After I dropped out of Berklee College of Music in '88 I joined a band, not a good band mind you, but a rather typical all over the map 80's original band called Wise Guise (yup, it's logo was a mask) that had sounds ranging from U2, the Cure to whoever that guy who wrote My Sharona. The drummer was none other than a very young Greg Saunier who you may have heard of, he went on to form Deerhoof and is still tearing up those drums in such a joyous manner. I knew him in high school and re-connected with him somehow to join this group. He had been playing drums for about a year at this point and well, he made the band really. He was that good, even then. Trouble was he was heading off to college in a couple months. When he left I went into denial about how good he actually was. No, actually I went into mourning! I git stuck in the denial part. We went through a couple drummers afterwards, some who had no volume, couldn't play, and some who had tremendous volume but the wrong vibe.
I left that band after putting myself through some real pain. Oh why did I stay in the first place? The leader was encouraging me to step up to better music but I for some reason beat that dead horse to a pulp.
When I did leave I started a new band with this drummer named Amir. We couldn't have been more opposite but I just wanted to start a band where I could write songs. Amir had this kinda yuppie thing going on. He dressed the preppy dress and went to a fine school. He was spoiled, self centered, handsome and the ladies liked him. He was loud drummer who loved to talk about his Sonor kit. It was black and shiny. He was also my first experience with an alcoholic musician. That is a problem in music. I'm writing about this cause years later I can forgive him, accept my part in a dysfunctional musical relationship and I can kinda see where it came from. Neither of us were adults at this point so I spent a good deal of time in his home.
Here's the denial part. He could not play drums. Frankly, he was the worst drummer I have ever worked with. Yet, when we recorded and listened back to the individual tracks I would listen to the kick drum and hear bump de bump bump dedede bump de bumpbump bump and I remember saying to myself: "Oh I've never heard an isolated kick before, maybe that's the way it's supposed to sound?" No time. No 2 measures in the same tempo. He liked to bash the cymbals so you couldn't hear the rest of his kit, which was out of tune and way too bright. I almost strangled him when he bought a piccolo snare. No tone, no time. When I get with a bad rhythm section I start to feel doubt about my own abilities. I start to wonder if I can play at all. My father used to tell me he couldn't hear anything but those horrible cymbals on a gig, no guitar, no bass, no vocals, just cymbals and an occasional crack of that horrible snare drum. His father once said to my father at a gig: "Amir will never be successful in music, he has no talent."....... I can't imagine being a father saying such a thing.
Once in a while though, he surprised me. In rare moments of vulnerability he could come up with an interesting rhythm, something that didn't sound like anything else. He would kill it soon enough the same way most of us do: compare it to something successful then shape it into an awful boring John Bonham style or Stewart Copeland. I would always encourage him to be inventive and try to write around those interesting moments. A few good little gems did emerge. And like any dysfunctional relationship, these little moments kept me interested in sticking around. I've been told this by women I've dated in the past: they could see something I wasn't yet willing to see, something really good. I could see that in Amir.
The other side of dysfunction: I had a mind then to play with inferior musicians, this way I could shape them to my needs. Oof. That feels horrible to write that but it was true. Underlying that really is this: I was afraid of getting rejected by better players, so I played it safe and tried to control what I thought I could, which hindsight being 20/20, was pretty unkind of me. Not to mention, impossible!
Amir was alcoholic. I had a crappy '79 Ford Fairmont station wagon that we hauled our gear around in. He had this little crappy Isuzu that he called "IshitZu" that he could haul his drums around in. He wrecked that. Next bought a beautiful red early 70's BMW 2002. Could't haul anything in that car but one of his many girls. Resentment started right here. No consideration for his other bandmates, just a car to attract girls. Didn't matter. He got drunk and totaled that one too. All the while I started the cycle of worry if he will live or die and the denial of his true problem and the belief that I can do anything about it. So.....he bought a BMW Bavaria. This one had 4 doors. His kick drum couldn't fit in the back seat. I was furious. But......he got drunk and killed that beautiful car too. Lied about the scene to me and I blew up at him once I uncovered the lie. At this point we lived in a total college type house in Baltimore off of Charles Street. Amir had a different lady in his bed every week. Once in a while an upset lady would come to me asking me questions about him and furious about how she was treated. A couple of them even made moves on me saying "you seem so nice yadda yadda." I never went that way. I knew after my close call with a rooftop I needed to grow up a bit before I could date or sleep with anyone. I was on a 2 year hiatus from that scene and my bandmates and their friends actually thought I was gay which to me doesn't matter but to them was a subject of gossip.
Eventually the lady who I almost ended my existence over showed up again. Amir and my Singer both fell for her. I'll spare the story. I just sat back and watched the end of that band. She dated Amir first, they got a place together, she left and dated our singer. She dated, they hated. It was ugly. I wanted that band to end anyway so I figured why not let it go out in style. Truthfully, it was kinda funny. Both of them came crying to me as their lives were falling to pieces asking me about her. I had been telling them about her for 2 years at that point "here's what happened and that's why I choose not to date right now", yet when she showed up to a gig, they ignored all that.
So Amir and I went our separate ways. I think he went to college to become a banker or something his father wanted him to do. NYC.
Then I got the news. He was drinking and didn't have his keys to his apartment. So he tried to climb in through the fire escape. He fell. He died. He couldn't have been more than 23 or 24 years old at that point.
Why am I writing this? I do think about him from time to time. A lot of what ifs come to mind. What if he had been treated with the love and support he needed? The bits of time I spent in his home I only saw criticism and I felt no warmth. Maybe with all those ladies he was really looking for that warmth. Would he have been a better drummer if he was loved unconditionally? No doubt in my mind that he would have been. There were glimpses of something really lovely and wanting to get out there. I could see that at such a young age. What if he hadn't died and transcended all the pain he was in? Would he still be playing? Would he be playing without all that comparison poison? Would he be playing no longer to prove something? Would he be playing just cause he can? What would he be like as a grownup? I certainly was not perfect then either and still am not, but I am better. I love running into those folks I may have had bitterness with and seeing that we crossed through some bad stuff to get to another place. I love letting that past go and saying "man, you inspire me today, just as a part of you did yesterday". I wonder if Amir would be one of those people. If we could talk about those days and say to each other: "sorry I was such a mess in those days, how are you today?"
What did I learn from all of this? Funny, this was all 25 years ago!
If you are playing with something to prove you will not make good music. If you are playing with people that have something to prove you will be dragged down to a dishonest place, you will not make good music. It's something I think most of us have to pass through and that's okay so long as we pass through it. I could see that with my friend and I at that time. We were both playing out of a painful place, doing our best. The playing was kinda desperate. Maybe that's all that needs to be said about that band. Maybe that's how we found each other. Playing to seek approval and to tell our tormentors to fuck off. Cool...that's been expressed. Let it go.
Right around the time the band was dissolving, I got head hunted by another group. The drummer was none other than my lifelong friend Barry Hampton (RIP) and he was fantastic. I also got to play with Cleveland Johnson who is terrific too. I guess I learned to never sell myself short. When a situation isn't working move on. It's beyond the music when I'm in a band thinking I can fix another person. In fact, that has nothing to really do with music, and everything to do with being sick yourself. And life is too short for that. Bands are tricky. Really tricky. They are a complex relationship. If you choose to make music your life, choose the people you want to work with wisely. Have a vision. And if it's not working, move on and change what you can change, which is only yourself. That was 2 years of my life I chose to work on someone else's problems. That wasn't very nice to him and certainly wasn't very nice to me. And as a musician, work with those that challenge and inspire you. Leave the drama for those who get high on drama. Music is really a powerful medium. Handle it with care. Of course, Amir and I weren't the last dysfunctional musical dance I've been in, and that is okay. It's better now and keeps getting better. And that's all that matters.
J
I left that band after putting myself through some real pain. Oh why did I stay in the first place? The leader was encouraging me to step up to better music but I for some reason beat that dead horse to a pulp.
When I did leave I started a new band with this drummer named Amir. We couldn't have been more opposite but I just wanted to start a band where I could write songs. Amir had this kinda yuppie thing going on. He dressed the preppy dress and went to a fine school. He was spoiled, self centered, handsome and the ladies liked him. He was loud drummer who loved to talk about his Sonor kit. It was black and shiny. He was also my first experience with an alcoholic musician. That is a problem in music. I'm writing about this cause years later I can forgive him, accept my part in a dysfunctional musical relationship and I can kinda see where it came from. Neither of us were adults at this point so I spent a good deal of time in his home.
Here's the denial part. He could not play drums. Frankly, he was the worst drummer I have ever worked with. Yet, when we recorded and listened back to the individual tracks I would listen to the kick drum and hear bump de bump bump dedede bump de bumpbump bump and I remember saying to myself: "Oh I've never heard an isolated kick before, maybe that's the way it's supposed to sound?" No time. No 2 measures in the same tempo. He liked to bash the cymbals so you couldn't hear the rest of his kit, which was out of tune and way too bright. I almost strangled him when he bought a piccolo snare. No tone, no time. When I get with a bad rhythm section I start to feel doubt about my own abilities. I start to wonder if I can play at all. My father used to tell me he couldn't hear anything but those horrible cymbals on a gig, no guitar, no bass, no vocals, just cymbals and an occasional crack of that horrible snare drum. His father once said to my father at a gig: "Amir will never be successful in music, he has no talent."....... I can't imagine being a father saying such a thing.
Once in a while though, he surprised me. In rare moments of vulnerability he could come up with an interesting rhythm, something that didn't sound like anything else. He would kill it soon enough the same way most of us do: compare it to something successful then shape it into an awful boring John Bonham style or Stewart Copeland. I would always encourage him to be inventive and try to write around those interesting moments. A few good little gems did emerge. And like any dysfunctional relationship, these little moments kept me interested in sticking around. I've been told this by women I've dated in the past: they could see something I wasn't yet willing to see, something really good. I could see that in Amir.
The other side of dysfunction: I had a mind then to play with inferior musicians, this way I could shape them to my needs. Oof. That feels horrible to write that but it was true. Underlying that really is this: I was afraid of getting rejected by better players, so I played it safe and tried to control what I thought I could, which hindsight being 20/20, was pretty unkind of me. Not to mention, impossible!
Amir was alcoholic. I had a crappy '79 Ford Fairmont station wagon that we hauled our gear around in. He had this little crappy Isuzu that he called "IshitZu" that he could haul his drums around in. He wrecked that. Next bought a beautiful red early 70's BMW 2002. Could't haul anything in that car but one of his many girls. Resentment started right here. No consideration for his other bandmates, just a car to attract girls. Didn't matter. He got drunk and totaled that one too. All the while I started the cycle of worry if he will live or die and the denial of his true problem and the belief that I can do anything about it. So.....he bought a BMW Bavaria. This one had 4 doors. His kick drum couldn't fit in the back seat. I was furious. But......he got drunk and killed that beautiful car too. Lied about the scene to me and I blew up at him once I uncovered the lie. At this point we lived in a total college type house in Baltimore off of Charles Street. Amir had a different lady in his bed every week. Once in a while an upset lady would come to me asking me questions about him and furious about how she was treated. A couple of them even made moves on me saying "you seem so nice yadda yadda." I never went that way. I knew after my close call with a rooftop I needed to grow up a bit before I could date or sleep with anyone. I was on a 2 year hiatus from that scene and my bandmates and their friends actually thought I was gay which to me doesn't matter but to them was a subject of gossip.
Eventually the lady who I almost ended my existence over showed up again. Amir and my Singer both fell for her. I'll spare the story. I just sat back and watched the end of that band. She dated Amir first, they got a place together, she left and dated our singer. She dated, they hated. It was ugly. I wanted that band to end anyway so I figured why not let it go out in style. Truthfully, it was kinda funny. Both of them came crying to me as their lives were falling to pieces asking me about her. I had been telling them about her for 2 years at that point "here's what happened and that's why I choose not to date right now", yet when she showed up to a gig, they ignored all that.
So Amir and I went our separate ways. I think he went to college to become a banker or something his father wanted him to do. NYC.
Then I got the news. He was drinking and didn't have his keys to his apartment. So he tried to climb in through the fire escape. He fell. He died. He couldn't have been more than 23 or 24 years old at that point.
Why am I writing this? I do think about him from time to time. A lot of what ifs come to mind. What if he had been treated with the love and support he needed? The bits of time I spent in his home I only saw criticism and I felt no warmth. Maybe with all those ladies he was really looking for that warmth. Would he have been a better drummer if he was loved unconditionally? No doubt in my mind that he would have been. There were glimpses of something really lovely and wanting to get out there. I could see that at such a young age. What if he hadn't died and transcended all the pain he was in? Would he still be playing? Would he be playing without all that comparison poison? Would he be playing no longer to prove something? Would he be playing just cause he can? What would he be like as a grownup? I certainly was not perfect then either and still am not, but I am better. I love running into those folks I may have had bitterness with and seeing that we crossed through some bad stuff to get to another place. I love letting that past go and saying "man, you inspire me today, just as a part of you did yesterday". I wonder if Amir would be one of those people. If we could talk about those days and say to each other: "sorry I was such a mess in those days, how are you today?"
What did I learn from all of this? Funny, this was all 25 years ago!
If you are playing with something to prove you will not make good music. If you are playing with people that have something to prove you will be dragged down to a dishonest place, you will not make good music. It's something I think most of us have to pass through and that's okay so long as we pass through it. I could see that with my friend and I at that time. We were both playing out of a painful place, doing our best. The playing was kinda desperate. Maybe that's all that needs to be said about that band. Maybe that's how we found each other. Playing to seek approval and to tell our tormentors to fuck off. Cool...that's been expressed. Let it go.
Right around the time the band was dissolving, I got head hunted by another group. The drummer was none other than my lifelong friend Barry Hampton (RIP) and he was fantastic. I also got to play with Cleveland Johnson who is terrific too. I guess I learned to never sell myself short. When a situation isn't working move on. It's beyond the music when I'm in a band thinking I can fix another person. In fact, that has nothing to really do with music, and everything to do with being sick yourself. And life is too short for that. Bands are tricky. Really tricky. They are a complex relationship. If you choose to make music your life, choose the people you want to work with wisely. Have a vision. And if it's not working, move on and change what you can change, which is only yourself. That was 2 years of my life I chose to work on someone else's problems. That wasn't very nice to him and certainly wasn't very nice to me. And as a musician, work with those that challenge and inspire you. Leave the drama for those who get high on drama. Music is really a powerful medium. Handle it with care. Of course, Amir and I weren't the last dysfunctional musical dance I've been in, and that is okay. It's better now and keeps getting better. And that's all that matters.
J
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