Peter Lemongello

The Wall Street Journal

WEDNESDAY, MARCH 31, 1976

A Pop Singer Blows His Own Horn in Bid For Instant Stardom

Peter Lemongello Blankets New York With TV Ads:

Will He Win a Big Pact?

By Jonathan Kwitny

Staff Reporter of The Wall Street Journal

  NEW YORK - Until Jan. 17, when the television advertising started. Most New Yorkers thought that lemon Jell-O was just something to eat.

  Now, however, a lot of them know otherwise, thanks to a $200,000 campaign that is jamming all six New York channels with 70 to 100 commercials a week. They know that Peter Lemongello (pronounced just like the dessert) is  a dark-haired young pop singer with a face so beautiful he looks made out of plastic. And they know he is trying to sell record albums-as TV viewers in other large cities will find out soon if Mr. Lemongello's advertising blitz spreads as planned.

  But what most viewers probably don't know is that the chief motive for the ads isn't to make money selling records (although a profit from sales now seems assured) or to fill Avery Fisher Hall on Friday, when Mr. Lemongello has rented it out for a concert to wind up his campaign (although the concert was sold out two weeks in advance).

  What Mr. Lemongello is mainly trying to do, he admits, is to buy himself instant stardom and a big recording contract with a major label. After eight lean years in music, Mr. Lemongello, 29, finally decided that the only way he would reach the top was by short-circuiting the industry establishment and striking off on his own-apparently an unprecedented step.

The Lemongello Way

  Mr. Lemongello was convinced of his business acumen. He says he made $80,000 as an independent housing developer on Long Island in 1974 while still struggling to get his singing career off the ground. So last summer, after Epic Records (a division of CBS that had issued one unsuccessful record for him) declined to renew his contract, he quit the William Morris Agency (his seventh agent).

  He formed his own corporation. Lemongello Enterprises... talked seven Long Island investors out of $390,000 in venture capital, cut a two LP album, filmed a commercial and hired a well-known press agent. Richard Gersh. If Mr. Lemongello succeeds-and he seems on his way-the same music industry moguls who once laughed at his self-promotion scheme now concede he could alter the way musical careers are built.

  "I knew by then you needed a lot of money to launch a singer." he says. "Name value is everything. If people know who you are you can work any-place. If they don't know who you are, you can be great and they won't hire you. And I'm not a great singer." (He is, he clarifies. "a good singer.")

Breaking the Barrier

  Once again Mr. Pascuzzi, the banker, rescured his career with encouragement. He demanded to know what Mr. Lemongello needed to do. "I said, make a record and go on TV and try to sell it." Mr. Lemongello recalls. The singer says he took the idea to at least 100 persons in the music industry. The verdict was unanimous. He says that Mr. Sslomon of William Morris expressed it most eloquently: "He thought I was nuts." (Mr. Salomon now denies using the word "nuts" but acknowledges he may have told Mr. Lemongello the idea wouldn't work without a major record label behind it.)

  So Mr. Pascuzzi found Mr. Lemongello a lawyer, who drew up a prospectus (it begins, "Purchase of these securities involves a high degree of speculative and economic risk"). Then Mr. Pascuzzi found several dozen potential investors, who were shown films of the singer's four widely spaced appearances on the Johnny Carson show. Mr. Lemongello rented the Westbury Music Fair theater on Long Island for $12,800 so his prospective investors could see him in concert "in a star context." The 2,500 seats at $7.50 were sold out. Mr. Lemongello says, and explains: "My friends got lists of everybody they knew, and they would say. "Here's 10 tickets. Sell them.' "Was the crowd familiar to him? "It was like a wedding," he says.

  Afterward, seven investors coughed up $250,000, which they increased to $390,000 after the ad campaign took off. For their money, they received 35% of the stock and 50% of the voting power in Lemongello Enterprises, whose only asset is a 10-year exclusive contract for Mr. Lemongello's crooning. The singer retains 65% of the stock and draws a salary of $1,500 a week.

The Family Name

  The company's first decision was to keep Mr. Lemongello's family name. "There are advantages to it." Mr. Pascuzzi says. "When any woman goes into a supermarket and happens to be passing the Jell-O counter, maybe something automatic will register in her mind."

  The next problem was the commercials. Mr. Lemongello himself devised the strategy down to the smallest detail. The campaign started with two weeks of 10-second teaser spots that said. "Peter Lemongello...Love '76 (the name of the album)...Watch for it. "With the audience's curiosity presumably aroused, there began eight weeks of one and two-minute spots showing Mr. Lemongello singing (by very rough comparison, his voice is Andy Williams and his style Mel Torme), followed by instructions on how to order the album. As the campaign progressed, the company set up a cramped, walk-in office at 5417 Merrick Road in Massapequa, Long Island.

  Peter Lemongello's life already has changed radically. When the project began in 1974, he decided to divorce his wife of eight years (there weren't and children). He says the attention is forcing him to sell his Islip. Long Island. home ("I come home at four in the morning, and people are waiting for me.") A reporter trying to interview Mr. Lemongello at a diner is interrupted a dozen times and hour by autograph seekers and snapshot takers. The singer always obliges cordially.

  Meanwhile, Mr. Lemongello can take some satisfaction from the admiration of industry figures who once scoffed at his ideas.