As a plucky drifter in the late 1970s, the future seemed eerily uncertain for this impestuous free spirit. Brimming with wide-eyed optimism but no viable career path or conceivable prospects of any kind, a life-altering moment happened while viewing the iconic rock documentary This Is Spinal Tap. The compelling behind-the-scenes examination of a ragtag group of modestly skilled musicians was indeed inspiring, especially the band’s unwavering passion for the music even as a series of pitfalls threatens the very survival of their artistic vision. The visceral impact of that impassioned perseverance spoke to me, and it was then that I decided making music was something I had to do, against all odds … which in my case was a complete lack of musical training, or any semblance of musical ability whatsoever … leaving me no choice but to become a Drummer.
It wasn’t until years later that I discovered Spinal Tap wasn’t a real documentary after all, but rather a mock-umentary, directed by the guy who played meathead on that racist sitcom All In The Family, and those weren’t really musicians chasing their dream … but no matter. By that time my destiny was firmly set into motion, even coming to the stark realization that I’d likely have to work in a music store the rest of my life.
And now, decades later, as I find myself retreating into the mind-numbing mediocrity of endless open-mics and weekend blues-jams, with the pale resignation of an aging dreamer now sporting a skullet and joining yet another cover band that insists on playing Brown Eyed Girl because “it’s a great song and people love it”, one thing still remains true, enduring and resolute …
It’s all about the music, man.