with The Legwarmers

By Mike Hume

It was a period of great complexity and great contradiction. Economically, the nation was asked to spend money so it could make more. The U.S. and U.S.S.R. manufactured thousands of warheads so they would never have to use them. However the greatest of these confusions came in the music world. Men tried to look like women. The bigger your hair, the bigger your … uh … hairspray bill. Spandex was revered and not shunned, as it is today when mother’s cover the eyes of their children to spare them the horror of watching grossly obese men in their stretchable second skin. Neon was not just something only worn to worn by joggers to avoid being struck by motorists after the sunset, it was a wardrobe staple.

In the local music scene, no one has better captured these paradoxes than 80s tribute band The Legwarmers. They have become a near-weekly staple at the State Theatre, selling out every ticket about as fast as you can say “Gag me with a spoon.”

Named after yet another ill-fated fashion trend of that time, the Legwarmers sweep the leg ... er, sweep their audiences off their feet through a mix of 80s covers (“Jump” and “Total Eclipse of the Heart” are regular hits) and onstage personas. Take, for example, the website bio of band founder Cru Jones:

“Burdened with terrible guilt for crippling the 80’s pop culture he now fights so hard to preserve, Cru Jones is a tormented soul. A carefree and devilishly handsome child actor in the early 80’s, Cru starred as a young male character from a neighboring boys’ prep school on the sitcom smash “The Facts of Life.” In the show’s infancy, the female cast at “The Eastland School for Young Women” had been a large and sprawling one, until one by one, the young starlets were turning up a “family way,” throwing the sitcom into a tailspin - the format was changed drastically and the lineup was slashed to just Jo, Blair, Tootie, and the fat one. On a whim, Cru’s parents, deeply shamed by their hellion son’s lasciviousness, rented “Karate Kid II” for their BetaMax, and less than 24 hours later, the young lothario was shipped off to Korea to learn discipline and wisdom. Fifteen years later, Cru Jones returned from the Orient transformed, a man forever cursed by his inner demons but determined to bring honor to his clan. Yet as a member of the Order of the Legwarmer, this samurai no longer wanders alone.” — www.thelegwarmers.com.

In the real world, “Cru” goes by the handle “Matt.” Near as Press Pass can tell, he works a real job that has nothing to do with fronting the musical arm of the 80s preservation society, although he was on his way to a Blondie concert Tuesday evening.

The band started as a lark in 2002 when Matt and his roommate George ... excuse me, Cru and Gordon ... thought it would be a fun idea to whip up an 80s band to play weekend gigs. They found a drummer, complete with electronic kit, and rehearsals began.

“It was such a horrible time in music in so many ways,” Matt says. “While we take the music we play seriously, we see the humor in it.”

A full year later, they donned their costumes and crossed the street to their first gig.

“We played a house party across the street from us,” Matt/Cru says. “It got broken up by the cops right in the middle of ‘Eye of the Tiger.’”

While it is unconfirmed whether or not it was Rev. Shaw Moore who called the boys in blue, the fact remains that this gig was the first stepping stone to something much larger. Soon after, they played the State Theatre for the first time and they’ve made it their regular venue ever since.

Now expanded to comprise the likes of “Chet” (bass/vocals), “Rikki” (keyboards/vocals), “Cyndi” (vocals/percussion), “Lavaar” (drums) and latest members “Clarence” (saxophone) and “J.R.” (trumpet).

“When we added Clarence and J.R., we realized that we didn’t have too many songs where we could add horns,” Matt says. “Basically they just stand around and drink the whole time. But we have some choreographed dance steps for them on “The Right Stuff” that brings the house down.”

The band dons different outfits for each gig, which makes acquiring such costumes an interesting process.

“Thrift shops are the way to go,” Matt says. “I own far more pink and teal clothing than I care to admit.”

What The Legwarmers have accomplished is truly remarkable, capitalizing on a period in musical history when some would not hesitate to stab their ears out with a Voltron sword simply to avoid hearing Cyndi Lauper’s voice.

Nevertheless, The Legwarmers have achieved success and they are expanding, with semi-regular gigs in Baltimore at the Ram’s Head, including a show June 17. You can also check them out at the State Theatre a night earlier. For a change, tickets are not sold out. Yet.