It’s not uncommon that bands lose original members and carry on even when—in the case of chesty, melodic, baritone vocalist/songwriter Pat DiNizio—so much of the Smithereens’ heft rested on his big shoulders. So much, but not all, because the Jersey-born, ’80s band was built on the high-school friendship of DiNizio’s co-founders Jim Babjak (guitar), Dennis Diken (drums) and Mike Mesaros (bass) and their sense of what boyish harmony and the punch of the ’60s British Invasion meant to their hometowns of Carteret and, in the case of DiNizio, Scotch Plains.
Unlike fellow Jersey-ians the Rascals (whose vocalists Felix Cavaliere, Eddie Brigati and Gene Cornish relied on soul tropes) and Frankie Valli’s Four Seasons (who explored street-corner doo wop), the Smithereens’ careening, cascading harmonies came from the chirp and chime of Swinging London circa 1963. They were Gerry & The Pacemakers infused with the grit of Perth Amboy, N.J., the Beatles and the Kinks without fuss, with the added depth of descending choruses and forlorn lyricism. And for those reasons (and their working-class status), the Smithereen were loved enough by and called upon from their devoted fanbase to carry on beyond DiNizio’s 2017 death.
Joining powerful musicians and muscular harmonists Babjak, Diken and Mesaros now, after a 2024 run with fellow ’80s brusque power-pop traveler Marshall Crenshaw, is John Cowsill, beloved for his role as singer/drummer for brotherly/sisterly bubblegum-psych sensations the Cowsills, as well as touring with the Mike Love-led Beach Boys (performing Al Jardine’s and Carl Wilson’s vocal parts).
Lest anyone wonder what this newly configured foursome’s association could be, the Cowsills and the Smithereens met while simultaneously playing a California pop fest in 1990. DiNizio and Co. asked the Cowsills for backing vocals on “Now And Then” from 1991’s Blow Up, and the rest is harmonic history.
The Smithereens With John Cowsill made sense from the first notes of the ringing “Behind The Wall Of Sleep” through to the angel-winged final blast of “A Girl Like You.” I can’t recall every nuance of this Cowsill’s past high notes and low bows, but the long-haired John approximated DiNizio’s bruised baritone and manly punctual lilt without aping the cherished vocalist. Guided by Ringo-esque power tom-tomming, crisp bass lines and the cracked chime-and-growl of Babjak’s Rickenbacker (this isn’t Guitar Player, I’m not a detective, and people dine during City Winery shows, thus you can’t get close to the stage without brushing against seafood towers—so back off), these four guys worked in unison to reminisce and reinvent the likes of the aptly titled Brit smash “Top Of The Pops,” as well as DiNizio’s signature, sinking-chord-filled melodies and moaning, story-told “Only A Memory” and “Strangers When We Meet.”
Drummer Diken did much of the talking for the Smithereens, asking the rowdy, appreciative audience (“a Smithereens crowd is a drinking crowd”) to raise a glass to its late lead singer and introducing DiNizio’s first solo-penned song, “I Don’t Want To Lose You,” with a swinging, frug-worthy groove, and “Miles From Nowhere,” with a dynamic, rich, stop/start pre-chorus break. They made jokes about best-befriending each other since 1971 until their current Medicare status, and Cowsill jested about still getting the feel of his new job’s songs with lyric sheets spread across the stage floor.
Mostly, these four guys were just the Smithereens, making a brand of manly, harmonic pop/rock that few ever did—or do—as well as they always have. They could have played for four hours and never tired out this devoted crowd.
—A.D. Amorosi
