LEO SAYER: Nobody’s Clown

Trenton, New Jersey is not the likeliest place to go hunting for good vibes. Situated precariously close to Philadelphia, the city is a unique mixture of the very dull and the very, very dull. Yet, backstage at Trenton’s War Memorial arena, the atmosphere is decidedly “up.” Gaggles of lobotomized groupies stand in hallways not quite knowing what to do as various British rock munchkins dart in and out of dressing room doorways, completely ignoring the nubile emissaries from Mary Quant Inc. Alex Harvey^is there, complete with white-faced band members and he finds the scene fu,nny as hell. He laughs boisterously.