Oreo Storeo


Pssssttt!!... Click on Oreo if you'd like to find out more about the super secret 5th member of Oreo Jones!!
You can click on the blue and green (and maybe orange) pads on each of the paws above for more info on the guys too.

Okay, so picture it - I'm asked to write some sort of bio for the band. Not a problem I figures. I can do that I figures. All I gotta do is tell the people how one of the greatest bands in the whole SJ of NB came to be. And keep people's interest at the same time.

Whoa Nelly!!... now we gotta entertain in print as well as on stage?!?! Man, what did I get myself into? But ok, I think I can do this. So here goes. I'll tell you the Oreo Jones Band story - or the "OJB" story, as we call it in the industry - and I'll try to make it as... ...entertaining... ...as I can.

See if you can pick out the "embellished" parts...


So there I was one fine evening, proofreading the latest issue of The New Yorker, when my phone rings.

"Hey Monty, Steve's 50th is next month and we're having a party for him. Can you come?"

"Yeah, that'd be a blast" I says.

So I go, and I bring my guitar, just as all guitarists are expected to do when they go to a party - sort of an unwritten rule one must abide by in order to be permitted to continue learning how to play beyond the 6th chord. And I'm not the only player at the party: Steve plays, and C.C Deville,so does Trent, and Greg, and, James Taylor, and we all had a great time. Long story short, the idea of getting an acoustic duo thing kind of comes up between Greg and I. So we throw 50 or so tunes together and decide to hit the road. We played under all kinds of names at all kinds of great venues - Tarzan's Day Off while at Sessions Cafe, Loggins and Messina while at Madison Square Gardens, Moenga while at Bowties and Noodles - and to sold out audiences! It was great, and we felt we were ready for a new dynamic. We got to talking, and figured we should get some drums and bass behind us.

So we put out the feelers.

Eventually, Greg gets a call from this phenomenal drummer, can't quite remember who - Phil Collins, Don Henley, could have been Peter Doyle - who says he knows of this drummer/bass combo that's looking to hook up with a band. "Real talented guys" the guy says. "Mature guys looking for mature bandmates" the guy says. "I think we should give them a call" Greg says. "I think you're absolutely right" I says. So he does, and we get together to jam with Ron and John.

It was,... hmmmm,... how shall I put it?,... like electric dynamite, to steal an appropriate phrase.

We rocked. Then we started rolling. Then we eased up a bit and went back to rocking. And as we watched, an entity that was entirely meshed with each of our souls, yet wholely complete unto it's own, was born.

And this thing was called - "wait, guys, what are we gonna call the band?"

Man, do you have ANY idea how hard it can be to come up with a band name these days? There was a list of a dozen or more. Unfortunately, Steve Tyler threatened to sue when we said we wanted to use "Aerosmith", so "Oreo Jones Band" it was.

It was a contribution from our good friend Lonnie Hallett.

Now, you gotta understand the band - Greg, he's one talented guy. He cut his teeth on Van Halen. He was a Def Leppard fan before there even was a Def Leppard. Stevie Ray used to call him "Sensei". Ron? He's so rock steady that it was his former band touring Ontario that made Toronto the center of the Universe. John's backed rock and blues bands all over since the 70's - he was playing bass even before it became cool! And me? Uh... Well, I did this really cool - - no... I had a great big - - nope, that won't work either... What can I say? I grew up entertaining the herd in the pasture beside my house, and let me tell you, Holsteins cows do NOT like Judas Priest! Found that out the hard way...

So anyway, take a tour around. Maybe you see something you like. Then again, maybe you don't. Maybe you're one of those non-... ...stuff... ...liking... ..people. How should I know - I'm not the boss of you. Either way, at least stop whining and come check out a show sometime. Maybe you'll have a good time. Then again, maybe you won't. Maybe you're - - - - not again...

Just come check us out, could ya? Then the guys (and by 'guys', I mean 'John') will stop punching my boating arm. Man, those bass player knuckles hurt...