We were back on the Chitlin’ Circuit, as some time had passed since "I’m Doing Fine" was on the charts. Slowly but surely my situation forced me to change. New York City wanted to fire me, but Bernard convinced them to keep me. I kept my head down and never looked at the people in the audience. I was very shy on stage, almost to the point of being introverted. I just wanted to read books and practice every chance I got. The band had many willing girls throwing themselves at us, but I wasn’t interested. In retrospect, I can sort of see their point. Of course that could be the only explanation for my strange habits as far as these brothers were concerned. My personality caused some discomfort between me and my New York City bosses, because they thought I was gay. I was wholly dedicated to practicing guitar and embraced a monklike celibacy. When I started with NYC, I only ate organic food (preferably macrobiotic). Now I was twenty-one years old and things were changing quickly. With Sesame Street, I played in the orchestra pit and was basically hidden. But this was my first taste of playing in front of people in big-time situations. Bernard and I always tried to make live music faithful to the records, as we’d done in Hack’s pick-up band the night we initially played together. Though the Big Apple Band didn’t play on Bell’s recordings, we played the music live very well. Thom Bell was at the top of his game, and his slick, sophisticated soul dominated the RB and pop charts. NYC’s Philly Soul sound was very happening. We played large venues with a diverse group of headline RB acts such as the O’Jays and Parliament-Funkadelic we even did some dates on the American leg of the Jackson 5’s first world tour. And for a while, we were on a hot streak. New York City scored a hit record, "I’m Doing Fine Now," by producer/songwriter extraordinaire Thom Bell, who was best known at the time for his work with the Delfonics, the Stylistics, and the Spinners. We took the name the Big Apple Band as NYC’s backup band. They were both Van Nuys Airport people, an irony I didn’t bother explaining to my friends. NYC was signed to a label called Chelsea Records, which was owned by Wes Farrell, who was married to Tina Sinatra. He became music director for a vocal group called New York City, which was known for its Philly-sounding soul, despite its name. In 1973 Nard landed the gig that would change our lives.
From the back of the bandstand, we learned the fundamentals of how to build a successful music production business. Nard and I gigged together on the Chitlin’ Circuit up until 1977. It was the last time I’d work with Hack, and the beginning of a lifetime working with Bernard Edwards. He never explained what the "that" was that they couldn’t have there, but he didn’t have to. "Hey, man, we can’t have that here," the white club owner told me. I got sacked and wound up getting paid for a half night’s work. The opening widened the whole way up, until it reached her breasts. Picture a reverse wool corset that laced up the front from her navel. "Yo, man," I remember him warning me when he noticed her entering the club, "Connie’s headlights are on high beam." My girlfriend had come to our gig wearing a very revealing low-cut designer dress. According to management, they didn’t like the way she was dressed. I was fired from Hack Bartholomew’s band our first night there, because my girlfriend Connie came to see me. It wasn’t exactly instant fame and glamour, but it was nicer than our Chitlin’ gigs. I don’t recall the club’s exact name for sure (I think it was Delmonico’s), but it was on Morris Park Avenue in the East Bronx, a sparsely populated section of town that I’d lived in at various times in my life, with Beverly and Graham. For the next couple of weeks, we did a few consecutive boogaloo gigs (which meant the set list was comprised of current RB pop songs) before getting another call from Hack and moving to a more upscale Italian nightclub where the set list was expanded to include standards. If I got hired for a gig, I worked hard to get Nard added, and vice versa.