Grand Funk Railroad: Mark, Don & Mel

VIRTUALLY EVERY practicing rock critic worth his sneer, of course, has sought to explicate Grand Funk's ascent to commercial ultra-gargantuanity over countless identically horrible Cream legatees, but no one, to my mind, has paid sufficient attention to the important roles played in that ascent by producer/manager/mastermind Terry Knight's apparently innate gaucheness, and the unflinchingly humorless conviction with which he wielded that gaucheness.