Numa Records:  The Formative Years

TAKING A BREAK, AT ROCK CITY STUDIOS

LEFT TO RIGHT:  Larry Loeber, Gary Numan, George Kamm, Tony Alum, Steve Devier, and Dave Earl

NU 2

7 inch vinyl 45 r.p.m.

NUM 2

12 inch vinyl 45 r.p.m.

Numan Music / Megapop Music Co., 1984

CLICK THE HIGHLIGHTED SONGS TO HEAR A SAMPLE

SIDE A

§1 Shivers Up My Spine [Extended Mix] (4:59)

SIDE B

§1 Vibrations Of the Night (4:56)

§2 Shivers Up My Spine [Radio Edit] (2:55)

all tracks written by Larry Loeber

additional music by Chris Staines and Eric Hine

Produced and arranged by Chris Staines and Eric Hine

Larry Loeber, Vocals

Chris Staines, Guitars and Sitar

Eric Hine, Synthesizers

Gary Wilson, Drums

Karen Taylor, Female Vocals 

Special thanks to Chris Staines, Tony Webb, Matt Nicholson, Everyone at Rock City, Paul Woolf and my Dad

Thank You: Gary Numan

Cover design by Larry Loeber

Photography by Denis O'Regan

Costume and styling by Juliet Ferridge

Make-up design by Sue Daniels

"This is dedicated to my Mom"

Recorded at Rock City Studios, Shepperton, Middlesex, England

Marketed and Distributed by Precision Records & Tapes Ltd.

____________________________________________________

LAST UPDATED ON  31 OCTOBER 2008

PART ONE:  LIFE LESS ORDINARY

Born in New York City just three days after Gary Anthony Webb,

Lawrence Justin Loeber embarked on a recording career after a

young life of eclectic and mad-capped experiences: at one time

he played, in full costume, the role of a badger on the stage of a

New York theatre; he directed traffic during a blackout in New

York City (an unenviable job to perform at any time, much less in

the darkness of New York); and he once entertained crowds at

Carnegie Recital Hall.  Raised in South Orange, New Jersey,

Loeber had aspirations from an early age to be a musician and

singer.  In fact, during the fifteen years in which he studied

classical voice, he spent time at the National Music Camp in

Interlochen, Michigan and the Manhattan School of Music Prep--

which might help to explain the great precision of his singing to be

found in his singles.  However, his flair for dramatic and whimsical stage presence can be

attributed not only to his many years of studying dance and theatre, but also to his

considerable professional work in the performing arts.  For seven years he performed

show-tunes and ballads in New York City cabarets acts, and, with an established

background in jazz, ballet and tap dancing, he even landed a small role as one of the

London dancers in a 1978 short film, "The Maltese Unicorn" (an adaptation of "The Boy

Who Cried Wolf," available in the two-volume collection, Unicorn Tales.)  Nevertheless, as

with so many aspiring entertainers who choose New York as their proving ground, the

underbelly of Loeber's story is striped with working odd-jobs in entertainment, waiting

tables, and making last night's tips go the distance to help him realize his dreams of pop

success.

One of those dreams--again, from an early age--was to sing and live abroad.  Fed up with

the stymied creative atmosphere of his cabaret stints ("Really," says Loeber, "how can you

ask your friends to come and see you perform 'Sailing' by Christopher Cross?!"), he'd

decided to seek out an alternate route to success.  The epiphany struck while watching a

1982 MTV Stray Cats interview wherein the band members, after their disappointment with

the U.S. music industry, revealed their strategy that made the U.K. their starting point. 

Loeber soon after converted his savings into a plane ticket to London, determined to

launch his career from Europe.  Ironically, in that selfsame Stray Cats interview, Brian

Setzer was caught by his now infamous gaffe of calling England "the little island with the

cloud above it" which, although it was intended as a criticism of the American influence on

British rock 'n' roll, was interpreted by press in both countries as nothing short of a

diplomatic incident.  And for those who are looking to round out their stories with such

notes of irony, let me add that it was a minor misinterpretation of international diplomacy

that eventually lead to Loeber's alleged deportation, which brought an end to his recording

career in the U.K.  But let's address the facts first, lest we seem to revel in irony too much.

At the time the American Loeber set out to take the English rock 'n' roll scene by storm, he

already had in his possession a demo tape to promote himself and a list of agents to

contact while in London.  Unfortunately, because of his professional preponderance for

cabaret and classical music, virtually all of the agents on that list represented classical

musicians and singers.  As one can easily imagine, the unorthodox music and personality

of his demo tape did not go down well with English purveyors of the classical genres.  With

a little patience, four thousand dollars, and some indirect solicitation of names not on his

list of agents, Loeber landed a video director for a full-scale music video of "Shivers Up My

Spine," the whimsical premise of which was Loeber falling asleep at the club and, like

Sabu in his Arabian costume, dreaming of flying the heights of love and success atop a

magic carpet. The "Shivers" video very nearly would have aired on Top Of the Pops if it

hadn't been for the overlooked permit for its television broadcast.  ('Zwounds!  Or, should

that be "Shazzam!"?)  At the same time, he took out an advert in NME to announce he

was "looking for producers interested in working with Americans."  The phenomenally

talented Chris Staines answered the ad and helped Loeber to complete the audio recording

for "Shivers Up My Spine."

By late 1983, Chris Staines had arranged a production deal

with Shepperton Recording Studios, then owned by the

Webbs as Rock City.  With Gary Numan's recent secession

from Beggars Banquet and his new Numa Records label

ready for embarkation, the atmosphere at Shepperton was

one of open optimism, excitement, and risk-taking creativity. 

However, Numan had not as yet signed up any acts.  And, as

with other anecdotes told by Gary to explain his many

collaborations with other artists, Larry Loeber's story

resonates with bold serendipity and chance timing.  One

afternoon, while Chris Staines and Larry Loeber were in-

between recording sessions, they happened upon Gary Numan in the recreation lounge: 

"Gary was in the rumpus room playing pool and asked me what I was doing.  I popped the

video of 'Shivers' in the telly and was practically signed on the spot." A few months later, in

September of 1984, Loeber's first record would be released virtually on the heels of the

posthumous Paul Gardiner single and would go down in history as the first Numa release

by a living artist--all of it taking less than two years to happen from the time Loeber first set

his sights on pop stardom.

Being his first release, though, and in the time-honored tradition of many emerging artists,

"Shivers Up My Spine" represents Loeber's (and Numa Records') first requisite flop. 

Numa's other inaugural release did not fair any better either.  In fact, both these singles are

probably now more profitable on the secondary market than they ever were on initial

release.  Proceeds from "Venus In Furs" went to Paul's young son, Christopher, and the

panegyrical importance of NUM 1 may have actually eclipsed any profitable attention that

would have been paid to "Shivers Up My Spine."  Loeber was nonetheless given greater

visibility as one of Numan's support acts on the 1984 Berserker Tour, where he performed

in front of a closed curtain and sung to backing tracks.

His involvement in the tour was a last minute

decision, suggested by Larry himself as a means

to making the single more lucrative. Loeber

explains, "Actually, Gary only wanted Hohokam

on as the opener, but I convinced him and his

dad to put me on too, since I was one of their

signed artists and if I made money so would

they." Some of the songs he performed on the

tour, besides the two tracks on his Numa single,

were

Spirit In the Sky

Those Words

and

Don't Do This To Me

A contingency of fans seem to have taken to

Larry as one of the more likable and amusing

supporting acts in recognition of his self-effacing

honesty about his hopeless lip-syncing.  On one

occasion, he simply ceased pretending and held

up his mic to the P.A. system until the song

finished.  Adding to his stage presence was his love of costume and character, which can

be credited to his years in the theatre arts.  Loeber's costuming, contrived though it be,

was carefully selected for its outrageous appeal and hyperbolic style, something conceived

with equally bountiful enthusiasm to make himself remembered.  He likens his attitude

about showmanship to an old Judy Garland and Mickey Rooney film, when all it took was

an uncle's barn and some musically inclined friends to put on an extravaganza.  However,

he also put himself on a six-month clock to reach that first tier of pop stardom, which may

account for the aggressively proactive way in which he presented himself to the London

music scene.  Says Justin, "I thought to myself, If I'm going to leave

my home, I might as well stretch my imagination to the nth degree." 

The result, his image as the Grand Vizir of dance music, had its own

prurient allure, especially to those who, like Loeber himself, could

own up to the influences of 70s Disco and Glam (which wasn't all that

distant a memory in 1984) on the flash and fantasy of New Wave

fashion.  One could easily envision him in his Arabian regalia

crooning in front of a backlit scrim on shows like Denny Terrio's

Dance Fever. In fact, Loeber readily admits that his unorthodox

image was largely a gimmick:  " . . . the bizarre costumes and quirky

sounds were strictly dreamed up to get attention.  I wasn't crazy by

day, trust me.  I was busy taking dance classes at Pineapple Dance

Studios so that I could sing (ok, lip sync) and dance at the same

time.  I figured that if I was really going to take a risk and make this

career work that somehow I needed to get noticed."

In the studio, however, Loeber is remembered by Gary Numan and

colleagues as a genuinely warm and friendly man with "a quirky,

bizarre personality."  He was also respected as the consummate

professional, even if not fully appreciated for his talent and pop

sensibility. 

These eye-popping, attention-getting strategies extend to the artwork

of the NUM 2 jacket as well, which he created himself after Numa

granted him artistic control over the record sleeve.  Oddly enough, he drew inspiration from

the popular hamburger franchise, Burger King.  Loeber explains, "I read somewhere that

Burger King chose red and yellow for their logo because those colors simply 'popped.'  I

always remembered BK's reasoning and when Numa gave me full artistic license to create

my record jacket, I chose red and yellow.  For the photo, I dressed up as if I was a genie

wearing Ray Ban Sunglasses (well c'mon, it was England, you know! [i.e., "the little island

with the cloud above it"]), simply to get attention and have the record stand out from the

pile of other records released."  The resulting sleeve was a blend of tribal iconography and

disco arabesque--as primal a temptation as butterscotch candy.

Unlike Numan's own records at this time, "Shivers Up My Spine" actually received air play

from Radio One:  "The fact that I was sitting in my bedsit . . . and listening to 'Shivers' on

the radio was awesome."  Loeber, was even invited to speak about his single on a Radio

One interview, which unfortunately was contingent upon Numan accompanying him as the

label owner and known celebrity.  When Numan declined to do the interview, Radio One

predictably retracted Loeber's invitation.

"Shivers Up My Spine" attempted to graft more sophisticated New Wave sounds with

offbeat post-modern lyrics set against the backdrop of an upbeat musical style;

unfortunately, the effect was too easily dismissed as Bubblegum Pop.  With some

distance from the entire New Wave movement, though, curious readers are strongly

encouraged to give the song an unprejudiced listen.  "Vibrations of the Night," the b-side, is

actually a stronger track, showcasing Loeber's true abilities as a skillfully trained artist: 

vocal exactitude, perfect pitch, impeccable timing--and all wed to a vocal tamber that

makes him seem like the long lost brother of the more contemporary Casey Stratton. 

Loeber's voice, perhaps, was too lyrical and tuneful for the 1984 scene, far from the angst

and disillusionment of disenfranchised youth in the age of nuclear threat, and too boyish to

create a context of sex appeal for the listener.  (Compare, for example, the vocal styles

that made Howard Jones and Thomas Dolby so popular, or the boudoir recumbancy of

Steve Braun's voice in subsequently released Numa singles.)  Perhaps if Gary Numan had

actually contributed some arrangement or production to the record, he might have balanced

Loeber's style with a darker edge and made the single more successful.

C'est la vie.  No doubt, were there a chance to do it all over again, there would be decisive

differences to the label's maiden releases. Sadly, because of the unfortunate

circumstances that drummed him out of the U.K. before his time, history remembers

Loeber as an ephemeral addition only to the Numa Roster.  The reality at the time was

quite different.  All of the songs in Loeber's "live" repertoire, including an untitled work

that exists only as an instrumental back track now, and the two tracks of the NUM 2

single, were scheduled by Numa for a Loeber album.  Loeber salvaged "Don't Do This To

Me" and "Those Words" for his avante garde video compilation, A Nite With a Lava Lite,

after returning to New York. The latter track, "Those Words" eventually found its way to a

release on the indie dance Vinylmania label in 1986.  However, plans were underway to

release Loeber's defiantly danceable cover of the popular Norman Greenbaum song, "Spirit

In the Sky," in 1985 on the Numa label as a follow-up single to "Shivers." Unlike the

unknown quantities that Loeber and his song, "Shivers Up My Spine," were when Numan

signed him to the label, "Spirit In the Sky" held real promise as a bankable cover song. 

During the previous two years, several dreadful versions had already been released into the

market by other artists, among them the otherwise brilliant Nina Hagen.  (In July 1986,

Doctor And The Medics would take the song to #1 in the UK charts.)  However, plans for

Loeber's second single fell back to Earth when he was prevented from returning to the U.K.

to finish the project.

Over the years, misinformed fans have maintained that Loeber was deported after the

Berserker Tour.  While this possesses a spark of international intrigue, in truth Loeber was

simply denied access back into the U.K. after a misunderstanding over his employment for

Numa while living in England under a tourist visa.  Loeber explains, "When I received the

working permit to go on tour with Gary, I wasn't told to go out of the country and re-enter

under working status.  After the Berserker Tour I went to Greece on vacation, and while at

UK customs, they discovered that I had worked in music while under a "tourist" status, and

although I did not get deported, I was denied re-entrance (they actually gave me seven

days to pack up and clear out.)"  The scene as Loeber describes it is

like a something out of Midnight Express:  an interrogation process

intent, not only on treating ordinary people with the courtesy deserving

of terrorists, but on humiliating and degrading mercilessly anyone

caught in the happenstance of international bureaucracy.  After hours

of being held for strip search and interrogation, Loeber was denied

access to his luggage and his passport.  When it became clear that

his pleas for assistance from the Webbs were going unheard, an

emotionally crushed Larry boarded a plane a back to New York City

and temporarily re-entered the work-a-day work force (including table

waiting again) in order to keep himself solvent while continuing to

pursue his music career.  Naturally, plans for "Spirit In the Sky" and

his greatly anticipated album came to a sudden halt, and he was

unable to re-enter the U.K. to reclaim his possessions, the most

important of which were his audio recordings and video.  As in all

international debacles, it's the mothers who create the peace: 

Loeber's mother boarded a plane and met with Beryl Webb on behalf

of her son; the two of them rummaged the studio storage cabinets for

Loeber's recordings; and Mrs. Loeber flew back to the U.S. with her

son's career bundled up in tote.  For so many years, living abroad and

working in the music business had been a dream and a lifelong goal,

"But time marches on," says Loeber, "and there's no invitations to a

pity party in the mail for you and the fans.  Just great recollections of

England and pop music and Numa Records."  (Loeber's record was never permanently

damaged by these events, and he has since been granted visa access to the U.K., where

he returned for the first time in 2002.)

In some ways, Loeber's experiences in the U.K. were along

the lines of an exchange student, where the education came

from acclimating oneself to the cultural milieu rather than

book-learning and lecture halls.  The setting, however, was

the extraordinary environment of recording studios and

Shepperton Film Studios stage sets.  The frenetic pace of

London and its sometimes bristling moments of cultural

diversity were not that much different from the pace and tenor

of New York City.  It was merely a difference of cultures in

the mix that struck Loeber as so interesting (recollecting, for

example, a Muslim woman in a burka rolling down the window

of a black limousine to discard a bag of Kentucky Fried Chicken into the trash).  The ever-

ubiquitous danger of large urban environments also followed Loeber overseas.  On one

occasion, when Loeber and a friend were leaving a bakery, they were followed, and then

hunted, by a gang of street thugs until, surrounded by them at an the entrance to an

Underground station, Loeber boxed his assailant in the ear with a bag of pita bread, which

disarmed his attacker just long enough for Loeber to make his escape.  (Loeber's friend,

however, suffered injuries from the attack.) 

Looking back on the events that led to the release of Loeber's single, I find it difficult to

shake the (unreliable) feeling that powers of destiny were somehow at work.  If rationally

approached, the ready abandon with which Loeber quit his jobs in 1982 and moved to

London is more an element of his personality back then than anything else, but as an

event of seminal importance to Numa Records it is quietly seeded with a mystical import

as well, for in truth Numa Records was made manifest from the fusion of two contradictory

temperaments:  two artists who were fated never to meet yet whose destinies were

inextricably and coincidentally bound.  Of course, the other artist to whom I am referring is

Paul Gardiner.  Although Gardiner and Loeber were the same age (born fewer than sixty

days apart), by 1984 Paul's legacy was squarely behind him, whilst Larry's was still being

forged.  With as much hope and optimism that Loeber brought with him to London that day

in 1982, the late Paul Gardiner had already abandoned hope for the company of despair. 

As professional opportunities availed themselves to Larry, studio doors closed to Gardiner

with greater and greater frequency.  And, while a chance meeting in a recreation room

helped Loeber to ingratiate himself to the Webbs and to secure his first record deal,

Gardiner had already moved farther beyond the pail of friendship--and ultimately beyond

help altogether.  Plainly, the release of both Gardiner's single and Loeber's single together

in September 1984 meant an atmosphere of ambivalence at Numa Records--of tribute and

initiation, joy and death, frivolity and tragedy, hope and loss--that would dog the label for at

least the years it remained open to artists other than Gary Numan.  Nevertheless, with this

paradoxical and unsettling sense of balance, the label took its first steps and intrepidly

staggered on.  Perhaps, in the end, Loeber's implacable spirit best characterizes the

launching of the Numa Records:  as the little label that prevailed, despite all.

PART TWO:  A LIFE LESS NUMA

While Loeber himself did not prevail at Numa Records, it was

by no means the end of his career.  Despite the relative failure

of "Shivers Up My Spine," Loeber still proved to be a more

successful pop star than any one of the other signed artists,

with two more singles to follow by the late 80s amid a market

more suited to his style.  After returning to the United States,

Loeber released two more singles before calling it quits: 

"Those Words" on the Vinylmania label in 1986 and "Love Me

or Leave Me" on Emergency Records in 1988. Both songs

sport a techno house disco character very companionable to

the sounds of The Petshop Boys, but with Loeber's customarily

precise vocals. As stated already, "Those Words" was one of the songs destined at one

time for a Loeber album on the Numa label and had to be rescued from the Rock City

Studios by Justin's mother and Beryl Webb.  Listed among the credits for the Vinylmania

12" are several names worthy of note.  Loeber's work carries the prestigious seal of the

legendary remix team M&M--Sergio Munzibai and John Morales--who were as highly prized

in the mid 80s U.S. dance genre as Crystal Method's Ken Jordan and Scott Kirkland are

today.  (Sadly, Sergio Munzibai passed away in 1992.)

One can easily trace the development of a more mature vocal style with each of the three

singles Loeber released, culminating in "Love Me Or Leave Me," in which Loeber's voice

possesses a very convincing pathos throughout and there is little trace of the lovesick

scamp in "Those Words" and "Shivers." The release of "Love Me Or Leave Me" was

fraught with greater difficulty, however, as Loeber's autonomy and vision for his own music

was gradually coopted by the industry.  Superstar producer and remix artist Freddy

Bastone was largely responsible for changing the genre and credibility of Loeber's music

without his approval. In fact, on the afternoon that he was to meet with Bastone to finish

the mix of "Love Me Or Leave Me," he arrived at the studio at 4:00 p.m. to find that

Bastone had already completed it as a Freestyle Dub.  This version appears on the 12 inch

alongside Loeber's intended version, but the damage had

already been done:  the Freestyle genre into which Loeber had

become reluctantly pigeonholed in turn directed the kind of

publicity appearances he was forced to make, in Uptown

nightclubs alongside Cyre and "a slew of very bad disco

circuits in the New York tri-state area."  (Loeber does fondly

remember, however, singing in the company of acts that would

later go on to become popular dance divas, like the young

Taylor Dayne and the Two Tons of Fun girls.) Like him or not,

he was unmistakably talented and showed a great respect for

the art of singing--a respect that was reciprocated by other

music celebrities.  Had he been able to follow his bliss, it's very likely that he would have

sung more R&B and Jazz.

But that was not to be.  On the last night of his singing career, Loeber witnessed a

shooting in the audience while he was on stage.  It was not the first time that had found

himself in the clubworld underbelly and, all things being weighed equally, the increasing

violence was simply not worth it.  He told his management, "I didn't sign up for this," and

left his recording career behind permanently.

Before resigning himself to another career, however, Loeber made one last attempt to right

a wrong in his life.  Though the song "Those Words" was eventually resurrected as a

single after being detained and forgotten in the Rock City Studios, other recordings like

"Don't Do This To Me" fell into obscurity.  In the meantime, too, Justin had written "What's

The Reality?", his cathartic ode to his own detainment in the U.K.

before being temporarily deported and forced to abandon a thriving

musical career.  As an apt example of Loeber's true Jazz/R&B

leanings, "What's the Reality?" deserved a chance it never properly

received.  Under the auspices of his own music production company,

Megapop Production, he struck upon the idea to produce an avant-

garde music compilation of artists who, like himself, had fallen

through the cracks of the New York music industry.  The result was a

video recording of a show that celebrated the culturally iconic Lava

Lite in a kind of Mummenchance light show featuring the gracefully

rhythmic movements of two women placing lava lamps on a table. 

Lydia Shemanyshyn, with whom Loeber had collaborated on the

Vinylmania release of "Those Words," was instrumental in the

video's production and marketing (which had a very limited release). 

Nevertheless, it was a chance to salvage some forgotten music and offer one more

farewell valentine to the music industry.  For more details and audio samples from the

video, visit the Nite With a Lava Lite bonus feature, in the Loeber Lobby.

The next few years were reminiscent of his pre-Numa life in New York: working in

restaurants segued into a job as a general manager of a food store that eventually closed. 

However, he subsequently temped at Villard, an imprint of Random House, answering

phones.  This serendipitous move eventually led him to embark on a career in publishing. 

Loeber held positions at William Morrow, Broadway Books, Running Press, and

HarperCollins,  and after serving as Vice President of Publicity for Atria Books in New

York, he opened his own public relations company in 2006, Mouth Public Relations, LLC.

People like Freddy Bastone and

M&M may have produced and

remixed Loeber's songs, but it was

musician Chris Staines who was

Loeber's backbone and who most

meaningfully contributed to the

songwriting and general production

of Justin's singles.  Staines, of

course, is credited on "Shivers Up

My Spine," but his talents have

kept him a session player in high

demand over the years; currently, he is a member of phenomenally popular Pink Floyd

tribute band Umaagumaa.  His co-writer on "Shivers," Eric Hine, is an old guard folk rock

performer whose impressive musical lineage can be traced from Simon Dupree and the Big

Sound in the early 1970s, includes a succession of popular artists for whom he performed

session work in the 1980s, and culminates in his current project with Chris Baines and The

Albion Band.  In the years before teaming up with Chris Staines and Larry Loeber, Hine had

a successful but short-lived solo career, releasing two singles in 1981 that have since

become popular additions to music anthologies representative of the period:  New Wave

rockabilly song "Not Fade Away" b/w an atmospheric track (that seems to borrow vocal

techniques from the Violent Femmes' Gordon Gano at times), "After Dark" (RAD101); and

later that same year, "Expectation (Brave New World)" b/w "Not Fade Away" (RAD505). 

(To hear samples of Eric Hine's songs, click the song icons.)   Loeber recalls the abrupt

end to which Hine's participation came, in the early days of his work on the single:  in a

meeting with Loeber, Staines and the Webbs, the ever taciturn Hine jotted down on a slip

of paper "I quit," rose from his seat and made a silent flourish from the room.  That was the

last he was seen.  So much for "not fade away."

One other credit not to be overlooked is Gary Wilson, Loeber's drummer on the Numa

single:  Wilson has since teamed up with another Numa alumnus for the occasional

recording project: Caroline Munro.  Details of their work can be found on this site on the

Wilson Munro page.

Though Loeber is now comfortably ensconced in a public relations career and has no plans to

change that in future, he does nonetheless maintain an ever hopeful attitude toward his

own music and has kept open the doors of possibility for another single release.  Having

evolved his style far afield from the contrived glam pop sound of "Shivers Up My Spine,"

Loeber's recordings have tended toward the harder dance tracks.  "One, which was never

recorded," says Loeber, "but a really great song, is 'Do Your Natural Thing,' and I hope

someday to meet a new group of producers and record it." Justin's never-before-heard

demo of "Do Your Natural Thing" proudly premieres here on the Numa Records: Formative

Years site.  Sample the track and feel free to send Justin your comments:

CLICK TO LISTEN

Do Your Natural Thing

My heartfelt appreciation and respect goes to Justin Loeber, who,

after finding my website by chance, graciously accepted my

invitation to write me with his story.  Without his input and

enthusiasm, the contents of this page would be incomplete. 

Justin, thank you!  I can't wait to write the next chapter.   Anyone

else who would like to contribute additional information about

Loeber's stage shows or to send photos of Larry Loeber can reach

me at karl.sherlock@gcccd.edu.  I will gladly acknowledge your

input on this page.

Meanwhile, Justin Loeber invites you to write him at

just.emailme@earthlink.net with your comments, questions and

hellos!

© Karl Sherlock 2004-2009

LYRICS

SHIVERS UP MY SPINE

Seeing that I want to . . .

Feeling that I need to . . .

Loving you, I'll keep you,

I'll keep you, I'll keep you,

I'll keep you keep you keep you keep you.

Is your name "Edwina"?

or is it "Katrina"?

With hair like semolina?

I mean, uh; I want you,

I need you,

I'll keep you, keep you, keep you, keep you.

Chorus:

Touch me, baby, touch me, baby,

twenty-four hours a day.

Touch me, baby, touch me, baby.

[Oooh, I love you.]

Touch me, baby, touch me, baby,

nine-nine hours a day.

Touch me, babe.  I want you to

send shivers up my spine.

End of month eleven:

tired, want to rest in heaven.

Will probably sleep

till six or five.  With you,

oh, no; don't go, I know,

you think that I'm a schemer.

Not nice anymore, getting meaner.

Hold on now.  No fair.  You lose.

I lose.  But wait.  Just one more time, and

Chorus:

Touch me, baby, touch me, baby,

twenty-four hours a day.

Touch me, baby, touch me, baby.

[Oooh, I love you.]

Touch me, baby, touch me, baby,

nine-nine hours a day.

Touch me, babe.  I want you to

send shivers up my spine,

shivers up my spine,

shivers . . .

[Hello.  Are you tired?  Lonely?  Do you ever smile?  Sleep?  Do you wanna touch me

(nine-nine hours a day)?  If you do, I'll keep you.  Keep you.]

Chorus:

Touch me, baby, touch me, baby,

twenty-four hours a day.

Touch me, baby, touch me, baby.

Touch me, baby, touch me, baby,

nine-nine hours a day.

Touch me, babe.  I want you to

send shivers up my spine,

shivers up my spine,

shivers . . .

Chorus:

Touch me, baby, touch me, baby,

twenty-four hours a day.

Touch me, baby, touch me, baby.

[Oooh, I love you.]

Touch me, baby, touch me, baby,

nine-nine hours a day.

Touch me, babe.  I want you to

send shivers up my spine,

shivers up my spine,

shivers . . .

[repeat]

VIBRATIONS OF THE NIGHT

You got the smile that says, "I love you"

and a glimmer in your eyes that says, "I'm yours."

With every movement of your body

I see you gliding to the point of no return.

Touch me in spite of all your madness.

Let me love you everlasting, always.

Feeling my love endure inside you,

like a torture glove preparing to take hold of me.

No, no, no, no,

it's the vibrations of the night.

No, no, no, no,

it's the vibrations of the nigh-igh-ight.

No, no, no, no,

I know the feeling of this is right.

Let me ride the rollercoaster of love.

Your little mind has tried to tell you,

"The way that boy can come to my side."

Is there too thin a little story

before the chapter of your infidelity?

Now, I swear, that you don't always do that:

play around with other boys you don't know.

But I think there has been a time when

you would play the game of getting personality.

No, no, no, no,

it's the vibrations of the night.

No, no, no, no,

it's the vibrations of the nigh-igh-ight.

No, no, no, no,

I know the feeling of this is right.

Let me ride the rollercoaster of love.

repeat chorus

[hiccoughs and laughter]

No, no, no, no.

No, no, no, no,

it's the vibrations of the night.

No, no, no, no,

it's the vibrations of the nigh-igh-ight.

No, no, no, no,

I know the feeling of this is right.

Let me ride the rollercoaster of love.

[repeat chorus]

SPIRIT IN THE SKY

LYRICS BY NORMAN GREENBAUM

When I die and they lay me to rest

gonna go to the place that's the best.

When I lay me down to die

goin' up to the spirit in the sky.

Goin' up to the spirit in the sky.

That's where I'm gonna go when I die.

When I die and they lay me to rest

gonna go to the place that's the best

Prepare yourself you know it's a must.

Gotta have a friend in Jesus,

so you know that when you die

He's gonna recommend you

to the spirit in the sky.

Gonna recommend you

to the spirit in the sky.

That's where you're gonna go when you die.

When you die and they lay you to rest.

You're gonna go to the place that's the best.

Never been a sinner; I never sinned.

I got a friend in Jesus.

So you know that when I die

He's gonna set me up with

the spirit in the sky.

Oh set me up with the spirit in the sky.

That's where I'm gonna go when I die.

When I die and they lay me to rest,

I'm gonna go to the place that's the best,

go to the place that's the best.

 

LARRY LOEBER

Shivers Up My Spine