“It was during the worst snowstorm of the century. Out of touch with the times and sounding dated, The Pack found themselves stranded in Cape Cod, Massachusetts on the promise of a live residency booking that never existed. The 60s were coming to an end, and the loved-up hippy ethos was being replaced by a bitter atmosphere of anger, war, race riots and ever-harder drugs. While Knight moved to New York and built up a successful career in music production, The Pack proceeded to go down the tubes rapidly. The band rechristened themselves The Pack and voted in Farner as vocalist and guitarist. But a combination of weak follow-ups and internal conflict led to Knight’s dismissal. The band achieved minor chart success with their interpretation of the schmaltzy standard I Who Have Nothing. Mark Farner was then recruited, initially as a bass player, Knight being impressed by Farner because of his resemblance to Brian Jones of The Rolling Stones. Knight convinced the band they needed him as their lead singer and frontman to propel them to success, and The Jazz Masters were renamed Terry & The Pack. But I went to see them and lost the bet – I thought they were fantastic.” “I hated local bands worse than anything in the world. “A fellow disc jockey had bet me that if I went to see The Jazz Masters, I would like them,” Knight recalled. Playing covers to an audience who demanded all the latest hits, the band found themselves going around in ever-decreasing circles until one night DJ/blagger Terry Knight came across them, in unusual circumstances.

The seeds of Grand Funk were sown in the early 60s with The Jazz Masters, an above-average bar band that featured Don Brewer, a drummer with a wild Afro hairdo. Grand Funk played R&B loud and with lashings of feedback, and the people of Flint – a close neighbour of Detroit – loved their local band with a vengeance.

Flint was, and remains, violent, downtrodden and resolutely working class.

In the mid-60s he managed to blag his way into a job as a DJ on a Michigan radio station by convincing his future employers he was a close friend of The Rolling Stones.Ĭonstantly reinventing himself, Knight was an old-school huckster in the style of Elvis Presley’s mentor, Colonel Tom Parker.ģ. Formerly known as Terence Knapp, Knight was a crass cabaret singer and master bullshitter. The band’s original manager/svengali, Terry Knight. At the start of the 70s the band took over the US chart with a succession of million-selling, classic rock albums: On Time, Grand Funk, Closer To Home, Live, Survival and E Pluribus Funk… which, for me, is where their story ends.Ģ. In their prime, Grand Funk were a bludgeoning riff machine that brought you such subtly titled gems as TNUC (read it backwards), Sin’s A Good Man’s Brother and Inside Looking Out. For the original Grand Funk Railroad, look no further than the above trio, and disregard the watered-down AOR outfit they developed into in later years. The band, of course: Mark Farner (guitar/vocals), Mel Schacher (bass) and Don Brewer (drums/vocals).

Grand funk railroad wait for me