Toga Titan

Marcus Neverhart, formerly of the great 60s band Toga Titan's, was a mysterious man while living and never really told his side of the much publicized breakup of the band. However, this excerpt from Neverhart's soon to be released book The Real Titan of Toga's explains his story. While considered a recluse and a nut job for the last few years of his life, Neverhart never lost his biting wit and British charm. This particular excerpt is a chapter titled "Why My Best Friend is a Complete Moron When it Comes to Anything Having to do With Life." I hope you enjoy.

It was probably the year nineteen hundred and fifty seven when I first met Nate Rogers at the local pub. We were both struggling musicians at the time, and the band I was with went on after his that evening. His group was called The Magic Guru's while mine was Witch's Brew. Neither of our bands really connected with that audience, but after our set, I met up with Nate and had a glass of tea. We talked over a few things, politics and the like, before getting to the subject of ditching our bands and forming a new one. He claimed to know a great drummer and bass player, while I could sing lead and he would play guitar. It seemed like a match made in Heaven, since the pub we were at was called Heaven's Pub.

We arranged a meeting with the new band-mates and talked over the direction we wanted the new group to go in. First off, our name was a big issue. I always stuck by Toga Titan's, but Nate wanted The Cockroaches. I told him that insect names were never going to sell, but he insisted. One afternoon after a big fight about the name, Nate locked himself in the bathroom for three hours and screamed out "The Cockroaches will rule the earth" repeatedly. That was the first time I had a notion that something was wrong with his noggin.

A few months later, after the name thing was decided, we played our first show, a young girl's fifteenth birthday party. The backyard was packed with youngsters jamming out to the first song we wrote as a band, "Don't You Wish Your Head was Smaller you Giant Headed Freak." We knew that we were going to make it when the parents told us to turn the noise down and sing Happy Birthday traditionally. Controversial lyrics always sell, and I was not about to sell out for a fifteen year old's birthday just because a couple parents didn't care for our style. Nate, of course, felt differently and said the only way to get paid was to sing the songs like the parents wanted. He never understood that it was about the music, not the money.

Years later, we were playing in Heaven's Pub to a rowdy audience, when all of a sudden I felt the urge to jump off the stage and into the crowd. The crowd caught me and held me up on their fingers, passing me around for a few good minutes, the put me back up on stage. After the show, Nate seemed upset about the whole stunt and said that we can't get too edgy or no label will ever sign us. Just that moment, an executive at a major record company entered the room and offered us a deal. He said it was due to my choreographed stunt that separated us from other talent. Of course, Nate was jealous of my creativity, but that didn't stop him from signing the checks.

It was our first road trip together when I really felt that something was wrong with Nate. We had four members in the band, but our manager could only afford two rooms, so, after drawing straws, I was stuck with Nate. It was alright at first, but Nate has a few quirky qualities about him that drove me bonkers. For instance, an hour before going to sleep, Nate sticks these plastic tubes up his nose to, as he says, "clear the nasal membrane of excess gunk." So he walks around with these things up his nose. Let me tell you, it's bloody annoying. One time I had a beautiful blonde in the room for some tea and pound cake when Nate walks in with the tubes up his nostrils. My lady friend was so disgusted that she barely finished her cake before leaving.

Another real problem is Nate's phobia about heating units. He claims that they are the cause of lime disease, so he never lets us turn them on. This can be difficult when we play concerts in North Dakota during winter. Our drummer got frostbite while brushing his teeth one evening. But, at that time, we were just happy to be playing music and making money for it.

Then it all started to go downhill. Fame and fortune came on quickly and, while three of us handled it well, Nate didn't. Every time he would get a check, he spent it on drugs, women, or hair products. One time he even used a whole paycheck for one bottle of mousse. It was hard to deal with because, at the time, we were only behind The Beatles, The Stones, and Sonny and Cher on the charts. We even talked about doing a cover of "I Got You Babe", but our manager thought it would alienate too many of our fans.

By the next spring, the inevitable happened. Nate's hair began to fall out, sending him into deep depression. Being one of his only friends, I spent a lot of time over at his house, convincing him that he still looked mighty sexy on stage. It didn't work. And with Nate not being able to play guitar at top quality, our music suffered. We fell out of the top 40 and were sent back to playing local gin joints and barely selling half the seats in a high school auditorium. I decided that we had gone as far as we could together, so we broke up.

After that, I never spoke to Nate Rogers again. One time I saw him buying the soundtrack to Hair in a record store, but didn't say hi. He had lost enough hair to have a considerable horseshoe on his head, and I didn't want to depress him with my flowing blonde locks. So, that was the last time I saw any of the Toga Titan members. It's amazing how long we lasted when you think about how bloody different we were. Especially me and Nate. He was a good chap I guess you could say, even though we never really saw eye to eye. I hope that he is doing well and that he picks up a copy of the book. He was, and still is, one of the best friends I've ever had.