Episode 43: Three of a Kind | FM Rock’s Other Great Trios

Rush, The Police, and ZZ Top became rock institutions. But what about the other great power trios of early ’80s FM radio?

In Episode 43 of “Who Ordered the Pie?,” we explore three bands whose defining moments arrived in three consecutive years: Triumph with “Magic Power” in 1981, Taxxi with “I’m Leaving” in 1982, and Zebra with “Who’s Behind the Door?” in 1983.

Discover how Rik Emmett’s childhood transistor radio inspired one of Triumph’s greatest songs, why the British trio Taxxi relocated to the San Francisco Bay Area, and how a perfectly timed radio broadcast helped Zebra turn an Atlantic Records rejection into a record deal.

Then we make “The Cocktail Queen,” an equal-parts Canadian Boulevardier named after one of Taxxi’s most memorable songs.

It’s a story of power trios, FM rock, unlikely breakthroughs, and three musicians sounding larger than life.

Transcript

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SPEAKER_02 0:00

Three musicians can make an astonishing amount of noise. But with only three people at the center of the band, there's also nowhere to hide. Every instrument matters, every voice matters. Take away one member, and the entire sound changes. When you think about great trios of the early 80s, the biggest names that come to mind are Rush, The Police, Z Top. But those bands have become institutions. This episode's about three other trios. Three bands that found their moment on FM radio without becoming permanent fixtures of classic rock. And those moments arrived in three consecutive years: 1981, 82, and 83. Welcome back to Hoord of the Pie, the podcast where music history, the stories behind the songs, and Little Something in Your Glass all come together. Our first story begins with a nine-year-old boy, a transistor radio, and a pillow. In 1981, the Canadian trio Triumph released their album that would define them, Allied Forces. And one of the biggest songs on that album was Magic Power. Triumph consisted of guitarist and singer Rick Emmett, drummer and singer Gil Moore, and bassist and keyboardist Mike Levine, three musicians creating a sound built for arenas. Magic Power reached number eight on the Billboard Rock chart and crossed over in the number 51 on the Billboard Hot 100. But the story behind it began years earlier when Rick Emmett was only nine years old. Rick's mother bought transistor radios for him and his two brothers. At night, Rick would take his radio in the bed and place underneath his pillow. He later described that little radio as his passport to the universe, and it transported him beyond the bedroom and into a world of music that seemed impossibly far away. Then, years later, the impossible happened. Triumph songs, Hold On and Lay It on the Lion began receiving radio airplay. Rick could fly into cities like San Francisco, Los Angeles, New York, and discover that the people already knew his music. The little boy who had been listening beneath the covers was now coming through somebody else's radio. That experience became Magic Power. The song is about the ability of music to reach someone who feels lonely, discouraged, or trapped inside an ordinary life. And the girl described in the lyrics, the one that climbs in the bed and pulls the covers over her head, was actually, if you hadn't figured it out, Rick himself. He changed the pronouns when he wrote the song, opening the story to a larger audience. So Magic Power is not simply another arena rock anthem, it's autobiographical. But Triumph almost gave up on it. Allied Forces was the first time recorded at the band's own Metalwork studios. They were free from the usual record company pressure over studio time and budgets. They could experiment, discard weak ideas, and keep working until the song felt just right. But even with that freedom, they could not figure out how to make magic power sound like Triumph. They reportedly recorded it several times, but it kept sounding too soft or too pop oriented. Finally, someone in the studio asked a simple question: what would the Who do? That question unlocked the arrangement. They added the active hi-hat, layers of keyboards, and guitars that gradually turn the song from something intimate into something enormous. It begins with a 12-string guitar and a small inexpensive synthesizer. Then it continues building until all three members sound as if they're filling the arena. That gradual expansion was deliberate. Rick Emmett was inspired by songs like Led Zeppelin's Stairway to Heaven, which had shown that FM radio would make room for something longer and more ambitious. A song could begin quietly, establish an intimate connection with the listener, and then continue gathering energy until it becomes an arena rock anthem. Magic power follows that same path. The rhythm becomes more insistent, the electric guitars grow heavier, and Mike Levine's keyboards begin adding sounds that seem to sweep across the recording. Some of the sweeping sounds came from an organ being played through a rotating Leslie speaker. Emmett remembered that Levine was not normally an organ player, so creating those parts took time. But the result became one of Emmett's favorite moments in the entire song. And as the arrangement grows, the vocal and guitar begin working in a call and response kind of format. Rick sings a line, then the guitar answers him. It helps make the recording sound like a conversation, even when everything around it becomes larger. The song eventually pushes Emmett's voice all the way up into a high D. He's joked that at this age he cannot always reach that note anymore. Then he adds, well, maybe on a good night. Gilmore remembered nights when the crowd became so loud that the band could barely hear themselves play. The nine-year-old boy, who once hid the transistor radio beneath his pillow, was now standing on stage listening to thousands of people sing his song back to him. That was the real magic power. And in a way they were, but their story actually began a thousand miles away in London. Taxi was guitarist and singer David Cumming, keyboardist Colin Payne, and drummer Jeffrey Need. After coming together in London, the three of them met an American music promoter who told them they could become successful in the United States. He convinced them to relocate to the San Francisco Bay Area.

SPEAKER_01 6:34

I've come to the end of my scales.

SPEAKER_02 6:41

So they packed up, crossed the Atlantic, and followed that promise to California. There, manager David Lycan connected Taxi with Berkeley's Fantasy Records. The label released their debut album, Day for Night, in 1980. Then in 1982 came States of Emergency, and the song that gave Taxi its first national charting American rock radio moment. I'm Leaving. Taxi's lineup made them an unusual trio. They had guitar, keyboards, and drums, but no permanent bass player. For I'm Leaving, their sound was expanded by several Bay Area session musicians, including future journey bassist and American idol judge Randy Jackson. But the three names at the center remain Cumm, Pain, and Need. I'm Leaving was written by Pain and Need, with Cumming delivering the lead vocal. The song follows a man walking through a sleepy city with his clothes packed in a bag. He knows that leaving will hurt everybody involved, but his ambition will not allow him to stay, and there's no confirmed account that that song was written about Taxi's move to America, but still, the parallel is very difficult to miss. This was a band that had already packed its bags, left London, and crossed an ocean because ambition told them something bigger was waiting. I'm Leaving reached number 39 on the Billboard's Rock Charts. Taxi would later climb slightly higher with Maybe Someday, which reached number 31 in 1983. And that second charting song proved that I'm Leaving had not been a complete fluke. Taxi was building a recognizable presence on American rock radio. They also received exposure on MTV and shared concert bills with the police, foreigner, lover boy, and appropriately enough, Triumph. They were standing on the same stages as the acts that they were hoping to join. They remained one of those bands that seemed to be standing just at the outside door of classic rock prominence. You know, not successful, not unknown, but never quite able to turn the individual moments into lasting national fame. They left London because somebody promised them success in America. For a brief moment, I'm leaving, made that promise sound as if it might come true. Randy Jackson on guitar and lead vocals, Felix Hahnemann on bass and keyboards, and Guy Gelso on drums. The three came together in New Orleans back in 1975.

SPEAKER_01 9:37

We sailed away.

SPEAKER_00 9:39

We walked a thousand miles and think we slipped away.

SPEAKER_02 9:44

They found their name while sitting beneath the framed 1962 Vogue cover depicting a woman riding a zebra. With the sorority dance approaching, the band needed a name immediately. Zebra was right there on the wall, so it stuck. The band built its reputation playing technically demanding songs by groups like Led Zeppelin, Yes, and Pink Floyd. Then they began dividing their time between Louisiana and Long Island, sometimes playing as many as 250 shows a year. Randy Jackson wrote Who's Behind the Door while staying at his grandparents' farm outside of Dallas. The farm was isolated, there were no telephones, and nothing to distract him. Randy had several guitar ideas recorded on different cassette tapes, many of them played in the open G-tuning. He began fitting those pieces together while thinking about one of his favorite movies, 2001, a Space Odyssey. Before Zebra had a record deal, they recorded the song as part of a demo. And then in 1981, that early version appeared on a compilation featuring local bands. It was released by Long Island radio station WBAB. That station began playing Who's Behind the Door and listeners started requesting it. Randy remembers driving home from a gig about seven in the morning and hearing Zebra on the radio. The band was unsigned. For Randy, he remembers that as one of the most memorable moments in Zebra's history. But getting a record deal remained difficult. Zebra submitted its demo to Atlantic Records. Atlantic rejected it. The label thought the music sounded too dated. Then a young Atlantic employee named Jason Flom visited WBAB. He asked program director Bob Buckman which local band he would sign. Buckman told him about Zebra because their songs were receiving more requests than most of the national acts they were playing on the radio. Flom made a copy of Zebra's cassette and left it on the desk of Atlantic president Doug Morris' assistant. Joined a large bile of cassettes that probably would never be heard. But Morris happened to grab a few cassettes on his drive home to Long Island. He put on Zebra's tape and listened to Who's Behind the Door. He decided he didn't like it. So he ejected the cassette, and at that exact moment, Who's Behind the Door was playing on WBAB. When the song ended, the announcer identified as the most requested song in the station's history. Doug Morris had just rejected a song, only to hear the radio station prove him wrong seconds later. Atlantic signed Zebra in late 1982, making the band Jason Flom's first signing. Producer Jack Douglas, whose credits included Aerosmith, Cheap Trick, and John Lennon, produced Zebra's self-titled album. Who's Behind the Door reached number 10 on the Billboard Rock Chart and number 61 on the Billboard Hot 100. The album sold 75,000 copies during its first week, reaching number 29, then went gold, and became Atlantic's fastest-selling debut album at the time. Zebra never repeated that level of commercial success, but Randy Jackson, Felix Hanneman, and Guy Gelso remained together. The same three musicians who formed Zebra back in 1975 were still performing together 15 years later. Atlantic Records once rejected Zebra because the band sounded dated. Maybe the label misunderstood what they were hearing. Zebra didn't sound dated. Maybe they sounded built to last. This song has always held a special place in my heart. I love Taxi, and I was lucky enough to see them perform live back in the day. Of all their songs, Cocktail Queen has always been one of my favorites. In fact, it remains one of my favorite songs of all time. The song appeared on Taxi's 1982 album, States of Emergency. Lyric's Jeff Needs said although many of Taxi's songs were romantic fantasies, Cocktail Queen was inspired by an actual encounter in an Arizona bar. Love that. Little bit of Stone's influence there, don't you think? Anyway, this time Taxi is not just providing part of the soundtrack, they're also naming the drink.

unknown 14:57

Oh, don't soft the rock!

SPEAKER_02 15:01

Our version is a Canadian variation in the classic Boulevardier. And like the bands of this episode, it relies on three equal parts. You'll need one ounce of Canadian rye whiskey, one ounce of gompari, and one ounce of sweet vermouth. You're gonna add all the ingredients into a mixing glass filled with ice. You're gonna stir until the drink is properly chilled, then strain that over one large rock in a rock's glass, and finish with an expressed orange peel. The Canadian whiskey gives us our connection to Triumph. The gompari contributes bitterness and intensity, and the sweet vermouth brings everything together. Three ingredients, no supporting players. Take away any of them, and the entire arrangement changes. That makes the Cocktail Queen a perfect drink for three of a kind. Today we deliberately looked beyond the trios that became institutions, beyond Rush, the police, and ZZ Top. Instead, we found three other bands whose moments arrived during three consecutive years. Triumph turned a childhood fascination with the radio into magic power. Taxi left London for California and came tantalizingly close to fulfilling that promise that brought them to America, and Zebra used local radio to open a door that Atlantic Record had already closed. These bands may not have become permanent fixtures on the scale of more famous trios, but for a few moments on FM radio, they sounded every bit as big. And sometimes, three musicians is all it takes. Until next time, here's the loud riffs, quiet sips, and the stories in between.