When it comes to being in a band, I have no idea how to give anything less than 100%. I have been in a band nearly every day of my life since 1989. The longest gap between bands was seven months. That’s not me tooting my own horn, by the way. It is what it is. That’s 26 years. And that’s well over half of my life. Over the span of roughly nine thousand four hundred and ninety days, my dedication has not wavered. I wrote long ago that my favorite thing in life is LOVE…and the thing I love more than anything else, is playing drums. At the risk of sounding cliché this statement describes me in the most basic sense: I drum, therefore I am.
Finding partners in the musical journey that is my life has never been difficult for me. I’m basically like a Labrador Retriever that’s always interested in fetching the ball. Anybody…just throw it! And yes, I’m perfectly aware that I just compared myself to a dog. I’m loyal, enthusiastic, and friendly. I love to play, I love to eat, I love to sleep and you should never, ever piss me off. So anyway, that’s given me the opportunity to play fetch….errrr……music with a lot of different people with amazing skills that reflect their unique backgrounds. What an incredible setting for musicians to grow, improve and evolve.
As long as I’ve done this, I always forget how painful the endings are. Mine have run the gamut from venomous to absolutely mutual but they all hurt the same and somehow the pain lingers even though I’m still on speaking terms with all but three past band members. It’s puzzling. Another thing I often forget is how magical new beginnings can be. It’s a lot like starting a new romantic relationship…only three times more difficult to maintain. That first meeting can’t even be called a rehearsal, because no one really knows what the fuck they’re doing or how it’s supposed to mesh together. It’s a jam session that resembles two people attempting to have sex in a phone booth. Try this. Do that. Does this work? How does that feel? Do you like it when I do this? How about when I do that? Should I stop? Is that your hand? I think there’s a midget watching us.
Ah, but once you get past that awkwardness you sometimes fall into a magical place. As an organic group, original songs start to take shape. Some are effortless. Some are arduous. All feel like being on a hike and stumbling into a secret cave filled with treasure.
Twice a week the four of us get together to mine for gold deep inside our secret cave. We can’t wait to emerge and share our treasures with all of you...but nobody gets the map.