Melding garage rock with glam, punk emerged in the early ’70s, set on stirring society’s pot. From New York to London, Dallas to Detroit, youthful contempt spurred the creation of raw, loud, low-budget music raging against Top 40 and arena rock.

In Akron, Ohio, the anger was disproportionate. Poster child for the dying American industrial town, kids there hammered on guitars to stand against the dread of settling into a factory job and watching the calendar flip. But their music was different. Informed by art and the intellectualism of U of Akron and Kent State, it had a sound all its own.

After Devo’s “challenging” act landed an opening slot for David Bowie, record companies converged, hoping to wring revenue from other new-wave/post-wave bands representing the “Akron sound.” The Rubber City Rebels, Bizarros, and Tin Huey were all courted and recorded, but none became stars.

Thanks to a quirky tune called “I Know What Boys Like,” Chris Butler almost did. While serving as guitarist/percussionist/“floater” in Tin Huey, in 1979, Butler wrote the song and recorded a demo, then played it for the band. It was met with a sideways glance.

“They were very sophisticated and erudite, and here I was, pitching this sexy-tease pop song,” Butler chuckled. “I wasn’t surprised.”

After Huey disbanded later that year, Butler moved to New York to live with his girlfriend and continue writing songs. Along for the ride were acetates of “I Know What Boys Like” and one other tune he intended to pitch to labels; “Boys Like” quickly caught the ear of a rep at Island who signed Butler to a singles deal on the subsidiary Antilles Records, then asked for a B side. Not having a band to record one, he dipped into NYC’s downtown “no wave” scene to recruit keyboardist Dan Klayman, bassist Dave Hofstra, saxophonist Mars Williams, vocalist Ariel Warner, and drummer Billy Ficca. He then phoned to ask Kent State student Patty Donahue (whom he’d met through a musician friend and coaxed onstage to sing a couple of his songs at a Huey gig) to join them. After Butler wired his last $50, she boarded a Greyhound.

Butler dubbed the gathering The Waitresses, and within a few weeks they sweetened “I Know What Boys Like” and did 10 other Butler songs to create Wasn’t Tomorrow Wonderful. The band’s new label, ZE Records, opted to release “Boys Like” as a single (with “No Guilt” as the B side), and it peaked just outside the Top 50 in late May, thanks to support from MTV and a slot on the soundtrack to the hit teen flick The Last American Virgin.

Well-received by critics, the band and album stood out for Butler’s clever, literate lyrics and the attitude in Donahue’s vocal delivery. After Hofstra was replaced by Tracy Wormworth that summer, the band finished a tour then, after an 11th-hour phone call, immediately headed to Los Angeles to record the theme song for a new CBS sitcom, “Square Pegs,” starring Sarah Jessica Parker. Upon landing, they were informed the song hadn’t yet been written. The task fell to them.

Hoping to ride a bit of momentum, after a few weeks off, they recorded an EP, I Could Rule the World If I Could Only Get the Parts, which offered fans the chance to buy “Square Pegs” and four other songs, including one that would become a surprising part of the 21st-century holiday zeitgeist.

Originally released in England on a 1981 Island/ZE Records holiday compilation, “Christmas Wrapping” was The Waitresses’ view of the season from the perspective of a frazzled 20-something single girl.

Penned by Butler (a self-confessed Scrooge at the time) and recently labeled “…a delightfully cynical ‘anti-Christmas’ song” by the BBC, it came together under less-than-ideal circumstances. In the midst of a long, hot tour, the band was far from being in a holiday mood when it involuntarily entered Electric Lady Studios on August 10. Butler had sorted through leftover licks to devise the melody and was still penning lyrics on the cab ride there, his oddball Vox Mark VI “teardrop” guitar propped next to him. Not fond of the compilation album’s concept and having the session wedged into their schedule, the process was uncomfortable right down to the studio’s guitar amp.

“I hadn’t played through a Marshall until we recorded ‘Christmas Wrapping,’” he said. But they at least let him use his pedals – an MXR Phase 90 and MXR Distortion+. The latter came to him in an unusual way.

“Bruce Springsteen played the last date supporting Darkness on the Edge of Town in Akron on January 1, 1979, and a friend of mine was a stagehand at Richfield Coliseum. When the set was over, he took me onstage, where Bruce was thanking the crew. I was introduced and mumbled something about how great his guitar sounded. He ran across the stage and pulled up the Distortion+, then shoved it in my hand and said, ‘I’m not going to be needing this.’”

Both pedals were later stolen during a Waitresses gig at The Peppermint Lounge, in New York.

“We were coming out to do ‘Christmas Wrapping’ as an encore, and somebody had grabbed them,” Butler recalled. “There’s nothing lamer than playing that opening riff without distortion (laughs).”

The Waitresses recorded one more album, 1983’s Bruiseology, but then folded in ’84, succumbing to the frustration of never quite making it.

By ’87, Butler was disillusioned with the music biz and sold off most of his guitars and gear to friends Chris Cush and Peter Kohman at Mojo Guitars, on 12th Street in Manhattan. Though he was still writing/recording songs and gigging on drums as a hobby, he supported himself by working as a tape logger for ABC News.

The Mark VI didn’t cross his mind again until one day in the fall of 2002, when Kohman called to tell him that Christine Maes, who’d bought it in the summer of ’88, wanted to sell it, but only to someone who could appreciate what it was. Butler was intrigued, if unsure.

“I had a little money and thought it’d be fun to have, and maybe would be a good investment,” he said. “Plus, I’d sold it under sad circumstances and thought getting it back might restore some balance in my universe.”

Maes being in Belgium made for some logistical effort…

“A day or two before I was set to fly over, Peter called and said that on the day Christine bought the guitar, a truly bizarre cosmic alignment had actually placed two very rare blue Mark VIs in their shop, and they couldn’t say for certain which one she got.”

Kohman, who believes the guitars were very likely assembled and finished together the same day, asked Butler what he remembered about his, but there wasn’t much beyond its broken vibrato arm, a fact rendered useless by Cush’s having given it a vintage replacement.

Butler began doubting himself, thinking, “It’s not like I’m looking for my lost youth or trying to recapture some shining moment; truth be told, the Waitresses experience was pretty miserable. Why am I doing this?”

Nonetheless, he got on the plane. Mid flight, it occurred to him; “I’m doing this because there’s a 50/50 chance that’s my g**damn guitar!”

In Brussels, Butler used a Sony MiniDisc to document the transaction along with Maes’ memories of using the Mark VI through the ’90s in a band that recorded many songs and toured the European pub and festival circuit. When he landed back in Newark, customs asked if the guitar was his. Butler’s reply (and having to pay the $43.67 import duty) cemented its status in his mind.

Today, Butler runs a recording studio in Akron, working on his own projects and helping friends with theirs. Naturally, it requires a gathering of instruments and amps, so the walls are lined with a refin ’64 Jazzmaster he calls the “House Paint Special,” a Burns/Baldwin Double Six, two Rickenbacker 12-strings, a ’63 Gretsch 6120, a ’68 Double Anniversary, Danelectro Longhorn bass, Jerry Jones six-string bass, Hagstrom eight-string bass, a Guild Starfire XII in rare translucent Ebony Grain finish with gold hardware, and other pieces.

“I have some wonderful stuff and I love to let my friends use it,” he said. “Every amp I ever lusted for is here – a wonderful Vox AC30, an AC100, a Selmer Zodiac Twin 30, two Magnatones, a 50-watt Marshall Super Lead, and a JCM 800. There’s also an SVT stack, an AC10, a Vox Cambridge, a Conqueror, and blackface Fenders.”

Thanks to TV, movies, and loads of ’80s nostalgia, “I Know What Boys Like” and “Christmas Wrapping” have given The Waitresses – and Chris Butler’s Vox Mark VI – status as pop-culture icons.

To hear Chris Butler’s recording of the events and thoughts leading up to his 2002 trip to Brussels, and his conversation with Christine Maes, visit futurefossilmusic.com/myalbum/album.htm and click on the embedded “Album – An Audio Memoir: Track 8.”

This article originally appeared in VG’s March 2024 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.