Celebrating 40 years of the World's Best Rock and Roll!

Vanilla Fudge!

Since 1967

"1967 is the year that actually marked the millennium. Time assigned as of Christ's birth commenced its count thirty-three years later, upon his 'death'; 2000 - 33 = 1967. Hence, the immense millennial change then occured. Regardless of time's illusion, 1967 is clear the year when the 60's permafirmly set inevitable effect into perpetual motion. 'The dawning of the age...', Sergeant Pepper released, the Summer of Love. The inception of the Vanilla Fudge.

Music's message, through the megatransformer, Vanilla Fudge, was infused with power yet unknown. Arrangement innovated as composition. Commitment, artistry, profound sound since. Cultural Evolutionaries.

A quartet of virtuosos, master musicians, a boys' choir: Mark the Maestro; Timmy the Baryshnikov of Bass; Carmine, the Olympian; Vinny, the Guitar Czar; they endure as an unparallelled phenomenon, historically unique, indelibly influential; then, 40 years later, and....forevermore."

 - Carl O. DeAngelis
 ("composer" of the original Vanilla Fudge Symphony on Renaissnce)



by Carl O. DeAngelis

We the Free,
need only be,
for all to see;


Ignore War.
Export Support,
jeans, genes,
and movie scenes.
Rock 'n Roll Soul.

Marble corridors,
mortared quarters,
barked orders
over borders;
mimicked mindless mantras,
quickly quoted quips.
Men with no lips
purport and sport 'authority';
play their way
by politricks
on hanger ons,
automatons, they
tell and sell,
"for you, are we",
winking, "what's
in it for me?"

Our planet's plague,
tribal triumph,
tribal war.
Pride or profit,
What's it for?

the false, the true?
Its cost exceeds
our last value.

Lefts cry cooperate,
Rights call compete.
Both we'll need
to succeed,
when Prophecy
and History meet.

Ice melting,
Earth quaking,
Euphrates Hades,
making waking.

Where reared the Heads
of the Beast,
and tempted Kings
of the East,
Ignorance, Arrogance
to the final fatal folly ran.

Hell can't compel
nor quell
it there, where
it all began.

Empire comes,
some may go.
Foretold of old
need not be so.

Reverse the curse,
Hear the Silence.
The Universe
Evolves from violence.


Souls filed in line await
to live this life, incarnate.
Water wears the rock to dust.
Patience, Faith, Time and Trust.

Music's muse
moves the masses,
sculpts culture,
crosses classes.
Waves of change,
higher cause;
more potent power
than all Lands' laws.

Conspicuous consumers,
later bloomers, Baby Boomers:
Remember Heaven;
Love's as it was
In '67.

Oarsmen who would innovate,
craft the raft if this be fate.
Twelfth month, twelfth year,
sail as not that fear be near.

Govern ourselves,
an attainable creed?
If so, self-government
we don't need.

Eye to the sky:
a space race?
Or, maybe if,
just in case,
He'll be comin' round again,
back in town, again. 'Til then,

The Pluribus remains the Reality, so,
The Unum still stays the Dream.
The Free cannot be Governed, no,
The Governed cannot be Free.

©2007 Carl O. DeAngelis


The Original Vanilla Fudge Symphony


This sphere
is near
to being done
or being one
The Perpetual Inconceptual is
and silently awaits
from we the people
in order to form a more perfect
The neurosis nucleus
must be made vestigal
so the raw flaw legacy
will be a mutation
in the new habitation
All ones shall softly
quietly express
the image of the asexual ultimate
while floating through beauty
love and peace
...more than you will know
So-so, So-so
Cleanse before the angel falls
Wall of walls


Consciousness expansion
a reprimand
where is the consciousness
to expand
To say and do both
is a difficult game
where is the one
who's both are the same
Looks aren't deceiving
when vibrations are seen
but looks are just looking
Through a translucent screen
The pulpit of music
is leading the way
for all who will listen
to the silent next day
Is where it's at
really known
where it isn't
must be shown
This place has its place
not to be confused
by presuming all
and that all has been used
A beautiful person
is a beautiful thought
a living soul
unhung uncaught

Pretty people
born of passion
competing defeating
is inevitable fashion
Taught so well
until it's too late
all the wrongs
to accumulate
Who was it that said
our primary need
is before we are dead
we have to succeed
Success in itself
must be one's own
Peace in the head
when completely alone
A partner doubles
all that there is
but look in the mirror
what is hers or his
Nothing is something
and something is nothing
the mixture is
for later on
Until then
continue how
breathing air
must do for now



An art form has risen
from St. John and St. Paul
St. George and St. Ringo
spreading to all
slowly moved
by its gentle growth
disciples compelled
overwhelmed and possessed
joining together
in doing the best
Following following
not knowing how far
Jim's special friend
the avatar
Where we are going
not where we have been
error's showing
"Let us begin"
Hi Ho Silver - AWAY



.By Carl DeAngelis

©copyright 1968