We wanted to bid a formal adieu to Rhode Island legend Barry Cowsill, whose death was reported last week. He and I had spoken last summer about doing a story on what he was up to, but weren’t able to hook up. Certainly, we would not talk about the Cowsills, his child star-making vehicle. He had little interest in rehashing all that. His new stuff, as reported by Jim Gillis at the Newport Daily News, was really stellar and certainly worthy of attention. 
“In 2004,” Gillis writes, “Cowsill recorded several tracks, with Mike Warner on drums and Frank Dwyer producing, at Dwyer’s SoundScape studio in Newport. Cowsill played keyboards, guitar and bass and sang all vocals. Some of the tracks are re-recorded versions of songs on his 2001 CD As Is and others are new.
“The songs, such as ‘River of Love’ and ‘My Car Don’t Lock,’ are largely power pop with strong melodic hooks and crunching guitar chords. ‘Kid’ has a ragtime piano flavor, with Cowsill employing a fake trumpet effect with his vocals.”
Barry’s first love, after his family, was music, and he spent much time and energy in the studio, where he was considered by many to be an eccentric, Brian Wilson-type genius. He had been playing frequently at Billy Goode’s in his hometown of Newport.
“He’s an absolute musical whiz in the studio,” Warner told Gillis. “He knew what he wanted to do. Barry has the best pop sensibilities. In the studio, he was all business but a lot of fun.”
But Barry, 51, never returned to finish the project, which still might see the light of day. He left for New Orleans last August, with plans for drug rehab in LA. But he disappeared sometime after Hurricane Katrina hit, around September 2. His body was discovered on January 4.
Says occasional collaborator Thom Enright, “Barry was a very talented and funny guy. He had a lot of great music left to finish. He used to show up at my gig Monday nights at Billy Goode’s in Newport and always bring a good vibe to the band and the crowd. A great singer and songwriter, he had a wonderful sense of humor and always a good story to tell. I’ll really miss him.”
This way in
The twisting and turning history of THE ENTRANCE, which began way back when the band members were in elementary school, feels like a Robert Altman film, with members coming, contributing, and subsequently going faster than customers at a fast-food restaurant. Now, after a long odyssey, the lineup has solidified, gelling into a multitasking quartet with Pat Conway on drums, Ben Wistey on bass, Tim Carroll on guitar, and front man Damian on vocals, piano, and assorted machines. They’re a noisy but compelling outfit with jam tendencies, a melodic center, and electronic overtones.
After seemingly dozens of people took their turn touching the band musically, the current lineup took its shape a year ago. Today, Damian and Wistey live together in an old house on Hope Street; Carroll lived there for a while before the roof caved in, making a couple of rooms unlivable. Still, it was home, one that felt more comfortable than the scores of other places they’ve inhabited. It was here, too, that they laid the groundwork for their so-called “Demo-’05” disc.
