Gordon Russell Spaeth
b. September 21, 1951
d. March 8, 2005
Gordon Spaeth died in New York City on a blizzardy evening, the elements outside his apartment window likely mirroring the storm inside him. He had, at 53, settled into a comfortable routine. He was living at the Prince George Hotel near his beloved Tin Pan Alley, avoiding drugs and alcohol, lifting weights, writing short stories and reading them at the Y, and occasionally giving harmonica lessons and sitting in on saxophone with The Fleshtones and The Waldos.

Although Gordon hadn't been a member of The Fleshtones since 1988, his impression as the fifth man, as Mr. Excitement, is indelible to the thousands around the world who had the pleasure of watching him onstage. Gordon was a true character, an hilarious social misfit who dressed and acted the part of the sincere aging JD with a heart of gold. We might remember his surliness edged with mayhem when he'd been drinking too much. The combination of drug- and alcohol-abuse and depression surely forced him off of the stage nearly two decades ago, but memories of Gordon's dark side are always complemented by memories of his wicked sense of humor, his razor-sharp asides, his personal generosity, and, above all, his love for retro fashion, R&B and rock & roll.

We were outside of society, we didn't have to take any crap from anybody, we could write any songs we wanted, we invented our own reality, we dressed the way we wanted, we didn't have to take orders from anybody, we didn't work regular jobs, and we were very good at what we did and at what we were supposed to do.

What were we supposed to do? Show kids a good time, give a kid with some acne, a young teenage boy, the confidence to ask a girl next to him to dance. We brought a lot of happiness to peoples' lives.