I Played The Surf!

Heading south from Boston, I could smell the ocean and feel the sea breeze immediately upon turning off the highway heading for Hull, Massachusetts and Nantasket Beach. The Surf was located just beyond the tacky amusements and timeworn bars on the left, just across the street from the waves of the ocean. Driving past the old wooden roller coaster and merry go round, I could feel the excitement and smell the sticky pink cotton candy, steaming hot dogs and irresistible beach pizza.

Pushing through the heavy glass doors to the Surf, you walked up a small flight of stairs to a short landing and then up a large flight of stairs to the ballroom. There was no elevator, but myriad musicians gladly lugged their own amplifiers, guitars, organs and drums up those famous stairs in pursuit of their dreams. Memory fades a little more each year, but I still vividly remember ascending those stairs; there was a coat room on the left, dressing rooms and the office behind the coat room, and there was a bar on the right stocked with only soft drinks, no booze.

The ballroom itself was huge, its hardwood floor stretching out endlessly, bordered by just a few small tables. Heavy blue curtains adorned the walls and provided a backdrop to the stage, which was five or six feet high and stretched the entire length of the back wall. There was no house sound system and no fancy lighting; bands who were lucky enough to play there had to supply their own, but no one really minded. In those days, it was all about the music.

The first time I went to the Surf was to see The Kingsmen of “Louie Louie” fame and the house band that night was The Rockin’ Ramrods. Little did I know that I’d later become a member of that very band. There was usually a long line of locals out front but I got in pretty quickly. The place was packed with what seemed to be at least 300 sweaty, swarming teenagers and it was nearly impossible to push my way through to the stage where I watched bands that, to this day, still play their music in my head.

When The Ramrods played their set, they looked so incredibly cool on the stage that every guy in the place wanted to be up there with them. The Kingsmen came out and went right into “Louie Louie,” its ambiguous lyrics and pounding beat uniting the audience into one sweaty surge of teenage rebellion. Every one of us, with or without a partner, danced until that ancient wooden floor succumbed to the sensation and swelled up and down, unable to resist our collective beat. No one judged anybody for what they were wearing, if their dancing was “weird” or even if they didn’t dance at all. Nothing mattered but the music, the mood, the mob. All anyone had to do was be there to enjoy the ambience and be swept away by the teenaged tide.

The only apparent attempt at security seemed to be a couple of old guys who worked in the office, but in all the years I went to the Surf either to hear the music or to play there with the Ramrods, I don’t recall a single incident where security was necessary. Except for one night when someone shot off a few firecrackers, I don’t remember there ever being any fights, drugs, or need to call the police. That was the magic of the music. Bill Spence, the owner of the Surf and manager of the Ramrods, seemed to be an honest guy who, like anyone, wanted to make money, but also wanted the kids to have a good time. The Surf had an excellent reputation as being a safe place, so parents had no problem dropping off their kids for a few hours of fun.

Over time, I got to play on the same stage as many groups who went on to claim major fame. For me, the most memorable was The Doors. If I shut my eyes and let my memory run, I can still see a painfully young Jim Morrison in leather pants, humping the mike stand and looking stoned. Perhaps the most talented band I saw at the Surf was The Rascals, who were so impressive that I did not even want to play after they were on! Other groups I remember seeing are The Ventures, The McCoys, The Left Bank, Tommy James & the Shondells, The Turtles, The Swinging Medallions and countless Boston-based bands whose names may no longer be known, but which at least had some shining moments on the same stage as many rock ‘n’ roll greats.

Now the boardwalk amusements are gone and only a few rag-tag beer-soaked bars remain along Nantasket Beach. The Surf closed and the grand old building changed hands many times, forced to morph into many other uses over the years, but it was never again the vibrant and successful dance club it was when I walked its crowded floor and stage. But I know this for sure: beneath that building, buried in the ocean sand, are memories of faded and famous rock dreams, of romance, of good times we may never experience again except in our haunted dreams of youth.

The Surf Ballroom is authentic Americana and deserves to be honored in the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. In an era when conservative “ban-the-book Boston” had very few places where young minds and bodies could see the top rock act of the day perform live, Bill Spence dared to provide such a place and promote the music and talent of that remarkable time in rock ‘n’ roll history. I will forever feel privileged to have been a part of it all and will never miss the opportunity to say, proudly and nostalgically, “I played at the Surf.”

(by Len Cirelli)

Len Cirelli played keyboards for The Rockin’ Ramrods from 1965-1968.