Photo by Magnus Lunay on Unsplash
At 74, the former Sand Dune opens up about his distaste for New York City traffic, his love of his millennial fans, and his new version of the album ‘Light.’
By Chris Jenson
Peter Lefavre is sitting in a small green room in Madison Square Garden, smiling brightly. He has an easygoing air for a person in his 70s, chatting with everyone who comes inside, and cracking jokes about his knees when people bend down to shake his hand. Unfailingly by Peter’s side sits Richard Johnson, his beloved collaborator of fifty years. Next to him, his wife, Caitlin Lefavre. The three of them seem to share a secret language, communicating much through saying little. Tonight, they’re going to share some of that secret language live with an audience. Peter Lefavre’s Light: Uncensored is going to be performed with full instrumentation in front of an arena audience of thousands. Outwardly, Peter seems unphased by all of the hubbub surrounding it.
“It’s really exciting to get to finally play it as it was meant to be heard. I think people will really like it – we wrote some really good music back then,” he says.
Caitlin ruffles his hair – still thick, even now. She’s drowning in a pink sweater, tiny from age but lively all the same.
“Don’t let him fool you. He’s terrified. Thinks it’s going to be godawful,” she says.
“It’s a healthy fear,” says Peter. He looks up at the ceiling and grinds his teeth a little bit.
“He was vomiting all yesterday. Couldn’t even take his heart medication,” says Caitlin. Richard grabs his hand and squeezes.
“It’s okay to be nervous,” he says quietly.
Peter leans his head on Richard’s shoulder, looking pensive. After a few minutes of silence, he lets go of Richard’s hand and claps him heavily on the back.
“Nah. It’s going to be great, isn’t it?” he says with a grin.
[IMAGE: Peter, Caitlin, and Richard standing with their arms around each other. Peter is subtly leaning against the back wall of the green room with the other two holding him up. His hair is long and grey, mirroring Richard’s which is longer and greyer. He’s wearing a colorful psychedelic tunic and is decked out in kitchy jewelry. Richard is all in black; Caitlin is in her pink sweater. All of them are smiling. Caption: Peter Lefavre, Caitlin Lefavre, and Richard Johnson at Madison Square Garden.]
One could forgive Peter for nerves, were he to own up to them. Light is a deeply personal album. The record is notable for its resonant themes of youth, self-exploration, and generational anxiety. It’s also objectively great, so much so that a significant chunk of the record was considered un-tourable in the 60s due to its complexity. Over the years, both Peter and his former band, The Sand Dunes, have separately used a variety of methods to approximate the sound of their more popular tunes from the album. Heated debates rage on fan forums about which versions most closely approximate what Light “should” sound like. Creating an “official” version of certain songs that will rival the versions currently touring with The Sand Dunes is bound to stir up controversy.
Light looms large in the Sand Dunes lore – the album that broke up the band. Its existence is the dividing point between two eras of the Sand Dunes – known commonly to fans as the “Lefavre” and “Post-Lefavre” eras. While the band has had a rotating cast of members since its inception, nothing else in the lore rivals the mythic loss of Peter Lefavre.
“I won’t listen to any Sand Dunes albums after 1966,” says one of the many passionate fans present for tonight’s concert. “The band has been living a half-life ever since then. Peter was and is the Sand Dunes – whatever else is touring is just a cash cow shuffling around.”
For his part, Peter seems to find the entire concept of “Lefavre” and “Post-Lefavre” eras humorous.
“I think they’re still a good band,” he says with a little shrug. “Fans are always dramatic, aren’t they? If they weren’t good, they wouldn’t still be touring.”
Curious about how far that praise goes, I ask him if he’s seen them on tour lately.
“No. I’ve been busy,” he says with the air of the faux-casual.
Later that evening, another fan tells me that Peter has never seen the Sand Dunes on tour without him.
“We check the audience every time, but he’s never there,” she says.
[IMAGE: Peter Lefavre, long-haired, twenty-two and wiry singing into a microphone and playing acoustic guitar onstage. Surrounding him, his bandmates. Left to right: Jacob Lefavre (Bass and Vocals), David Lefavre (Drums), Michael Tompkins (Keys & Secondary Percussion) All are matched to a theme – California surfer. Caption: The Sand Dunes – 1964. Chicago, IL]
The concept for Light: Uncensored began 25 years ago. Peter’s band (then known as “SCHISM”) were embarking upon their now-infamous ‘Roses and Thorns’ tour. Simultaneously, the 25th anniversary of Light was approaching. Due to the album’s fame (and infamy), Jacob Lefavre wanted to push for a re-release of the album. Though he had not spoken to Peter for years, he reached out to ask if Peter still had access to any of his old demos. Peter’s mouth twists with displeasure as he recalls the absurd request.
“He said, ‘Do you have any of the good demos left?’ And the way he said good – I knew. So I told him that they were lost to time. What was he going to do? Ransack my house for the tapes?”
Peter laughs at his own joke, though the memory still seems painful to him. He folds his hands in front of him before continuing.
“Since there was audience demand for Light, we re-shaped the ‘Roses and Thorns’ tour to feature our own versions of the songs. I don’t know if it would be accurate to say we “toured Light out of spite” but –”
“We toured Light out of spite,” says Caitlin with her nose wrinkled up in delight. Peter laughs again.
“Jesus. Yeah, alright. So we toured Light a little bit out of spite. Mostly out of love but –”
Richard frowns at this sentiment.
“Didn’t you say ‘Fuck George Bush! Fuck the government! Gay power!’ at every concert?”
Peter clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth and looks up at the ceiling.
“Alright. So, ‘Roses and Thorns’ was about seventy percent spite. But it turns out in 1991 – that’s exactly what people wanted.”
[IMAGE: Distance shot of the ‘Roses and Thorns’ tour in London. SCHISM from the left: Jerry Smith (Bass), Laci Simpson (Keys, Secondary Percussion), Caitlin Lefavre (Drums), Peter Lefavre (Lead Singer & Rhythm Guitar), Richard Johnson (Lead Guitar). Peter’s suit sparkles under the lights. Caption: SCHISM – 1991. London, England]
By happenstance, the 25th anniversary of Light neatly lined up with the invention of affordable camcorders, which allowed the tapes to be shared between fans. Vitally, these tapes were shared easily in-between gay fans who quickly spread the news to other gay fans – Hey! Did you know that Light is actually gay? Though Peter had not been hiding his queerness since he left the Sand Dunes, he hadn’t really made it a part of his act up until that point either.
“I never wanted that to be the first thing people thought of, when they thought of me,” says Peter. “But I came to realize that pretending that part of me didn’t exist was hurting me, creatively. And fans – they know when you’re not being truthful with them and they like when you are. So, I think in the end, we did the right thing.”
Judging by the counts on the YouTube videos of his concerts, his fans would agree. Peter’s career is meticulously documented on that website, with his performances racking up millions of hits. Fans are particularly obsessive about songs from Light, creating intricate lyrical analyses that frequently involve theories as to why certain lyrics are different on the album proper. For better or worse, this speculation often delves into Peter’s personal life – his relationship with his family members (both living and deceased), his relationship with Richard and Caitlin, his sexual orientation, and even his gender. At 74, Peter doesn’t have a lot of answers, but he doesn’t seem to mind, either.
“People are happier when they interpret the music how they like,” he says. “Playing these songs uncensored – I just want to nudge them in the right direction.”
He says nudge with a little smile right into his microphone. Peter is sitting down for mic check because he, “like[s] to save [his] knees for when the magic happens.” His eyes are fond as he watches Richard go – Check! One, two. Check, one, two! The guitar hung over his body sways on his hips when he learns forward to say the words.
“I hate your knees, you know that?” says Peter when the engineers inform Richard that his mic is adjusted properly. Richard lifts one leg and sways it, obviously showing off his relative dexterity.
“Yeah, I know,” he says. Peter waves his hand at him and scoffs dismissively.
“I go for a run every day for seventy years and in the end it still comes down to genetics. Richard spent most of the sixties stoned and microdosing LSD and taking naps and he’s ten times healthier than I was ten years ago,” says Peter. Richard swings the guitar behind him and holds out his hand. Peter grabs it, rises to his feet, and is pulled into a surprise hug. He gives a long, slow exhale and settles into Richard’s arms.
It’s difficult to hear from my place in the wings, but it sounds like Richard says, “We’re just happy you’re here, Peter.”
[IMAGE: Peter sitting on the edge of the stage, alone. His grey hair is tied to the side and he looks thoughtful. The lights around him are dim. Caption: Peter Lefavre at Madison Square Garden.]
It’s not until an hour before the performance that I’m finally able to get Peter fully alone. After hyping up everyone in the green room with a clapping game, he takes me by the wrist, and steers me outside. The noise of New York City smacks our ears as the summer heat bears down on the asphalt. I start to sweat as Peter pulls a package of gum out of his pocket.
“I’ll never get used to New York. It’s so loud,” says Peter. He hands me a piece of gum (though I don’t ask for one) and takes a piece of his own. We play rapid fire questions as we chew. Most recent book – The Vegetarian. Favorite play – Angels in America. Most recent movie – Blue is the Warmest Color. When sirens pass, he winces. I ask him when he plans to return to California.
“Well, we’re just off a pretty long tour, so we’re going to go home after this, I think. Have some ideas for new music so I’d like to get to work on them,” he says. Peter leans against the wall and lets out a sigh. I ask him if it’s ever hard to tour the music he wrote when he was 23 years old – mentally or physically.
“It can be hard when people seem to believe that was the time in your life that defined you the most,” he says. “I knew almost nothing about myself, or really about anything, when I was 23. I always hope the people out in the audience know they’re seeing someone on the other side of that and that the people out there are interested in the kind of artist I have become, too.”
Just then, a young stage assistant walks outside with a big grin on her face. Apparently, she has won the jackpot as the lucky low-level employee to go find the very flighty Peter Lefavre and alert him that it’s a half hour to show. Before we return inside, she asks for a selfie, and he happily obliges.
“I’ve seen all of your old concerts online,” she says. “I was so excited for the chance to meet you.”
After giving him a hug, she falls back into place backstage without saying anything else. Peter seems touched by the moment – surely, some of those concerts had to have occurred before the girl was even born.
“There’s been a resurgence of younger fans at the last few tours – late teens and twenties. A lot of the older music, especially, resonates with them,” he says.
The two of us stand at the open door to the green room, peering in but unseen.
“All I have to do is not let them down. Piece of cake.”
Before I can probe further, he waltzes into the green room with rock star energy.
“Who’s ready for an amazing show!” he says with his whole chest. Everyone in the room cheers. I hover by the doorway as Caitlin and Richard each give him a kiss on the cheek. All of them are as ready as they’ll ever be.
The Peter Lefavre Band is playing Light: Uncensored at Madison Square Garden this Thursday and Friday.
Grayson Cabarle is a full time civil service worker and part time cat enthusiast hailing from New York City. He has previously been published in Euphony and Punt Volat and co-hosts the podcast ‘We Blame Harry Styles.’