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 in light of the band’s unwavering passion for the music, even while besieged by a series of pitfalls that threatened 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, no semblance of a musical background, in fact not a shred 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 at all, but rather a mock-umentary, directed by the guy who played meathead on that incredibly 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, to the point where I’d even come to the stark realization that I’d likely have to work in a music store the rest of my life.
And even 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, 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.