Well, it’s been a memorable year. Definitely not a good one, but for sure memorable.
In January, we lost one of my favorite musicians/lyricists and writers ever, brilliant Rush drummer Neil Peart, to cancer. I’ll probably write about him next week to mark a year since his passing. Also in January, I moved to a house where I have a dedicated studio space and I played some great shows with Chandler and The Bings in Austin and San Antonio.
In February I traveled to Raleigh to hang with my brothers and see the amazing Canadian band Sloan. We jammed and I got to play real drums. It was super fun. And I played some more great shows with Chandler and The Bings in Austin and San Antonio.
In March, everything shut down. Shows all cancelled. I started to do my day job from the aforementioned home studio (which turned out to be awesome, actually). Work began in earnest for Chandler and The Bings recording studio versions of some of our creatively-rewritten cover songs.
In April, one of my songwriting heroes, Adam Schlesinger (Fountains Of Wayne, “That Thing You Do!”, Crazy Ex-Girlfriend, etc.), died of complications of COVID-19. This loss inspired me to write my first song in years. Work continued on the Chandler and The Bings tracks.
In May, I released that Adam Schlesinger tribute – at least as a rough demo. I also decided to commit to being a weekly content creator and started this Museday Mumblings feature on the blog, covering topics ranging from generational music differences to a few political rants. I’m overall very proud that I’ve kept up with it and proud of the content, and it will continue into 2021. I also blogged about launching a video series, bringing back “The Bathroom Schizo” with a feature called the “Friday Flush” but haven’t managed to record any new songs yet. In 2021, I will make this happen. I have better gear for accomplishing the task now. So look out for The Friday Flush, coming soon (seriously this time…)!
In June, it was a lot of writing this blog, and analyzing mixes of the Chandler and The Bings single.
In July, Chandler and The Bings released its first official single. We were very proud of it. Not a whole lot happened with me musically except more blogging.
In November, we had some tension and distance in Chandler and The Bings, because of so much time with nothing really happening, but we talked about it and ended up having a practice, working up three new songs to add to the repertoire, which was very fun!
In December an acquaintance of mine, Patrick Fleming, chose to take his own life. I feel like if we didn’t end up in this 2020, Pat and I would have hung out and become actual friends. It made me very sad. But Chandler and The Bings managed another practice, which was wonderful. We also got vaccines to battle the coronavirus. Which gives a little bit of hope for 2021 and actually playing shows again!
So that’s basically my 2020. I left out the politics and stuck to music.
Black Lives Matter. Until the vaccine is widespread enough, keep wearing that mask and washing your hands, and stay physically distant. Keep those damn droplets to yourself. And thank goodness 2021 promises to be less of a shitshow than 2020. Here’s hoping I don’t regret those words.
I love it so much I try to live it every day by being as nice as one should around the holiday season. I don’t believe holiday kindness should be restricted to the holiday season. I think it should be an all-year thing.
I’m also of the mind that there are essentially two Christmases – one religious, one cultural/commercial. There is some overlap, but the religious one is about Jesus, and the cultural/commercial one is about Santa. Both encourage us to be nice and generous, both have solid traditions that have been around for many years. And honestly, both are kind of bullshit, when you really get down to it, but let’s not think about that right now.
Let’s talk about my history with Christmas, and specifically Christmas music, since this is primarily a music blog.
My earliest memories of Christmas traditions are everyone planning to go to midnight mass, Christmas trees and lights on houses, and people caroling. Christmas specials on TV (like “A Charlie Brown Christmas”, which features some of the best music ever recorded – we’ll get to that later), and everyone trying to be a little nicer and a little more generous.
As my ideas about Christmas progressed, I guess I believed in Santa, but can distinctly remember when I got wise that it was just a fun myth, when I walked in on people wrapping presents in my Granny’s kitchen one year. I was sworn to secrecy and maintained the fiction, feeling cool because I was in on the tradition with the grown-ups for years, until my little brothers all figured it out on their own.
A constant feature of Christmas gatherings and celebrations in my family was Christmas music. All the standards – Rudolph, Frosty, Sleigh Bells, Jingle Bells, Silent Night, White Christmas, etc. We’d all sing the songs together, sometimes in the car like in “A Christmas Story”, and since no one in the family were musicians, it was all acapella. It was nice.
My family was religious, but in a New York Roman Catholic sort of way – you went to mass, coffee and donuts after, every now and then confession, you did stuff for people, that was pretty much the expression of the faith. The music at church (really, no matter what parish we attended through the years – we moved a lot) was thoroughly mediocre. So I don’t really have a “church music” influence when it comes to Christmas music. It’s all mass-market/pop culture stuff. I’d add the classical stuff through music appreciation class in college and through my first marriage, because her mom is an opera singer and classical music was BIG in her family.
So as we explore the Christmas music I love, I’m going to just start with my favorite Christmas music. It is the music from “A Charlie Brown Christmas” – all the wonderful pieces by the Vince Guaraldi Trio. It’s somehow simple and complex at the same time – enhancing its memorable melodic ideas with a whole lot of tasty jazz stuff. And it just feels like Christmas to me.
My mother was the main driving force in Christmas music, and since she’s a proud Irish-American woman, we heard a lot of The Clancy Brothers Christmas. The fact that she’s an early Baby Boomer means that we got a heaping helping of The Beach Boys Christmas album, too.
Of course, when radio stations would play the Christmas classics, or we’d be walking through stores listening to the in-store PA, we’d always happily consume all-time classics like Burl Ives’ version of “A Holly Jolly Christmas” or “Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer“, Andy Williams’ “It’s The Most Wonderful Time of the Year“, Nat King Cole’s “The Christmas Song“, Leroy Anderson’s “Sleigh Ride” instrumental, and basically everything that shows up on the “Christmas Classics” playlists. It all made an imprint, and certain songs are guaranteed to either whip up powerful feelings of nostalgia, or powerful feelings of absence and detachment, not being with my family for the holidays. (Fuck you very much, Coronavirus, and all the idiots who haven’t followed guidelines and allowed you to keep spreading)
All those classics kind of lived right next to the more “rock era” Christmas standards, like Bobby Helms’ “Jingle Bell Rock“, the stuff from Darlene Love and The Ronettes, the aforementioned Beach Boys (“Little Saint Nick”), Brenda Lee, and all that stuff.
And of course, the novelty classics, like The Chipmunk Song. That one was huge to me because it was so funny. We had that album, too. And I remember my parents had a copy of José Feliciano’s self-titled album from 1970 that featured “Feliz Navidad” as its first track. It was shiny. The Spotify link goes to the 2002 reissue, which they renamed after the famous track. I still smile when I hear that song.
As I got older, new Christmas albums became traditions, like the very first “A Very Special Christmas” CD. Run-D.M.C.’s “Christmas In Hollis” is still one of my favorite Christmas songs. Lots of really weird and cool interpretations of Christmas classics on that one. One of my favorite adopted traditions that started as a joke but became a staple is Alabama Christmas. Ten all-original Christmas songs by everyone’s favorite Country crossover artist from the 80s, Alabama. Ranging from sappy to goofy to lovely, it pretty much is a perfect Christmas encapsulation of Alabama as an artist. More artists should find a way to make a Christmas album as perfectly “them” and as perfectly original as this Alabama album. I think you’ll be surprised at how delightfully “Christmas” and how warm it is, if you’re open to the 80s country thing.
As I mentioned before, it wasn’t until I got older that I started to appreciate classical Christmas music, which is kind of ironic considering my interest in the religious aspects of the holiday are inversely proportional to the religious themes of most of the beautiful sacred classical music I’ve grown fond of in the last 20 years or so.
Other Christmas songs that seem to be beloved, like “Happy Xmas (War Is Over” and “Wonderful Christmastime” can die in a fire, for me. Not sure why I hate them so much, considering my admiration for John and Paul otherwise, but I do. Nothing gets me off a Christmas station or skipping on a playlist faster than those two songs. Well, maybe “The Christmas Shoes“, but that abomination is at least fairly universally reviled except by the cheesiest people.
The more recent pop Christmas stuff – 80s stuff like “Last Christmas“, “Do They Know It’s Christmas“, 90s stuff like “All I Want For Christmas Is You” – meh, it’s fine. I don’t really love it, but I don’t hate it, either. I did enjoy that movie “Last Christmas” from last Christmas with Emilia Clarke, though.
Even though I love it, I completely understand why people might not be into Christmas music, because I recognize how much of my affection for it comes from my family and life experiences and not from a pure place of musical appreciation or some sort of deep religious connection to Christmas.
I hope you’ve all had a wonderful Christmas. Mine was lovely. I miss my family, but I will figure out a way to be sure we’re together at least in part next year.
Take care, mask up, stay home, and peace be the journey. Black Lives Matter.
Happy Christmas to all – even if it’s just December 25th to you.
This is my Santa. He’s the best Santa ever. My favorite ornament of all time.
TMS
Museday Mumblings (Vol. 30): DO IT. Life can be shorter than you think.
Let me tell you a story about a really nice guy I met that I was friendly with but never quite got past the acquaintance stage.
I first became aware of him in the “scene” when he fronted a rather successful U2 tribute band here in town. A local morning show I used to listen to on my commute was making fun of the singer, calling him “Not Bono” and teasing him, and he took it with excellent humor, so decided to check the band out at Fado (which would later become a home base for my band before it closed). They were a lot of fun. Met him briefly between sets, he seemed like a really nice guy. Decent singer, good performer, did a great job as the Bono in the band. Not much progressed from there, as I was busy with my kids and life in general, so I didn’t “hang out” much and didn’t see him again after that.
Cut to about nine years later and we’re both at a mutual friend’s summer jam/block party that they put on in their driveway. We finally connect and we hit it off right away. After about an hour of chewing each other’s ear off about music, life, New Jersey, pizza, politics, all kinds of stuff, we decide to get up and play a few 90s rock songs with another fellow Jersey guy*, as a trio.
* In case you didn’t know, I lived in NJ for almost three years, and apparently that was enough for it to count – I’ve always carried a little Jersey with me because they were such formative years for me – ages 12-15.
So we play, and I sing, and his eyes get HUGE. He was impressed, and showed it, and it was such a lovely confidence boost for me. He was always generous with his fellow musicians, finding ways to lift them up or give them positive encouragement. I was no exception. He used to talk me up in front of other musicians, and it was nice.
Me and Patrick, jamming, 2018. Love his Texas-Jersey shirt.
Now, every time we saw each other for the next two or three years or so, if we were at a jam, we’d play some music together. We’d talk about collaborating and I’d pick his brain about the best strategies for booking gigs as a solo act. Our bands swapped headlining on the stages for Fado’s last St. Patrick’s Day block party.
But our collaboration never happened, unfortunately, and now it never will.
My almost-good-friend took his own life this past weekend.
This is the first time someone who I felt a fast kinship with succumbed to their mental illness in this way. I didn’t realize he was a depressive, too. He was so gregarious and friendly and “up”, I almost feel like I should have known he might have been overcompensating, hiding that darkness like I do when things are rough in my head.
There are so many things that have gone through my head, ways I might have helped, I could have been there for him to talk to about the dark thoughts, all that. But since I was just on the periphery of his existence, I have to be fair to myself. I couldn’t do anything. The darkness won.
And the world is more dark without his lovely soul in it anymore. The tributes to him on his Facebook page have been lovely. He was truly beloved, and I’ve learned so much more about him that I can carry to keep his memory alive thanks to his loving friends and family.
I’m sad I didn’t get to know him better or maybe even write some songs with him. Depression is cruel like that.
If you have the opportunity to do something with someone or simply to get to know them better, don’t waste time. Find a way to do it. Now.
And if you have a friend going through anything like this, call 800-273-8255. They can help.
Rest in Peace, Patrick Fleming.
And Peace Be The Journey. TMS
Museday Mumblings (Vol. 29): Music and Relationships
Unlike most musicians I know, I’ve had a very easy ride when it comes to being a guy in a relationship in a band. Part of that is that I’m just attractive enough for women to be nice to me, but not quite attractive enough for them to want to have sex with me. The opportunities or really, tests, have simply not presented themselves.
I know there are exceptions, like the woman who sexually assaulted me at Spinners the one time, but generally, I’ve never really gotten any action because of music. And that was more because she was drunk and thought I was hot, not necessarily because of the fact that I sang well sitting in with my friends.
I think that a large part of the lack of action is that I’m fundamentally not very cool or confident. It’s been a struggle for basically my entire adult life to develop a sense of self-worth. And you know, not being confident is an easy way to keep the ladies off of you.
And the other big reason is that for the majority of my life in bands, I’ve been “taken” – either actually being married or being in a similar serious, committed, monogamous relationship. And I’m a man of commitment.
Some might say I’ve never really enjoyed the “benefits” of being in a band, but the reality is that I’ve never really sought those benefits from music. I’ve detailed this before on my blog, but for me, music is MINE. It’s not a tool to get laid or impress girls or other people. It’s something I do for me, for my fellow musicians, and to make people HAPPY. That’s it. It’s been that from the beginning. I know that makes me kind of weird, but it works.
But back to music and relationships. My success with relationships has a lot to do with being with women who understand the situation and trust me implicitly. Making clear what the expectations are, what role music plays in my life, and how fundamental a need creating or playing is to my mental health. Both my first wife Heather and my current wife Erin got it. They let me have the space I needed to explore music, whether locking myself for hours in the studio writing and producing stuff (when I did that) or going out and having rehearsals or playing shows. They both were very supportive and trusting, and I never took advantage of that support or violated that trust. Plus we communicated clearly about our expectations and needs, and I would work music around the needs of our relationship and our children. It cost me membership in a few bands, but family’s always been more important to me.
I can imagine how it could be different for others, because I have always avoided relationships with people who expect me to be something I’m not or to give up my interests. Musicians I’ve known with unsupportive partners can really bring down the whole band experience, especially when they ruin the spirit of their partner so they’re not able to contribute to the group at an appropriate level because they’re distracted or sad or whatever.
Thanks to my wife Erin for always understanding I need to fill my “music meter”. You’re the best and I couldn’t ask for someone more supportive or kind.
And thanks to Katie, Jasmine, and Danelle for being good to the other guys about the band. We’re a lucky bunch of fellas.
I’m going to livestream soon. Not sure what I’ll play, but I need to play something that others can hear/see.
The usual admonishments apply: Wear your mask. Black Lives Matter. Wash your hands. Keep your distance. Call your family.
Most people who know me probably don’t know this particular fact about me, because I actually don’t talk about it much anymore.
I love Frank Zappa.
I love his crazy music. I love his family, especially Dweezil. I loved his crazy approach to guitar. I loved his obsession with being different.
Alex Winter (yes, THAT Alex Winter – “Bill S. Preston, esq.” himself) made a beautiful documentary that takes you on a trip through Frank’s life, telling it through unprecedented access to the Zappa Vault – Frank recorded as much as he possibly could of his life, his music, everything. There’s a TON of footage you’d never expect to see. It weaved a wonderful story, focusing on Frank’s music, but detailing how he related to his family, his musicians, the media, the music business, everything. It was fascinating to me.
Let me tell my Zappa story.
It all started when I was a little kid living in the Los Angeles suburbs – San Dimas, California, to be precise. Which I now realize is kind of crazy considering who made the movie. What a connection. Anyway…I heard this song “Valley Girl” on the radio. It was EVERYWHERE in 1982, including on a K-Tel compilation (“The Hit List”) that we got late that year (or perhaps sometime in 1983). The song was Frank’s only real hit, actually. It featured his daughter Moon Unit doing her best Valley Girl voice, in a time before people really talked about that as an American dialect. It was melodic, aggressive, and semi-dirty. It would cut between the refrain “Valley Girl” and Moon telling some story about something in the life of the titular teen in the verses, and then go into more detail in the band-sung refrain. I loved everything about it, from the bendy/slidey bass parts to the hyper-melodic choruses. It was weird and wonderful and so very LA. I don’t know that I really understood where it was all coming from, but the song stayed with me.
Cut to my senior year of high school. There was a kid a year behind me who was obsessed with really great guitarists. I can’t remember exactly the circumstances, but we were working on something for the school, and he had a boom box there, and he played two records: The first Extreme record, and Dweezil Zappa’s then-brand-new solo record “Confessions“, which just happened to be produced by the guitarist from Extreme, Nuno Bettencourt. Nuno was fast becoming one of my favorite musicians because of their second record “Extreme II: Pornograffitti”.
In the fall of 1991, I headed to college at the very large San Diego State University. The summer before, I had purchased the Dweezil Zappa record and that first Extreme record. I listened to them over and over. Especially Dweezil’s album. He had a song on there called “Vanity” that also featured his sister, and it got me thinking about Frank again. A few weeks into being at my very large university, I was wandering through the very large student bookstore at SDSU and one of the books they had there was this:
I HAD to have it.
It’s still one of the best books I’ve ever read by a famous person. It goes all over the place in scope, talking about everything from his life to music, business, politics, fatherhood – just tons of different topics, and I read it over and over. It just clicked with me in much the same way the comedy of my hero George Carlin did. He wrote things and said things that both confirmed what I thought, but expanded it in ways I never would have thought to think.
After reading Frank’s book, I was a fan. I hadn’t even delved that deeply into his music yet (at this point it was basically Valley Girl and Don’t Eat The Yellow Snow), and I just tried to find anything I could about him. I didn’t know a lot of people that shared this affection, so I mostly kept it to myself.
Then I moved to Pennsylvania and met a nice kid named Joel Niemann. He liked weird shit like Primus. I liked them, too, and because of our shared affection for Primus (who SUCKS – fans will get that), we became buddies, and I found out he liked Zappa, too. His friend from home, Brian, was way into Zappa, so I think he thought it was cool I liked him, too. Shortly after that I got the “Sheik Yerbouti” album, which featured a track that Joel used to sing that made me laugh called “Broken Hearts Are For Assholes”. Like the Dweezil record, I wore it out. The more I dig in to Frank, the more I find I haven’t even heard yet. He produced so much music in his shortened life that they’ll probably still be releasing “new” stuff for the next 20 years, and he’s been dead for almost 30 now. He died in December of 1993, and it actually broke my heart. I had just become a massive fan, and he was gone. Even worse, this same “love an artist and then they die almost right away” thing had just happened to me four years before that when Stevie Ray Vaughan died. When my daughter got obsessed with Michael Jackson in early 2009, I was extra sad for her when he passed just a few months later. But at least you always have the music.
Frank Zappa was a true iconoclast. A genius composer of truly modern music, rhythmically complex and dense, but performed with ridiculous attention to detail by the genius musicians he hired in his bands, and frequently sort of undercut by nasty lyrics or sophomoric humor. The pearl-clutchers in this country never quite got past that.
Despite his lack of commercial success in America, Frank was a truly American original, even though Europeans and Asians seemed to “get it” a lot better.
I’m not sure if he was too smart, too weird, or too filthy for “normies” to understand, but those three things are why Frank was so important to me and my development as a musician and a person. I joked to my wife Erin that if I were a table, Zappa and Carlin would be two of the legs. The other two would probably be Science and Mr. Rogers.
I highly recommend you check out The Real Frank Zappa Book and Alex Winter’s “Zappa”.
Spotify playlists for further listening:
A nice Frank Zappa playlist that doesn’t scratch the surface but features the songs I mentioned earlier plus some other cool shit.
The Hit List – That K-Tel record I mentioned earlier
In the spirit of this week, I’m going to dedicate this blog to giving thanks to people who have mattered to me personally as it relates to music. I did a whole blog post on the women who encouraged me (and discouraged me in a way that was motivating), so I won’t be repeating those ladies here.
Starting from the beginning and proceeding in generally chronological order…these are the people for whom I am thankful.
The first person who showed any interest in my musical curiosities was my mother. She rented me a clarinet in fourth grade so I could be in band. She rented me another one in fifth grade and I quit because the teacher was mean. Then she used birthday money for all four of us to purchase a cornet so I could try that. And I quit because the teacher was mean (it was the same jerk – not sure why I thought a change in instrument would make a difference). Then in seventh grade, we moved to New Jersey, I met an awesome kid who lived diagonally across a couple of streets from me who was a MAJOR influence. We’ll get to him in a minute. My mom and dad bought me the same Casio MT-100 keyboard my new friend had for Christmas in 1986. It was the best day ever. I had an INSTRUMENT. I could make sounds and figure out songs. It had rhythms in it. It was so much fun! A few years after that, we made a deal that if I made Honor Roll I could get a nicer keyboard with full-size keys. For Christmas of 1988, she also got a guitar for my brother Bobby, and let me help pick it out and get it all set up. I even got to go to the music store and help pick out an amp. I kind of stole it from him later. I feel bad about it, but we’ll get into how much I love Bobby (he became Rob when he got to about 6th or 7th grade) a little later.
So moving on to the second important person – Steve Parise. He was my friend when I was 8 and 9 when I lived in San Dimas, California, home of tasty waterslides – I hear the high school football rules, too. But back to the story. Steve’s family was very musical. I may be misremembering some of this, so I will update if I’m wrong, but his mom and dad ran some sort of percussion ensemble, so Steve was way into music. We were in band together (he played Alto Saxophone), and he eventually went on to become a most excellent drummer. But that was after I moved away. Steve liked a lot of music I couldn’t really “get” at the time, but we both bonded for our love of pop radio (KIIS-FM – which you can sometimes hear my voice on, today, thanks to the day job), and rock. He was the only kid I knew that was as obsessed with KISS and AC/DC as he was with Michael Jackson and The Go-Go’s. I thought that was an incredible way to be, so I guess you can credit Steve for nudging me into being a Musical Schizo. Because it was all cool. Thanks, Steve. The big ears I have for music might not be quite as big as they are without you.
Sliding back to my mom for a second, since we’re on the “big ears” topic, I have to thank her for buying music for me when I was little. She definitely didn’t have to get some of the things she got, but I loved it so much. I remember the two K-Tel albums I had back then, “Night Flight” and “The Hit List” which had a lot of popular songs of 1980-1982 on them, and I ate them all up, because when you’re 8 years old, you don’t really think about what people might think about what you love. And Men At Work’s “Business As Usual” – that rarely left the turntable. I still have that one saved to my phone on Spotify. It’s a masterpiece, in my opinion. And I would be remiss to not mention my Dad’s support over the years – he always put up with our racket, most likely in hopes that we’d write “that hit song”, but though that never materialized, his ambition for me definitely stuck in the back of my mind. And I definitely have to be thankful for my parents’ record collection. I stole everything, and it was wonderful. Let’s get back on track, though…
When I lived in Fremont, California, one of my best friends was Greg Gardner. Greg is notable in my life for being the first kid I knew that had a guitar. And he was taking lessons. Which was crazy. I remember his guitar was a black Ibanez – I’d later learn that it was a Stratocaster-style guitar. I thought it was SO COOL. I used to share any sort of crazy guitar things I heard with him, and I remember one occasion where I loaned him my dad’s Chicago Transit Authority record so he could take it to his guitar teacher because we were freaking out about the song “Free Form Guitar”. His teacher thought it was cool. I felt like a hero. Greg never really stuck with music, but having the guitar around when I’d be over at his house was sort of big for me. It definitely made me interested in playing. That would be later…
Next I’d have to give thanks for my friend from when I lived in New Jersey, Ty Phillips (he’s the one from diagonally across the streets). Ty was a tall kid from a nice and very creative family. His mom is a relatively famous author (though she only had one or two books out when we were little). His dad played guitar and liked rock and blues stuff (though I admit I don’t think I ever saw him actually play in front of us). Ty and I bonded over just about everything. We both loved music (he was studying trumpet), comedy, cars, BMX freestyle, and skateboards. We both had little brothers. He was smart and sensitive, like me. We used to write little jingles and stuff, and do “radio shows” which usually involved busting out his Casio MT-100 at some point to make silly music. He was way more advanced in his understanding of music than I was, but it was so inspiring. I desperately wanted to understand it the way he did – which was kind of funny because he was basically just starting, too. He was around until the summer after 8th grade, and is still the only friend in my childhood who actually moved away from me. I was always the one leaving after a few years. He made me want to be a musician. After that, it wasn’t “if” I had a band, it was WHEN.
After Ty moved to the Chicago area in the summer of 1987, I was kind of desperate for someone to connect with about music stuff. Not terribly long after that, I met the Murphy brothers, Dan and Mike, who were a few years younger than me. Their mom actually hired me to watch them during the summer of 1988 when she had to work. It was fun mostly because I got paid to hang out with a couple of great kids. Dan was a drummer. Dan’s friend was this boastful and annoying child named Scott Dickscheid who was an aspiring guitarist, and desperately wanted a “Jade Green Ibanez”. Scott’s very attractive and nice sister Stacie was in my grade at school – we had biology class together. But that isn’t necessarily something I’m thankful for, though I do recall biking past their house with my cousin and seeing her laying out by their pool getting a tan. She was kind of a star at our school – always in the theatre productions, and later ended up being a professional actress and agent. But now we’re on another tangent because of a kid that used to annoy the shit out of me and his hot sister. I should also mention that Stacie and Scott’s older brother Chris was a pretty excellent drummer (or so I thought – what did I know at the time?). I think the thing with Scott is that I was mostly just jealous that he was closer friends with Dan and Mike. I was kind of just the babysitter and kind of pathetic hanging out with middle schoolers when I was in high school. It was a weird relationship and I was in a very awkward, desperate, and sad time in my life. Anyway, back to the POINT of mentioning Dan. Dan’s drums were set up at the house, and he would let me play them sometimes. I LOVED it. I’m sure I was terrible, but having that experience with drums helped me understand how drum parts go together and the basics of playing the drum kit. So I’m thankful for that. We also listened to a ton of music and watched MTV a lot. Dan was the first person who tried to turn me on to Rush. I didn’t get it. Three years later I did, and they’re still probably my favorite band of all time. But hey, timing. That was the last blog. Thanks to Dan! (and sorry to Stacie if she reads this and is embarrassed by it).
Now, one of the most important people in my musical development – someone who probably has no idea how important his presence was to my advancement as a musician or my continuing love for it: My brother Rob. Now, I’m sure he thinks it’s just the whole “stealing the guitar” thing, and later the “stealing the bass” thing, and yes, those two things definitely were part of me becoming the musician I am today. BUT it’s important to note that I wasn’t trying to steal anything. I just got obsessed and didn’t care enough about how it made him feel. I wasn’t always the best big brother, unfortunately. Rob getting that Sears Telecaster copy that looked like Prince’s Hohner guitar and a Gorilla combo amp for Christmas was a major event for me. I just wanted to play it. All the time. I even convinced him to keep it in my room, since he was sharing a room with his twin. Eventually, he sort of lost interest and I just kept on with it. I traded him a semi-rare baseball hat for it once we moved to Bakersfield, which was sort of a shit deal for him, but he really wasn’t using it. As he tells the story, I forced him to trade me. He’s probably right. I think I’ve blocked out a lot of my shitty behavior when it comes to my brothers. After I went away to college, Rob decided he wanted to play bass, so I helped him acquire his first bass – an Arbor Precision Bass copy, white with a black pickguard.
Here’s a picture of me playing it in 1992:
It looked AWESOME. (I did not.)
He loved it and started playing like a fiend. After a move to Pennsylvania, we eventually played music together, and this bass was the bass that launched my bass-playing career when I rented it from him to play with the illustrious “Magic Garden” for a few months in early 1993.
But back to Rob himself. We always had a very close bond – my Mom assigned each of her older boys one twin, and Patrick got William, and I got Robert. He was “my baby”. But that responsibility also meant I was pretty hard on him sometimes. I loved when he started playing and we got to play together, even if I corrected him a lot. It just brought me immense joy. I don’t tell him that enough, I don’t think. Hopefully he will read this. He was also kind enough to let me sing for one of his high school bands, and we had a band together called Porque (pronounced “pork”). Later we formed our jam/swap instruments band, Jivetown Jimmy and The Knights of The Purple Cadillac, and we traded off on drums and bass. His twin William played guitar along with our brother-from-another-mother Caleb. We’ll cover those guys a little later. I don’t know how much more I could say about how important it was to have Rob be into playing and have him play with me, but it was huge and I am very thankful.
One of my best friends in my Bakersfield years was David Decker. He was an odd and interesting kid that almost no one at my Catholic high school seemed to understand. My little group of friends did, though, and he was kind enough to let us in to his crazy little world. We bonded over guitar, and frequently would jam together when we’d stay over at each other’s houses. We’d sit near each other in the multiple classes we shared, and it was non-stop guitar talk. I don’t think I would have even thought about the pentatonic or blues scales had it not been for him laying them out on paper and showing me. And I always felt like I could learn anything when being encouraged by my friend. As she grew up, she realized that her biological gender didn’t match what she felt, so she transitioned. Please ignore all the “he/him” pronouns I just used – they’re more a matter of how I’d describe them at the time than anything. David Decker is now Tammy Lynde, and she is an awesome person that I am very thankful to have had as a friend for so many years.
I’m also thankful for Jason Gerena for being another guitar buddy in my senior year of high school. We bonded over Stevie Ray Vaughan and Nuno Bettencourt.
I am also thankful for my brother William (aka “Billy”, among other things). He started late (a few years into living in PA), but he had a personality on the guitar from the start, and that always impressed me and encouraged me to have my own voice and focus on what made me special. We had fun in the JTJKPC days, and he still plays some when he drags out the guitars – he has a bunch of kids and his youngest, Samuel, LOVES music. I think if we lived closer we’d play together a lot more. I’d definitely be trying to teach Sam everything I know so he could get an early start.
I am also thankful for my friend Domonic Woodring – who was part of Porque and is still my pal to this day, always up for a chat about some 80s debauchery and good old rock and roll.
I am thankful for my brother-from-another-mother Caleb P. Rose. His enthusiasm for playing has always been an inspiration to me. Watching him grow as a musician and a tone snob has been fun, and I’ve always been motivated to do more when I see him doing musical stuff. I really wish we lived closer to one another so we could play some music together on a regular basis. I think it’d be fun.
It’d be silly to mention Caleb without mentioning the amazing gentleman Caleb introduced to me – Ryan Kennemur. Singer-songwriter, guitarist, leader of the excellent band “Dragmatic”…and all-around wonderful human. He’s another person I need to live closer to so we can do music stuff. I’m thankful for you.
I am also thankful for all my musical compatriots while in college – my freshman-year roommate Lote Thistlethwaite, dorm-mates Scott Reiter, Gary Vetter, Marco, and Doug Weinberg. Shippensburg buddies Joel Niemann, Mike Leib, Jason Jones, Bill Brown, Mike Circo, Merle Stepler, John Nelson, Josey Bjurström, Jason Hurst, and Ai Blakeslee.
I am very thankful for my former bandmates in Slaphappy – Jon Kretzer, Dennis Miller, Mike Craig, Rob Kisfalusi, and Brent Perry, for being there as I discovered myself as a performer, singer, and bassist. I wouldn’t be where I am without you. And thanks for all the fun times in the non-musical parts. I love you gahz…
I am thankful for the people in the Dial-9 family – Chris Condon, John Palmer, Ron Rodriguez, Chris Burks, Bryan Smith, Larry Schroeder, and TJ Overman. Fun times but way too brief.
Of course I am also thankful for my bandmate pals from other Jacksonville-era projects – Tim Farren, Doug Scott, Joe Fortunato, Jim O’Callaghan, Chris Booras, Nate Dickinson, Mark Frank, Chris Ashton, Steve Snelgrove, Matt Connell, and Emerson Merriewether.
I am eternally thankful for my Roman Holiday pals, especially Ned Cullen and Lee Thompson, but also Rob Wade, Greg Gonyea, Mike Jaramillo, Casey Lewis, and Patrick Burns.
I am very thankful for my other Austin music friends, especially Mandy Prater, Paul Betts, Robin Mordecai, Shawn Abrams (he’s back in Jax now, though weirdly I didn’t know him there), Ed Webb, Bobby Jamerson, David Houston, Heath Allyn, Marc Swearengin, Stuart Bailey, and way too many more to mention individually…
Penultimately, I’m thankful for my brothers in Chandler and The Bings, Patrick Soler, Alon Bernstein, and Jason Smith. You guys are awesome and I can’t wait until we’re able to get out there and start making people sing and dance again.
Lastly, I am thankful for you, for reading my words. I hope you stay safe and healthy this holiday and through next year.
Happy Thanksgiving!
TMS
Museday Mumblings (Vol. 26): Timing and Motivation
I’ve been in a ton of bands over the years, and none of them have been perfect. My current band is about as close as I’ve gotten.
There are varying measures of success when it comes to a band experience. Musical, performance, monetary, vibe, energy, following, critical appreciation, fame. Most people I know that play music are hobbyists with day jobs. I think many are people who “lived the dream” at least for a while, and then it became more important to be comfortable or to be there for the people who needed them than to continue chasing whatever musical dream they had.
I was never one of the people who could be comfortable “chasing the dream”. This is my fundamental obstacle to ever feeling like a “real artist”. I really did try to write good music and songs for a while, but it just got easier to be dad and play covers. That didn’t mean that I didn’t have expectations for the bands I played in.
Ignoring my occasional appearances at local bars in college, the first sort of “pro” band I played in was in Jacksonville in 1998 or so. A guy I knew from my day job at Convergys (yes, call center Hell…but it was steady and I needed steady at the time) had a band with a guy he knew that played guitar, and an assortment of other musicians, including a good keyboardist who was a doctor or something (I’m not sure I remember at this point), a tenor saxophonist, and some other assorted people. The idea with that band was to be a true party band, playing dance and funk songs, along with some poppy classic rock selections.
I had been playing bass sort of on the side of my guitar playing since about 1991-1992, really in earnest from about 1996 on, when I acquired my own bass (I call him “Juan Solo” because he is a black-and-white Mexican-made Fender Jazz Bass that sort of looks like Han Solo’s shirt/vest combo). I didn’t even own a proper bass amp. I used my Peavey PA system as my bass amp to be loud enough. It sounded pretty bad. I didn’t understand how to properly use the technology, and I really didn’t have the extra cash to spend on an amp at that point. The one gig I did play with that band, I borrowed my brother’s Fender M-80 combo, which was fine. But I was a mess as a member of that band. I didn’t really understand how to learn songs on the bass all that well, I couldn’t really read charts (though some were provided to me), and I was still sort of a hack bassist (though I definitely thought I was much better than I actually was – thanks, Dunning-Kruger effect). I did have a solid knowledge of what would work and what wouldn’t, though – I’ve always had good instincts about that. The whole process was kind of terrible, even though ultimately the people were quite nice. They were just very certain they knew things and I could clearly see, even at my intermediate beginner level at that point, that they didn’t have a clue what they didn’t understand about making a band work. At the time, I couldn’t bear to suffer fools or foolishness when it came to music, so I was vocal and probably made things less fun for a lot of people. I quit the band shortly after the first gig I played. I think at the time I just wanted to learn how to be a good, grooving bassist, and I figured the band would be a good way to learn. But I wasn’t ready, they were the wrong people, the material was kind of all over the place and wrong, and the opportunity just didn’t really present itself. So I left. The timing was wrong. Our motivations didn’t match.
Cut to the following year.
A co-worker of mine says he and his buddy want to start a band and they need a bassist and drummer. I didn’t know a drummer, but I was definitely into the concept of playing some bass. So they found a drummer through the Folio Weekly classifieds, we met at a bar, and we all got along so well that before even playing a note we decided we were a band. Thankfully, playing together we had immediate chemistry, so all was well. We picked songs and worked on repertoire from April through July, and all was going well until the singer (my friend from work) had to quit. His day job had gotten too busy and he wasn’t going to be available for gigs. So we found another singer, and thankfully once he knocked off some rust we were ready to go. We named the band, and started to play some shows. It was musically very fun because the drummer and were a machine – I learned so much playing with him. Plus we were playing a lot of songs that people liked that also happened to be songs I really wanted to play. I got to sing a few songs, and sing harmonies on a lot of other ones. We were truly all on the same page and moving it forward. And it was FUN. We’d have our ups and downs, and the singer would eventually leave because of some personal stuff and we’d get a new one who’s still one of my best friends. But it could have been better if everyone had been on the same page at the same time. That was always an issue with that band. Sadly it would end without my consent, though, and though that group definitely had its issues, we’d all do a reunion in 2015 and have a great time together one last time (as Trumpitis has apparently infected the brain and heart of one of the members and he doesn’t want to associate with me anymore because he doesn’t like my sassy liberal opinions).
About a month before that band was “taken” from me, I had auditioned for another band when their main vocalist/guitarist left, and it came down to me and one other guy, and though musically my rehearsal was awesome, great chemistry, they were worried about my involvement in that other band and how much time I’d have, and didn’t really believe in me image-wise compared to the other guy, so they went with him. Five months later half the band decided to leave. I’m not saying the two are related, but I think if they’d been satisfied musically and fed off my live performance energy, it might have been a different situation. The weirdest part, to me, was that when the guys were quitting (bass player and lead guitarist – the ones I auditioned with), I filled in on bass for them for a couple of shows before joining the band as a guitarist after that. So January wasn’t the time, but May was. Timing.
I have to be honest, it wasn’t the way I wanted things to be. The departing guitarist and bassist were two of my favorite local musicians. Sadly it was always a little tough finding ways to get along and properly communicate with the guy they picked in January as we shared guitar and vocal duties, and I know I made the experience suck a little for my dear friend (the drummer and bandleader), and I’ve apologized to him for it. Eventually that guy bailed on us and we had to find a replacement, and right as we figured out the new lineup, I moved to Austin. Timing. (Boo.)
During this period, I also hand-picked a band with my favorite local guys – the drummer who also had the band stolen away from him, and the bassist who had just left the last band I talked about. We found a very talented keyboardist and decided to hit a jam night. It was so much fun, we decided to try and turn it into a band. Instead of having a singular purpose or a set sound, we decided to try and be a “kitchen sink” sort of thing, and play as many different kinds of songs as we could find – stuff no other bands were really playing, but were familiar and popular. We picked individual wishlists of songs, and then tried to be democratic about it, and when it didn’t seem to be going the way of the bassist’s selections, he decided he wasn’t all that into it anymore and left. It broke my heart. I didn’t handle it very well, because I thought his ideas were rightfully being downplayed, as those choices didn’t really fit our abilities and were very medium-to-low energy and not friendly to bar crowds (our goal). We puttered along, got a new (and inferior) bassist, and we all kind of stopped giving a shit, so it just died. The motivation was gone.
When I moved to Austin the following year, I struggled to find people to play with because I simply didn’t know how to go about meeting other musicians in a way that would make them want to play with me. There weren’t really jam nights like the ones that are all over the place in Austin now. So I took to the internet! And in about a month, I found a band that seemed interesting, so I met the guitarist, saw a show, saw how terrible their bassist was they were trying to replace, and had one rehearsal with the band, and apparently made a bad impression – the rest of the band were NOT on board, though the guitarist and I clicked (and are still great friends). So I met some other people who were also interested in replacing their bassist, played with them a few times, but decided that the drive to practice was too far (about an hour each way without traffic) and the karma of getting someone kicked out of the band was too much for me. I did meet one of my favorite people in this band, so that was nice. I stayed friendly with them, though, and would support them at shows.
I finally found a band to join, and it just didn’t really work for me. The vibe was weird at first, because the drummer they had kind of sucked, which frustrated the guitarist to the point of rage at times, and the musical repertoire just wasn’t really up my alley, though it was a refreshing change, at least for a little while, and especially once they lured their drummer back with my presence. And of course, he comes back, and I ended up quitting (we’re still buds to this day, actually…more on him later). My motivation was gone.
I felt really bad to bail, but I really just wasn’t loving the situation in any way – we played in smoky, sort of trashy bars, with low pay that kept it from really being worth the time invested – so when the first (and far inferior, musically) Austin band came back to me to fill in for some shows, and we had more rehearsals and the two who didn’t like me finally “got it”, I was on to the next thing. In June it wasn’t right, but in September, it was good. Timing.
When the drummer quit that band, I had my buddy from the other band (the one who had come back because I was in the band) fill in for the new band. It went pretty well, we had a great hang after, but ultimately we found a different person to play with us more suited to our modern rock-pop-punk sort of style. As that style evolved over the years, we had many drummer changes, and it eventually became a trio, and finally my buddy came in and killed it. We finally were playing together and the band was doing well. At least for a while. Then the crowds sort of thinned, the motivation started to fade, and ultimately, we let the band go. But those guys are still my best friends here in town. I love them and miss them and will give them manly hugs next time I see them when it’s safe.
I have so many more timing and motivation stories, but I think I’ve made my point.
Bands are tough.
Sometimes the timing is right, sometimes not. Sometimes the motivation is there, sometimes it isn’t. Sometimes you luck out and everyone’s available and on the same page and you have a unified mission. That’s been the story for my current band for pretty much the entire time leading up to the pandemic. And thankfully, it seems like we’re all getting back on the same page again, but without an idea of when gigs are coming, it’s hard to maintain momentum and hard to keep that motivation. We did our awesome cover, we’ve done a few little livestream things (and a livestream concert that was less than awesome), and we’ve done a lot of talking without doing a lot of actual things for the past few months. I don’t believe anyone wants it to slip away, but that’s always a danger when you don’t keep at it, so we did a rehearsal the other night, and basically wrote our version of a new song to add, and brought back a classic and one we’d only really done in practice. We’re on our way, once again.
If only we can get this country to stay home if they can (or at the very least physically distance with masks) and stop going around infecting each other and putting people in the hospital, we can get back to adoring crowds singing their lungs out with us at our favorite venues.
But sadly, now is not the time…
(see what I did there?)
Black lives matter. Trump lost. Wear a mask. Wash your hands. Physically distance. Respect facts. Respect expertise. Realize you don’t actually know shit. Be humble, avoid hubris. And love people, for fuck’s sake, instead of always looking for things to hate.
Also: Call your mom and dad and family and friends and do video chats and tell them you love them. They need you, and you need them more than you know.
That’s enough for now. Thank you for your time, and peace be the journey!
I’d like to say it was on purpose, like I felt like there was some more important stuff happening last Tuesday, but the reality is, I simply forgot. I have a civic mind and I was really focused on the election and just wasn’t thinking of things that I wanted to do. Thankfully it’s looking like sanity barely beat fear, so maybe we’ll get a better world. It’d be nice if the 70 million people who thought he was still a better idea would come live in reality where the facts reside and see him for the turdbag conman bigot that he is, but it’s hard to deprogram people from cults. Lost a few friends on Facebook because of an incendiary post, basically saying that they should feel shame about it and supporting him was a “stain on their soul”. Hey, I’m dramatic sometimes. I really didn’t mean it to hurt people’s feelings, though. I just honestly think that you should feel deep shame about a vote for that person, because it shows one of three big flaws about you: 1. You don’t do your due diligence. 2. You are hateful/bigoted or dogmatic in some way. 3. You care more about your party than your country so you only believe what your preferred ideologues say instead of dispassionately accepting the facts. Just my position. Doesn’t detract from my love for anyone who has those flaws, except for the hateful/bigoted part – they can fuck right off forever, as far as I’m concerned – this world doesn’t need them anymore unless they change their hearts.
But enough political garbage. Let’s talk music.
Like how 2020 is shaping up to being worse than 2016 in terms of losing iconic musicians. It already took three of my all-time favorite “beacons of musical light” in Neil Peart, Adam Schlesinger, and Edward Van Halen. And another personal favorite Emitt Rhodes. But adding to the list some truly great artists: Little Richard, Kenny Rogers, Charlie Daniels, Jerry Jeff Walker, Justin Townes Earle, Joe Diffie, Helen Reddy, Mac Davis, Bill Withers, Toots Hibbert, Ronald Bell (Kool & The Gang), Spencer Davis, Tony Lewis (The Outfield), influential guitarist Peter Green, bassist Pete Way, drummers Frankie Banali and Lee Kerslake, and so many more. And producers, too – Keith Olsen, Rupert Hine, Martin Birch…I mean, on top of all this loss, it was a BRUTAL year for music in general. Releases pushed back, tours cancelled, production companies and crew all losing their entire livelihoods. It’s been financially terrible, even for me, and I’m one of the lucky ones who doesn’t subsist on it.
We’ve all found our own ways to scratch the creative itches this year, and I find it kind of sad that my band has only managed one release, though I’m still proud of it. Check it out if you haven’t. I’ve only managed to write one song, which is an improvement over past years, but it only exists because I lost someone important to me. And it’s only okay, to me. Better than nothing.
I think I’ve talked before about how much fun I’ve been having just jamming out on guitar and bass, trying to noodle on old stuff and keep up my chops while we’re not playing. But I’ve even kind of grown tired of that. I meant to do that tonight and instead I spent a few hours playing old recordings of my previous bands and looking at old pictures with my daughter. Which was lovely, but not really productive. AND…
Tonight has been a total abandonment of my commitment to being a little more respectful of my body. I mean, I’d set a bedtime for myself of no later than 10pm, and it’s now 12:53am as I type this. Big fail. But I’m not going to beat myself up or anything. I’m just going to do better tomorrow.
I hope we all have a lovely week, and I hope everyone stays healthy and safe. Coronavirus is NOT done with us, and we need to be more vigilant again. Cases, hospitalizations, and deaths are all on the rise, and our current leadership is doing NOTHING to help us. They’re too busy lying to the American people about the results of an election they lost, and stoking their scared, real-information-starved followers’ fear, which could lead to actual violence and discord. All because they can’t be statesmen and don’t honestly care about people at all. They just need them as tools for their political success. But we’re not going down that road. This isn’t the place or the time.
Take care, wear your mask, wash your hands, be good to people, show love even to the angry 70 million people who voted for the orange conman, and do your best to acknowledge your privilege, whatever it may be. Black lives matter.
Peace be the journey!
TMS
Museday Mumblings (Vol. 24): “Firing on all cylinders”
It’s one of the most challenging aspects of music to master if you aren’t blessed with naturally good meter, and working with groups/teams, it’s also one of the most challenging aspects of keeping everyone on the same page and moving at the same rate.
Right now, we’re having a bit of a timing issue with one of my teams. The majority of us are motivated to keep moving forward, and one of us just isn’t. Our tempos aren’t matching. Our engine has a cylinder with a misfire, and it’s really affecting the efficiency and power of our vehicle. It’s not a malice thing – this teammate still seems to love at least the idea of what we’ve been doing. They’ve just kind of checked out. Part of it is a change in their lifestyle and part of it is not being able to do the main thing our team does, which is the unifying and motivating factor for basically all of us.
This isn’t exclusive to this team member. I’ve been in the same position in the not-too-distant past. I just couldn’t muster the energy or motivation to complete needed tasks and it held everyone back. Part of my problem is that the tasks I needed to complete were similar to tasks required by my day job, and I think at the time the last thing I wanted to do after spending all day at the computer was to spend MORE time there working on things that basically were a purposeful distraction from our usual endeavors, since those were not available to us due to the pandemic.
Now, motivating someone and getting their butt in gear is a tricky proposition, especially since just about everything we’re doing right now doesn’t necessarily support our main activity, so it all seems kind of pointless. But there are team members who want to create endlessly, and those of us who want to support but don’t always have the energy and motivation, and others who are down for whatever but not leading the charge on anything.
I wouldn’t call our situation a crisis, because once we’re doing our thing together again, all will return to what it was, but for right now, it’s really difficult.
I have a friend whose heart isn’t in what he’s doing right now musically, but like me he doesn’t want to disappoint anyone. He’s worried about their needs, but sort of torturing himself as a result because he’s just not having fun. Music isn’t really supposed to feel like work. I’ve found that even in the most “corporate” environments, I can find ways to make it very enjoyable to make music for people – even if we’re just the wallpaper. Music can be like solving problems – finding that perfect spot to put the chord stab or bass accent that propels the groove of that song you’ve played a thousand times. Living in those little moments can act as that spark plug to keep your cylinder firing. Finding ways to have everyone enjoy those little moments when the crowd is giving you nothing is the way to be an amazing band, because once you are getting that positive feedback, you’re just even better. You find those little magical moments, and get people singing and dancing, and then your whole outfit will be firing on all cylinders – a motor that propels everyone through their night. Powerful and fun, and a hell of a ride. I watched some footage from this friend’s current endeavors, and there’s something missing. That fire, the magic that happens when everyone is on the same page, driving toward the same goal, was missing. They were not bad, just missing that magic. Almost too measured, too self-aware at times, and a little too up their own butts (not my friend, mind you…the band as a whole).
I had a situation similar to his a few years back, but I wasn’t as invested personally with my bandmates, so it was much easier for me to quit. But it still was hard because I never want to let people down. In my situation, I was the only one who seemed to want to drive anything forward. The main guy was basically completely burned out. The one guy was going through the motions, doing the bare minimum. The third guy couldn’t even be bothered to remember how the songs went. And there I was, in the “new guy” musical arsehole role, trying to motivate people who were too selfish, too lazy, or too stupid to reach any sort of level above utter mediocrity. The more it dragged on, the less I wanted to do the work, until finally I was just done. It wasn’t worth it monetarily, spiritually, emotionally, or musically. Time to leave. And I did. And it was a very smart move. But it did lead to the end of that band. Which was probably a good thing, since they were long past done. I mean, when you join a band and immediately know their material better than they do? And it’s because they can’t find the motivation to recall it or work it up again? Junk that engine. It’s toast.
I realize my comparisons of teams and bands to actual engines is kind of silly, but people do like the saying “firing on all cylinders”, so I was having a bit of fun. The point is, getting a situation where you’re all comparably motivated, and wanting to move forward together at the same speed is rare and wonderful. And everyone who gets to experience it needs to savor it while it’s happening, because timing does have a way of screwing things up. It can make a band sound weak and uninspired, and it can make a groove fall apart, leaving you sitting at a dive bar watching four old crusty men attempting to be funky on Mustang Sally, playing it too fast and sounding whiter than the sheets they probably wear in secret, laying down a disjointed groove that only the drunkest townie will dance to.
I’m looking forward to giving my team’s engine a tune-up so we’re back firing on all cylinders again soon.
Peace be the journey. Black lives matter! Stay home, stay safe, wash your hands, wear your fucking mask, and physically distance. People are dying because people are getting lazy. We’re not done with this shit, and it’s not done with us, even if that loser some refer to as a President wants to act like it’s over.
This one is about my experiences seeing Van Halen live.
Three was NOT a charm.
Some say I never actually saw Van Halen, because all the shows I saw were with Sammy Hagar. I kind of agree, actually. Van Halen was sort of long in the tooth by the time I was old enough to attend a concert, and they were deep into Sammy territory, so the edge and “show” were sort of gone. But I loved 67% of the shows I saw.
The first time I saw VH was May 1, 1992 at the San Diego Sports Arena. Literally two days into the LAPD/Rodney King riots. I was living in San Diego and my mom drove down with my brothers from Bakersfield. My poor mother – she drove around LA to the east just for safety. They got a hotel and we hung out and acted like idiots, so excited about the show.
So we go to the arena and it was just a mass of people. Sold out show. I think it was the first time we all four brothers ever went and did something like this together (if I recall correctly, Mom just stayed at the hotel – I may be misremembering). We lined up to get in, then we found our seats, which were way up in the back, but with a good, central view, even though we were kind of far away. Baby Animals was the opening act (fronted by Nuno Bettencourt of Extreme’s now-ex-wife Suze) They were unremarkable and to be honest, just not my thing. Not the type of band you’d expect to open for Van Halen. Plus they sounded like shit. Not sure if that was just the headliner crapping on the opener with a bad mix or their sound engineer’s fault in some way. It was kind of a crappy-sounding arena. Most are, actually. Outdoor shows ALWAYS sound better. My brothers and I had a great time, though, despite everything and the climate of Southern California at the time.
I think about seven or eight days later I got drunk for the first time in my life in Tijuana. Seems appropriate.
The second time I saw Van Halen was during the Right Here Right Now tour in July 11, 1993 at Jones Beach Theater in New York. My Aunt Eileen made it happen. We drove up to New York and stayed with our family there. It was SO MUCH FUN. Got a T-shirt. Ate food. It was kind of hot but the sea breeze kept us cool. Vince Neil’s solo band opened the show, and they were better than you would expect. Steve Stevens was his guitarist – and he RULED. Van Halen was ON, too. It was an amazing show. They played “Unchained”, which I don’t think I’d ever heard Sammy do. We all had a truly great time, and I was inspired. This was peak EVH love for me – I had seen my hero, and he had been amazing.
The third and final time I saw Van Halen was during the shitty 2004 reunion tour on my birthday – September 16, 2004 at the Jacksonville Veterans Memorial Arena. I say that to put this in context. Eddie was buried under his addiction on this tour. He was FUCKED UP during this show – probably drunk and completely gacked out on coke. He and Sam were NOT getting along, and you could feel that with their interactions. This was the tour where they made Michael Anthony take a major pay cut just to participate. I already was a little annoyed at Van Halen, but I thought going to see them on my birthday might be a cool experience.
I was wrong.
First, we got into the show kind of late and missed the opening act, local Jax favorites Shinedown. I personally didn’t care all that much, to be honest. They were a butt rock band and I just wasn’t into that stuff. I think we caught the last two songs. They did sound great live. I’ll give them that. Brent Smith is a truly great singer.
Then the “mighty” VH hits the stage. The quotes reveal the irony. Sam came out strutting and he sounded great but looked stupid in a really bright yellow shirt. Alex looked like he was in physical pain behind the drums pretty much the whole show, but was managing. Mikey sounded great as usual – giving his standard excellent performance. Ed was a MESS. Playing songs wrong, missing changes, clams (wrong notes) everywhere. He looked homeless. He had his hair pulled up in a top ponytail and he had on overalls with no shirt. His tone was terrible. He didn’t seem to be meshing with anyone, including his brother, which is insane. Then we get most of the way through the show and hit the guitar solo. And it was EMBARRASSING. His guitar was out of tune the whole solo. He ham-handed his way through all his signature stuff like a drunk at Guitar Center, and let the guitar feed back like he was trying to punish us rather than do something cool. The set list was good, most of the crowd liked it (they did two encores) but the show was very upsetting for me.
I didn’t buy any merch. I walked away so disappointed. And kind of bored. And Van Halen had never really bored me, other than the 1998 album they made with Gary Cherone (Van Halen III) . I was sad about the shell they’d become. And annoyed that the show tickets cost as much as the first two combined. I was kind of done.
A few years later they announced the reunion with David Lee Roth, and when they announced that Eddie’s son Wolfgang Van Halen would be replacing Mike on the tour, there was no way I would go. He turned out to be a quick study and is a good musician, so he wasn’t a bad choice, but I just couldn’t support it. I do look forward to hearing Wolf’s music once it comes out (release was delayed by the pandemic). But what they did here was the last straw. All evidence points to Michael Anthony being a good human and the sweetest person, and the Van Halen brothers screwed him over every chance they had. Mike found out about the tour through the media. No one called him. No one bothered. The nice guy finished last because the insecure egomaniac bullies needed to have their way.
So I never did go see them again. I tried to get free tickets for the 2015 tour through my radio contacts, simply because I wanted to see them one more time because I figured this would be it (and sadly, I was right). It didn’t happen. And I’m pretty okay with it. the 1992 and 1993 shows were fantastic. Those are the memories of Van Halen live that I will hold forever.
A little side story – in 1984 when I was living in Fremont, California, my best friend Joel’s big brother went to the Van Halen concert at the Cow Palace and I happened to be sleeping over that night, so I was awake when he came home – it was the first time I’d seen anyone partied out. He was so happy, though. I remember he had this awesome headband that I still think about to this day (the middle one).
Take care, all! Thanks for coming on this little journey.
Rest in peace, Ed. Rest in peace, Van Halen. Thanks for all the great music.
Wash your hands. Physically distance. Call your friends. Vote for sanity and respect. Black lives matter.
