Dr. Hook and the Medicine Show, later known as Dr. Hook, carved a unique space in the 1970s pop music scene. They weren’t just musicians; they were entertainers, embracing the role of “clown princes of Seventies pop” with a wink and a nod. Their performances were as much about the spectacle as the music, often opening for themselves in disguise, a testament to their playful approach. This blend of musical talent and stagecraft led to over ten years of chart success and a collection of thirty-five gold and platinum records. But who were the individuals behind the eye patch and the quirky hits? Let’s delve into the story of the Doctor Hook Band Members and their journey.
The Genesis in Union City: Locorriere and Sawyer
The foundation of Dr. Hook was laid in the unglamorous setting of bars near a bus station in Union City, New Jersey. It was here, in 1968, that Dennis Locorriere, a New Jersey native, crossed paths with Ray Sawyer, a veteran of the Southern honky-tonk circuit. This meeting of musical minds was serendipitous. Sawyer’s distinctive eye patch, which became a defining visual element of the band, was the result of a car accident in 1967. Ironically, this accident, and the resulting eye patch, played a role in naming the band itself. The moniker “Dr. Hook” was inspired by Sawyer’s eyepatch, adding to the band’s already developing quirky persona.
Their initial foray into the music industry came through an unexpected avenue: film. Dr. Hook landed their first gig singing a Shel Silverstein song for the 1970 Dustin Hoffman movie, Who Is Harry Kellerman and Why Is He Saying All Those Terrible Things About Me?. This connection with cartoonist and songwriter Shel Silverstein proved crucial. It was Silverstein’s songwriting, specifically the mock ballad “Sylvia’s Mother,” that catapulted the band onto the charts in 1972. “Sylvia’s Mother,” with its sentimental narrative and Locorriere’s emotive vocals, resonated with audiences and introduced Dr. Hook to a wider audience.
From Top Ten Hits to Rolling Stone Cover
The momentum from “Sylvia’s Mother” carried into the following year. February 1973 saw another Silverstein-penned satire, “The Cover of Rolling Stone,” propel Dr. Hook back into the Top Ten. This song, a tongue-in-cheek commentary on fame and the music industry, became an anthem and, remarkably, life imitated art. By March, Dr. Hook found themselves gracing the cover of Rolling Stone magazine, a symbolic peak of rock and roll success. However, Dennis Locorriere candidly reflected on this achievement, stating, “The only thing I regret is that when we got on the cover, we were a bunch of assholes and we had nothing to say.” This self-deprecating humor and honesty were characteristic of the band’s image.
Navigating Business Challenges and Musical Evolution
Despite their chart success and growing fame, Dr. Hook faced internal challenges. By 1974, their nonchalant attitude towards financial management led to bankruptcy. Locorriere admitted, “If we were in the black when we finished a tour, we’d party into the red,” highlighting their rock and roll lifestyle and perhaps a lack of business acumen. The band, having shortened their name to Dr. Hook, demonstrated resilience. They staged a comeback in 1976 with a Top Ten hit, a remake of Sam Cooke’s “Once Sixteen.”
However, this period marked a shift in the band’s musical direction, one that both Sawyer and Locorriere felt diluted their original spirit. “Our music got real safe in the late Seventies,” Locorriere explained. The band’s sound became more mainstream, perhaps in pursuit of continued commercial success, but at the cost of the edgier, more satirical style that initially defined them. The relentless cycle of touring and recording, coupled with the changing musical landscape, began to take its toll. “We were on Solid Gold until you wanted to puke. And we started to hate our albums,” Locorriere confessed, revealing a growing dissatisfaction with their creative output.
Sawyer’s Departure and the Band’s Demise
The hitmaking continued into the early 1980s, but internal tensions escalated. Ray Sawyer, feeling increasingly pigeonholed by his stage persona, finally left the band in 1983. “I became a product with a patch and a hat,” Sawyer stated, expressing his frustration at being reduced to a caricature of himself. Dr. Hook continued for a couple more years, fulfilling touring obligations and paying off debts, before disbanding in 1985. Locorriere reflected on the band’s final days, “Everybody knew it was time to do something else. When we started to play clubs where our picture and Chubby Checker’s were in the lobby, I would think, ‘Is he coming back or are we on our way out?'” This humorous anecdote underscores the sense that their time in the spotlight was coming to an end.
Where Are They Now? Life After Dr. Hook
Following the disbandment of Dr. Hook, the band members pursued different paths. Dennis Locorriere, at 38 years old at the time of the original article, initially stepped away from music. He later resurfaced, showcasing his versatility as a backup singer on Randy Travis’s album Always and Forever. He eventually settled in Nashville with his son Jessejames.
Ray Sawyer, at 50 years old in the article, continued performing, embracing his R&B influences and playing clubs across the U.S. and Canada. He even opened for his friend, country music legend Mel Tillis, in Las Vegas. Sawyer resided near Nashville with his wife, Linda, and their two children.
Despite the challenges and eventual breakup, Dennis Locorriere holds fond memories of his time with Dr. Hook. However, a full-fledged reunion was not on the horizon. “We could probably still be gigging somewhere,” Locorriere acknowledged, “whether it was in a club or on this tour with the Turtles. But we’re semilegendary, and I’d like to keep it there.” This sentiment encapsulates the legacy of Dr. Hook: a band that embraced its unique identity, achieved considerable success, and ultimately chose to preserve its place in music history rather than attempting to recapture past glories. Dr. Hook and its band members remain a memorable chapter in the story of 1970s pop music.