There has been a great deal of controversy about which local bands played during the two days that Joe Cocker opened the Depot. Connie’s Insider reported that local band booker Marsh Edelstein was upset that publicity about the concert did not include the bands that played before and between shows. Many bands remember that they were the first to play at the Depot. There was a “preliminary rock act,” according to Allan Holbert of the Minneapolis Tribune, (April 4, 1970). Marshall Fine deemed the opening band “terrible.” (Minneapolis Star, April 6, 1970) When contacted him in April 2023 to find out what he remembered, he replied, “Apologies. I don’t even remember there being an opening act, I’m afraid. Your search continues.” Jim Gillespie of the Minnesota Daily called them “a trio of high school kids who probably wowed ’em at the Thanksgiving Turkey Trot but had no business playing at a place where it costs four bucks a ticket.” (April 10, 1970) The two reviews above establish that it was a trio. One trio, Triad, didn’t move to Minneapolis until May 1970, according to minniepaulmusic.com. A common suggestion was Crockett, but member Tom “Footie” Husting reported, “Wasn’t Crockett. We didn’t get together until after the Poco gig at the Depot.” Another Crockett member, Larry Hofmann, concurs. Besides, that band had four pieces. Crockett did go on to become the first “house band.” Others suggested the trio Jokers’ Wild (which was called Flash Tuesday at the time), but member Denny Johnson remembered that the band was in Nebraska the entire month of April 1970. Richard Timm says the Paisleys opened that night. But he also remembers that the Bangor Flying Circus performed next before Cocker, and that surely didn’t happen. In addition, it does not appear that the Paisleys were a trio, they were not unknown teenagers, and reviewers would have mentioned their name. Perhaps he was thinking of the night before, or the night after. Charles Schoen says the Del Counts opened that night. For the same reasons as above, the Del Counts are unlikely. They were not a trio, they were well known, and they already had over ten years’ experience. It is very possible that they performed between shows, however. Schoen wasn’t at the show, just coming home from the military; I contacted two members of the Del Counts who were at the show and their memories were very sketchy. Steve Barich was too busy running the light show to be paying attention. Larry Loofbourrow, who was running sound and the light show, understandably doesn’t remember 53 years later. Bear, Beaver, Peacock Will Jones and his wife lasted about two minutes at the opening before his ears gave out. The opening band was TOO LOUD. The photo below accompanied his column – it is a terrible, grainy photo, but it shows a trio.

On looking at another photo taken by Mike Barich at the Cedar Village Theater (below), the possibility hit me that this might be might be the same band. The band at the CVT was called Bear, Beaver, and Peacock. The photo was taken on September 17, 1970. Joyce Everson was the guest singer.

Since I had the names of members of the group, I did some detective work and contacted them – one by text, and one by email. All I could find for the last one was a street address, so I wrote a letter and boldly went to his house and hoped he wouldn’t call the cops on me. Instead, he invited me in for a two-hour interview! Turns out, these guys were 17-year-old high school students from my alma mater, St. Louis Park High School! And one turned out to be Mark Orion, who joined the band Straight Up and produced and wrote and played all the instruments on Jesse Ventura’s LP. (He’s shown as Mark Lundeen above.) Many groups would have done the gig for free, but Marsh wanted them to get paid; as one recalled, $300. Connie Hechter Socks it to BBP If I had just read that issue of the Insider first, my question about the first band that had played at the Depot would have been answered much more quickly. Here’s what he wrote:

The local band known as Bear, Beaver, Peacock opened the musical activities after the crowd, lined four deep a block long, was allowed to enter the joint: this was about 13 second after the bars were stocked with bottles and glasses.

The above band began to play in a volume of sound that was unbelievable. They would have had to turn down to “loud” before they were anywhere near normal. I couldn’t hear my partner shout at me, nor could I made out what friends were saying, not being able to read lips.

I remember thinking that “surely, this craziness couldn’t go on more than a few moments.” It was actually painful. I looked around at some familiar faces, only to discover that just about everyone appeared to be carrying on as if this was normal for a rock club. Now wait a damn minute. We still are all humans, born with the same ears and roughly the same body compositions, like eardrums, ear tissues, and whatever else is under that hair and sideburn. Did you ever have the feeling of being in a tragic or calamitous situation, only to discover that perhaps you were the only one aware of what was happening, while everybody around acted as if nothing was wrong? . . . A sense of urgency overcomes one . . . it did me, and I felt that if fragedy were to be avoided, immediate action would be required.

After the next number, I forsake all sense of propriety and shouted “turn it down, you’re too dam loud” at the direction of the stage on the floor below. I considered fighting my way through the masses to approach the stage like a gentleman, but decided that I would be totally deaf before reaching the musicians, and the thought occurred to be that should I be successful in reaching the stage, I would probably arrive while they were in full blossom in the middle of a tune, and then would surely go deaf waiting for the trio to finish so i could convey my message. No . . . what I did was the only thing possible to avoid disaster, certainly for me.

In all fairness to Bear, Beaver, Peacock, it can be said that they didn’t realize how loud they were. They saw the size of the club and figured that they had better cram up their amps. Nothing could have been further from the truth. The sounds carry, fellas, so keep your amps turned down when playing the Depot.

Then came Joe Cocker.

Cocker did a short set the first time on, and I headed for the the door, stopping long enough to listed to a tune by the Del Counts, one of the best bands in the maret who consistently manage to stay on top of the band scene.

So that settles it. Bear, Beaver, Peacock was the first band to play at the Depot (other than at the soft opening), and they were either so loud or terrible that critics left, or they were forgotten in time. What Connie failed to report was that when he yelled “turn it down!” to the boys, he was met with “F*** you, Connie! Bad career move! One of them remembered that the carpet hadn’t been laid yet, so the sound bounced around. They had been booked by Marsh Productions on recommendation of Danny Stevens, but didn’t fit the mold, since they were an acid rock band that wrote their own music. I enjoyed my interactions with Bear, Beaver, and Peacock (who still use those names), and consider it an important piece of history to identify them. They may have been loud, but they were first!

On April 4 the supporting acts were Kaleidoscope and the Paisleys. (no citation) JOE COCKER OPENS THE DEPOT