Sapphires on the Fretboard
Nestled in Maryland’s Cumberland Valley, in the shadow of the Blue Ridge Mountains, sits Hagerstown. Around here, they call it The Hub, thanks to the railroads and highways that converge in the area. Long-time residents and travelers alike keep this cozy town humming.
Not long ago, Hagerstown’s own glam rock heroes, Kix, roared out of this valley and onto arena stages. Now, as the 1980s kick into overdrive, another hometown band is making waves — soundwaves, that is — on the local scene. Word is, four girls calling themselves The Allurettes are ready to plug in, tune up, and kick some butt. Is Hagerstown hiding another gem?
“I think anyone who starts playing a guitar wants, badly, to be a rock star one day. It’s like that Foreigner song, Jukebox Hero. I swear, playing that distorted A5 chord… it does something to you.”
So says Audrey Peterson, lead singer and rhythm guitarist for The Allurettes. Brown-haired and brown-eyed, she lights up when talking about the band she leads. “Originally, for the first few shows, we called ourselves Allure. The ‘ettes’ was added because the Ronettes were my mother’s favorite band. It’s a tribute to her.”
A few years before the band formed, Audrey’s mother was killed in a traffic accident. Over time, and with the help of her best friend and Allurettes’ drummer Martina “Marty” Robbins, she found the strength to climb out of that hole. “No teenager can prepare for news like that,” Marty told us.
“It felt like someone ripped the heart out of my chest and stomped on it with construction boots,” Audrey added. “When you’re that sad, you can’t imagine ever coming out of it.
Because of this, Audrey sees her best friend in a different light. “I call Marty my sister now. She’s the best — absolutely the best. Her family moved next door to mine the summer before second grade. We didn’t talk until school started that year. Marty is shy until you get to know her.”
“Then, look out.” Marty laughed.
“I was surprised to see her in my class,” Audrey continued. “She’s two years younger than me. But she was already reading at a second-grade level, so she skipped kindergarten and first grade.”
“I’m kind of a genius,” Marty said with a wink.
“Spell genius, Marty.”
This request came from The Allurettes’ bass player, Krista Flemming. To the ears of this beat reporter, her request sounded good-natured enough. That didn’t prevent groans from Audrey and Shelby Ashlynn, the Allurettes’ lead guitarist.
“They’re always bickering back and forth,” Shelby informed us.
Despite this, Marty spelled genius correctly. Afterward, she offered Krista a proud smirk.
Alongside Audrey and Marty are bassist Krista Flemming, an energetic blonde with bright blue eyes, and lead guitarist and keyboardist Shelby Ashlyn, a strawberry blonde whose green eyes put emeralds to shame. Though neither hails from Hagerstown, their local fans have started calling them Hagerstonians.
“I’m from New York,” Shelby said. “Before picking up the guitar, I surfed.”
“Number three ranked in the world,” Krista interjected.
To this, Shelby rolled her eyes in a way that conveys faux modesty. “Surfing was fun. But I needed a change of scenery.
When asked if she cared to elaborate, the strawberry blonde with a smile designed to melt hearts simply said, “Sometimes family…” She then paused for a long time while her eyes glazed over. Eventually, she concluded with, “Never mind.”
“I’m from Kentucky, but lived in Germany my whole life,” Krista quickly broke in, seemingly wanting to take attention off Shelby’s memories. “Both my mom and dad are in the Air Force. My mom’s retired, but my father is still active.”
We met at Over Easy’s, a local diner just down the road from Strawberry Rockets Drive-In Theater, a prized Hagerstown hot spot. The theater, founded in 1976 by Audrey’s father, Hank Peterson, has become The Allurettes’ weekend home.
“As a kid, it was the best,” Audrey says. “I got to stay up late, work with my parents, watch all these movies — even horror movies. It was so much fun.”
During spring and summer, the band plays there every Friday and Saturday before sundown. “Because of Marty’s age, we can’t legally play clubs yet,” Krista informed us.
“And even if we could, I don’t think her father would allow it,” Shelby included.
Rhythm Rebellion was surprised to find out Marty’s father is the great studio drummer, Jasper Robbins. He contributed his services to many records from the early sixties to the mid-seventies.
“But playing at Strawberry Rockets is gnarly,” Shelby continued. “I wouldn’t change it for anything.”
“Yeah,” Audrey added. “We’re still mastering our songs and building a stage presence, just like we would be in a club.”
A mix between the melodic nature of The Go-Go’s, the driving groove of Girlschool, and the near-perfect harmonies of the Ronettes, the band has managed to etch out a sound quite unique in the current musical landscape, while also fitting perfectly into the pop/rock scene of 1983. Quite a feat, considering all the wonderful experimentation happening today.
“When Marty convinced me we could start a band, she put an ad out — I’m still not sure where—”
“This music mag my dad told me about,” Marty interrupted.
“Anyway,” Audrey continued, “it went up and down the East Coast. It didn’t say we were from Maryland, so we got calls from Virginia, North Carolina, even Georgia. But no one wanted to come here. We were about to redo the ad when Krista contacted us. A day later, Shelby called.”
Shelby and Krista now live in an apartment above Hank Peterson’s garage — “The Loft,” as the girls call it. It’s one big room with a kitchen, living area, and bedroom, no walls in between. “My dad was going to rent it out, but it became Marty’s and my hangout.”
“Then me and Shelby came along and ruined it,” Krista giggled.
“But it’s so gnarly,” Audrey resumed. “The band lives, basically, together but we also have space. I realize how lucky I am. Until my mother died, I didn’t understand that. I took things for granted.”
“As grateful as we are to have a steady gig and a rad place to live, we know it’s not always going to be that way,” Shelby intervened. “Right now, we’re living in kind of a dream. At some point, we’re going to have to step out of this comfort zone if we ever want to make it.”
“But both Audrey’s dad and Marty’s dad have been totally supportive,” Krista added.
When they’re not on stage, the bandmates work in the concession building at Strawberry Rockets. “Usually you’ll find me and Shell-Bell behind a register. Marty and Krista are cooking, making cotton candy, popcorn — all that stuff.”
“Marty eats the cotton candy,” Krista joked, much to the delight of Audrey and Shelby. Marty crossed her arms and grimaced.
As we walked from Over Easy’s toward Strawberry Rockets, a fourteen-year-old stopped us and asked for Audrey’s autograph. Since their weekly gigs began, being recognized around town has become more common.
“They always want Aud’s autograph,” Marty said to me as Audrey obliged the young fan. “I guess I’m too short to see behind the drums.”
“Or you hurt their eardrums,” Krista said.
While Audrey personalized the autograph, I asked about the tension between Marty and Krista. “They like each other, they really do,” Shelby said.
“You wanna bet,” Krista said with a wink while putting her arm around Marty—who promptly shook it off, but with a smile.
“Their fights are mainly musical disagreements,” Shelby continued. “Marty’s a Blue Öyster Cult, early Fleetwood Mac, The Runaways type of girl. Krista loves Culture Club, Bananarama, Thompson Twins.”
“She wants us to play that kind of stuff,” Audrey broke in once the impromptu autograph signing ended. “Marty wants nothing to do with that kind of stuff. I think that tension shapes our sound, though.”
Speaking of musical tastes, Audrey’s own favorites include both ends of that spectrum. “I love Kix. How can you be from here and not? Their first album came out around the time of my mom’s death. It helped me get through. But isn’t that one job of music? My favorite song on it is ‘Atomic Bombs.’ When Cool Kids came out a couple months ago, I got it on day one. But I also love bands like Heart, Zeppelin, Kansas, Billy Idol.”
“MTV is a twenty-four-seven thing at The Loft,” Shelby interjected. “Duran Duran is my favorite right now. But I also like The Police, Styx, Pat Benatar, Scandal.”
The first thing I noticed as we approached the drive-in was the massive neon sign reading: Strawberry Rockets.
“As a kid, I didn’t know this,” Audrey informed, “but that sign cost so much it almost sank the drive-in before it opened.”
As it turned out, it was that sign that got the attention of not only Hagerstonians, but of people from as far north as Maine and as far south as Georgia, and as far west as Nevada.
“I haven’t seen any license plates from Florida yet,” Audrey said. “According to my checklist, people from forty of the fifty states have seen a movie here.”
Instead of drowning in sorrow, Audrey used the loss of her mother to fuel her music. Watching her interact with her father and her Aunt Sissy at the drive-in, you can feel the optimism she carries like an aura. “I could’ve fallen into a dark place. Vices tempted me; I wanted anything to get me out of my black hole. But what held me back was knowing how disappointed my dad would be. I saw him going through the same thing I was. I didn’t want to make it harder for him.”
That’s when Marty pushed her to take guitar more seriously. She learned twenty-four songs in two weeks. “Guitar became like a drug to her,” Marty said.
“It wasn’t a grand feat — just chords, no solos.” Audrey’s modesty sounded quite genuine. “But it gave us something to play when we started auditioning for other members. The funny thing was, Kris and Shell-Bell didn’t exactly audition. When we first got together, it was like 5 p.m. on a Saturday. We just played for a few minutes, then started talking… and talking… and talking. Next thing we know, it’s midnight and our stomachs are rumbling because we hadn’t eaten dinner.”
When conversation comes so easily you forget to eat, that’s when you know you’ve got a group. Since those first gigs — when the crowd was lucky to hit ten — The Allurettes now pull in 150 to 200 fans each weekend before movie time.
“We know some people are just passing time before the movies start,” Krista admits. “But we’ve noticed more and more people leaving after our pre-movie concert.”
“Not good news for my dad,” Audrey interrupted, “but pretty cool seeing people come just to hear us play.”
Word of mouth is bringing in listeners from Thurmont, Frederick, and even Mt. Airy. Not bad for a band whose only stage consists of painted plywood in front of a movie screen. They’re even recognizing people who’ve been to other shows.
“There’re a few people we see in the crowd almost weekly,” Shelby said. “It’s a good feeling, knowing they’re connecting to our music.”
“Audrey writes most of our songs,” Krista joined in. “Shell-Bell wrote a couple, too.”
We wondered if any of Audrey’s songs came from the dark times she experienced not that long ago. Her answer surprised us.
“I haven’t dug into that just yet. I think it would be too painful.” Reflecting on her lyrics, Audrey continued, “I’m still trying to get used to writing lyrics. There’s nothing deep about them. It’s very basic. Actually, I think Shell-Bell is a much better lyricist than me. Her songs have depth. I think if I ever find some courage and start digging into what happened in my past, I could get there.”
“I think Aud’s being a little too humble,” Krista said. “Yes, her songs are fun, and they’re not Stairway to Heaven yet, but people connect with fun songs.”
“And Shelby’s,” Marty added. “We have fans now. So Aud’s lyrics are connecting somehow. When we play our song ‘Yeah,’ the crowd goes all radical. They love it.”
“I think that’s our favorite song to play,” Krista said.
“There’s always room for improvement,” Audrey concluded.
As we sat around a table in the employee lounge behind Strawberry Rocket’s kitchen, I noticed a pair of roller skates sitting on the floor beside Krista. Inquiring about them led to a charming anecdote.
“I wear them on stage,” Krista informed me. “It kind of became my thing.”
“She almost rolled off the stage one night,” Marty laughed.
Instead of rebuking Marty’s tale, Krista only put her head into her hands, embarrassed.
I’ve seen emerging bands before, but when I watched them perform, it was a real treat. Under a canopy of a darkening early-evening sky, with the lightest breeze brushing past me, I sat, stage left, and witnessed a band full of heart. Even with their rough edges showing—a bit of feedback here, a missed note there—this band had something you can’t teach: presence.
There was a cohesion that bands who’ve been together for many years don’t have. Regardless of any off-stage brooding, Marty’s pinpoint percussion beats and Krista’s grooving basslines melded the backbone of each song. Throughout the evening, Audrey showed herself to be a capable lead singer and rhythm guitarist. And Shelby played one of the best solos I’ve heard in a while during the song: ‘Summer Songs’. Full of blistering soul, the snippet of music, played in the A major pentatonic scale, made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
And sure, the lyrics weren’t groundbreaking. Yet, they were very good for a band this young, and even better compared to some of the bands you sing along to on the radio.
The crowd of at least three hundred people—their biggest to date—cheered and danced and sang along to The Allurettes until sundown. Although I’ve been writing about the East Coast music scene for a number of years now, you don’t have to have studied music to hear the promise being bellowed out in the form of sweet harmonies to know these girls are good. The crowd at Strawberry Rockets proved that.
With the heart of a tigress, but the mind of a realist, Audrey Peterson understands there’s a long row to hoe. As far as next steps, she, along with the rest of the girls, isn’t sure. All they know is it’s going to be a fun ride. However, she does have one wish…
“Maybe we’ll open for Kix one day.”