Friday, Nov. 1, 2002 | 8:17 a.m.
Jerry Fink's lounge column appears on Fridays. Reach him at [email protected] at (702) 259-4058.
Semper Fidelis.
The Marine Corps motto is Latin for "always faithful."
To Alan Broze, it means being faithful to his music.
The 56-year-old ex-Marine sings at Teddy's Bistro (aka Romy's) two nights a week, Tuesdays and Wednesdays, but music is always on his mind.
"I don't think a day has gone by that I haven't thought about music," said Broze, who spends 11 hours a day, five days a week, driving for A Cab. "I've wanted to do music all my life. Every day I have thought about it in one way, shape or form."
It was in the Marines where Broze learned he could sing well enough to hold an audience. He was stationed for a time in Memphis, Tenn., where he was attending aviation school to become part of a helicopter crew. One night he went to a club and sang.
"It wasn't karaoke, but it was sort of karaoke of the '60s," he said.
The audience liked what it heard and their response inspired the native of Cleveland, home of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Museum. But shortly after that Broze was sent to Vietnam, where he was crew chief on a helicopter.
"One night I went up to the USO (in Da Nang) and there was a guy playing the piano, something by The Beatles," Broze said. "I sat down and started singing along with him. Then another guy comes by and starts playing bass, and another guy stops by and plays the guitar. Pretty soon, we had a band."
From its USO roots, the ad hoc group of musicians began playing at clubs frequented by American military personnel in their off hours.
"That was my first professional job as a singer," Broze said. "There were bars for servicemen all over Da Nang, where everyone would go at night and drink and get screwed up. The band would go to the bars and play and the servicemen would give you money. They were always partying."
He was discharged from the Marines in 1967 and returned to Cleveland, where he pursued his music with a passion.
"When I first got out I played in all the clubs around Cleveland," Broze said. "We played six nights a week, five hours a night. Every lounge had a band back in the '60s and '70s. Everyone was working."
From Cleveland, he went to the East Coast, where he performed in lounges at Holiday Inns, Ramada Inns and other venues.
Then Broze got sidetracked. The nomadic life of a musician was not good for his growing family, so Broze set aside his singing career and went into construction in the early '70s.
"But every day, I thought about music," Broze said.
He started a construction company, doing small projects such as fences, decks and concrete work.
"I lost my passion for music for about 10 years," Broze said.
But he found it again in 1990.
"I went to a karaoke joint, one of those places where you sing and they put it on a disc," he said. "I went into this booth and recorded a song, 'Old Time Rock 'n' Roll,' and when I got out of the booth the store played the song on the loudspeaker.
"Everybody just stopped what they were doing and gathered around. I was just looking around -- no one knew it was me singing. When the song ended everyone applauded."
His passion for singing was rekindled by the experience.
A month later Las Vegas musician Tommy Thompson called him. Broze and Thompson (of the Tommy Thompson Project) had performed together years earlier.
"I hadn't talked to Tommy in over a year," Broze said. "When he called he told me he was in Las Vegas and the town needed musicians."
A few weeks later, he moved to Vegas.
"My marriage broke up over this thing," Broze said. "But we eventually got back together."
Gigs weren't as easy to come by as he thought they would be. To pay the bills, Broze began driving a cab. That was 11 years ago and he's still driving a cab and trying to re-ignite a music career that went on hiatus in the '70s.
"I figure if I keep knocking on doors somebody's going to have to answer someday," Broze said.
He has sung with musician friends all over town -- at the Sahara, Caesars Palace, New York-New York, the Tropicana, the Riviera and countless other venues.
"But I've only gotten paid once for singing in this town," Broze said. "A friend got me a job at the Bellagio on Christmas day a couple of years ago."
Driving a cab 11 hours a day, five days a week, doesn't leave Broze much time to knock on doors. He's grateful to be singing at Teddy's two nights a week. He doesn't get paid, but at least he gets heard.
Broze longs for the day when he can turn the meter off in his cab permanently.
"I'm trying to pursue my career, but I'm wasted after spending 11 hours in a cab," he said. "I want to get out of the cab and get into a lounge."
Broze says his dream isn't big, as dreams go.
"I don't necessarily want to be a headliner, although with the right production and the right people telling me what I should and shouldn't do, I could be a headliner," he said.
Broze won't let go of the dream again. He couldn't if he wanted.
"I will keep it 'til the day I die."
Semper Fi.
Lounging around
Rick Arroyo's Latin Percussion Ensemble can be heard at Mandalay Bay's Coral Reef Lounge 9:30 p.m. to 2:30 a.m. Mondays.
Check out the Greg Bowers Trio at the Las Vegas Hilton, 7 p.m. to midnight, Sundays through Wednesdays.
Pianist Jim Dixon is at Alexis Park, 6 p.m. to 9:30 p.m. nightly.
Ghalib Ghallab Experience, Tuesdays through Saturdays, 6 p.m. to midnight at Caesars Palace's Terazzo Lounge.
Sunday Jazz Brunch with saxophonist Rocky Gordon and the Killer Groove Band, noon to 3 p.m. at Gordon Biersch Brewery, 3987 Paradise Road.
archive
