BOSTON/NE BANDS, Fresh Stream, Know Yr Boston History



Recorded in 1986 in Plymouth, MA, Freddy and the Breeze (The Breeze earned the name due to the transient nature of the rag-tag musicians he played with- “breezing” in and out as he needed, he also could put down “Baccardi breezers like nobody’s business”) made a jittering piece of thunderous south-shore beach-metal party music you’d most definitely hear blaring out of a firebird parked in front of McGraths on a Friday night. The musicianship is cracking, head and shoulders above what you’d expect, but it’s the naked desperation and gutteral urgency of Freddy’s voice that really makes it. He manages to project the actual sound of a acid-washed, hard-partying, foul-mouthed burnout’s soul. He brings it to life, unfettered and totally fucking dangerous. I gotta say, as a kid who grew up in Plymouth, this guy was EVERYWHERE. Not Freddy himself, you understand, but the sensibility that he embodies. It’s like the guy who sells laced joints in front of Tedeschi’s -with the backwards Celtics hat perched atop his puffy mullet–Wearing the “Green Stuff” t-shirt, pegged pants and disgusting flannel comes outta the record and puts you in a headlock, screaming; “THIS IS WHAT IT’S LIKE FOAH ME, DON’T BE SUCCHA QUEEAH! WHO’S GOT WEED?!” Now that’s not an entirely pleasant reaction, but the raw truth of this stuff holds a lotta water for me… the kind of bitterly cold salt water you find in Plymouth harbor, after waking up with sand in your ears, surrounded by Icehouse cans and soggy fireworks. Freddy illuminates: “i was kinda hidin out in a shot-gun shack from 1985 thru 90 in west plymouth …….. twas beautiful“. Beautiful indeed.

The man still lives, responds promptly to a hacked email account, and has a sense of humor.

His self-released “best-of” CD is still available, help a fella out.






Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 License(unless otherwise indicated) © 2019