By: Dylan Sharek
Posted In: Entertainment
Photo credit: Dylan Sharek
Audience members dance to Beatle’s cover songs performed by Abbey Rhode in December 2005.
Ben Banning is the youngest and newest member of Abbey Rhode at age 39. He grew up liking the Beatles, but not to the extent of Flanders, Davis and Sullivan. At the age of 15, he began playing the drums, and has since been in such bands as Powerhouse and Third Generation Roach Bomb.
After the unsuccessful runs with the two previous drummers, Kevin Sullivan contacted Banning, whom he had worked with on his solo project, regarding the new Abbey Rhode project. Banning signed on. “It brings out the kid in you,” Banning says of his new endeavor. The addition of Banning has brought a new stability to the group, and the members agree that he was a good catch. “He’s been, by far, the best person we’ve worked with. There were other guys we’ve worked with that were really good guys, but they weren’t that serious about it,” Davis praises. With the addition of Banning, Abbey Rhode acquired the foundation they needed. Walking by Billy Goode’s bar on Marlborough Street, one would think the real Beatles were playing. Condensation beads up on the windows, as onlookers and barflies jam into the small club. Every time the door opens, the music diffuses out into the street and it seems like a new passerby comes in from the cold. Every gig the band creates more Abbey Rhodies as their website, www.abbeyrhode.com, calls their dedicated fans. “They’re so good because I never got to see The Beatles, and they’re as close as you can possibly get. They’re so good!” said 20-year-old, future Abbey Rhodie, Ellie Girard, during her first Abbey Rhode performance on Dec. 10, 2005. At the local watering hole, as Billy Goode’s is known on Abbey Rhode’s website, Kevin Sullivan, dressed completely in black like Johnny Cash, stands tall in the forefront, acoustic guitar strapped across his chest-Lennon-like voice booming loud into the sea of onlookers. Passion, poise, experience, and true appreciation for the music of The Beatles’ emanates in his every word. Ray Davis, the aging hipster bassist, stands to his left, quietly hammering out bass note after bass note, forming cohesiveness within the band. For half the band’s song, he leans forward, mustache to the microphone, to add harmony and sing McCartney’s parts. Behind him sits Ben Banning, in a land of his own. Wearing casual blue jeans, work boots, and a Campbell’s soup shirt (which could be a shout out to club owner Kevin Campbell) Banning pounds away, focusing on Sullivan or Davis, to get his cues. And then there’s John Flanders. Dressed in a grey sweater, the shaggy haired George Harrison of the group alternates between the six guitars he brings to each gig, and the keyboard. In addition, he lends his vocal talents to most songs. A smile runs across his face after each song, knowing that this is his baby, and with the knowledge that they’re doing it right. He’s not the only one smiling. As each song starts, the crowd cheers, begins mouthing the words and even a few rouse themselves out of their winter blues to dance. By the sixth song, more people are dancing. By the twelfth, even more. By the time they get to “Day in the Life,” everyone is transported back to the hype of Beatle mania and no one could be happier than the four guys up front, playing the music they genuinely respect, honor, grew up with and most importantly, love.
