So, yesterday afternoon, I played at the Bonanza Mexican Cantina in Virginia City, it was for the St. Patty's Day/Rocky Mountain Oyster Festival that they hold every year.  The place was packed when I got there, around 2pm.  There was a band playing, "Whiskey Low", kinda Classic Rock & Roll.  Ok, I don't have time to water this down so I'll just call it as I see it.  They were not very good, just mediocre.  I played after them, starting at 3, going till 7.  Then after me, another kinda Classic Rock & Roll band - same, very mediocre.  I got there about an hour before starting time, so I heard the band for that hour.  For the most part it was ho hum, a few people clapped and whistled, but for the most part, most people were just doing their own thing.  They get done, I start playing.  First song was Amarillo By Morning, making sure to not try to follow the loud Rock & Roll with more loud.  By about the third song, people were singing along, hootin' and hollerin', a few were dancing, the energy level had gone up a few notches.  So, for the four hours I played, it was a fun time, again, people singing along, hootin' and hollerin', a few dancing.  The highlight, of course is when I bring out the fiddle, the folks don't hesitate to let everybody know how much they enjoy hearing a decent, hoedown sounding fiddle.  The band scheduled after me came on, and just as with the first band, most people went back to doing their own thing, with the small handful clapping after some of the songs - energy level back down to almost zero. The reason I bring this up is, for the most part, management, ownership, booking agents - they either don't notice it, or they intentionally ignore it.  I always saw it as part of my job to set the tone in a place.  There are times when there are just a few people in, at which time I stay on the acoustic, sing laid back songs - same goes for when most people in the place are eating, I keep it down.  When it's a bar thing, where people are ready to cut loose, I start with the upbeat songs, plug in my tracks (hopefully you read my entry where I explained the whole backing track thing that I do).  By the way, today when the owner was paying me, he says, in his full Mexican accent, "Everybody like(s) you".  It is nice when an owner appreciates what I do, and is not afraid to tell me.  The two female bartenders, who seem to have somewhat of a problem with me (because of gossip), I know they hear the compliments from the people, but they have never once relayed any of it to me.  It's not that I feel insulted by it, but I notice it, and I'm aware of what's behind it.  Anyway, while this particular owner had told me many times how much he appreciates what I do for him, for the most part, as I said, managers and owners never show any kind of appreciation for what I do for them. 

   To add to the point I'm making here, I'm going to rewind back to the days at Pecos River Cafe - the Country dance hall I played in from 84 -88.I was the house band, played four nights a week, and they would have various other bands on the other three nights.  On our nights, it was party time, hootin', hollerin', dancing, singing along, the energy level through the roof.  The age group was 21 - 30 year olds for the most part, so they had the energy for all of it.  Well, on occasion, I would stop in after playing another place, get done in time to stop in at Pecos before I head home.  It was mostly Warren Johnson And The Gator Creek Band - and it was usually a Saturday night that I would stop in.  The place was like a funeral parlor, people sitting at their tables looking like they just lost their last friend.  While we had people lining up all the way down the stairs into the parking lot to get in on our nights, on those nights I stopped in, there were empty tables from about halfway to the back of the room.  The dance floor would have a few people, but mostly people were just sitting.  I also did stop by on a Saturday night when Nick Masters' band was playing.  On this particular night, after he had been there a month or so, there was not ONE customer.  It was the bartender, one waitress, and the doorman.  The good thing that happened back then was that the people were not afraid to tell management when the band, the music, was bad, and they would not go in.  This wasn't just at Pecos, this was any venue that had live music.  It would be so great for that to be the case today, but sadly, it's not.  People seem to go to a restaurant/bar, regardless of what is in there.  They may just sit, but they're still in there.  

   I also remember a couple of young guys, one of whom had played with me in my very first band at Pecos when it was at its original location - in the Aiea Shopping Center; it was not a good time.  He had left to go to California, then came back to Hawaii with a friend - a keyboard player from California.  They were both around 22, 23 years old, cocky, arrogant, self righteous - oh, and very mediocre.  It happened that my steel player at the time was going on vacation, so I hired them (after they kept after me) to play in my band for two weeks.  Boy, what a disaster that was.  They were both SO angry that Pecos had such a party atmosphere.  The couple of times we'd had conversations about it, their tone was full of resentment, even outright hatred - for the fact that I was the one setting the tone.  A couple of times, the keyboad guy - Tim - would come out with, "YEAH, THAT'S JUST PECOS".  My guess is they could never have that kind of atmosphere in places they played.  They would regularly throw this fiddle player - Tigar Bell - in my face.  Being that I played fiddle, they were bound and determined to make sure they established his superior fiddle playing over mine.  I've never had a problem with players who were better than me, but apparently, they did, and Tigar Bell wasn't the only one they felt the need to keep slinging at me every chance they got.

   So, here I am, at almost 70 years old, still being able to get people having a good time wherever I play.  I'm not saying "I'm packing 'em in", because unless there's a special event, no place I've played in the past 20 years or so has been packed, but the ones who are in these places - they have a good time, and some are not afraid to let me, AND the management know it.  My tip bucket also speaks for itself.  It's a bit sad that so many venue owners and managers have such fragile egos, and who take part in all the isms - nepotism, buddyism, druggyism, homeboyism, not to mention their silly prejudices and fragile egos.  I've been in Reno for about eight months now, and it's still a struggle to get into most of the music venues here - as it has been everywhere I've been in the past 30 years or so.  Lucky for me, there are 3 or 4 places so far where the owners and/or managers care about their customers, their till, their business, so especially during the summer, I have a full schedule, and I'm appreciated in the places I play.

   Anyway, my main point was that I'm not sure if most people see the difference between when I play, and when other solos or bands play.  I guess it's a little annoying that most of them don't - at least they don't show it if they do.

   This Thursday I start in a new place - a tiki bar called "Pele Utu".  We'll see how that goes. 

 #Blog #MusicVideo #WorldMusic #HawaiianMusic #LiveMusic #ukulele #Hawaii 

Video:

Wahine Ilikea
 

I Can't Have Come This Far For Nothing

   Last week, I visited with a venue owner.  It's a Hawaiian themed place, a Tiki Bar.  It's somewhat small, seats 30, maybe 40 people.  The owner seemed nice enough, didn't jerk me around the way so many of them do.

   The first thing that came to mind was that I would brush up on my Slack Key.  The second thought, was, "Nobody does that, what musician in the world prepares for what they're about to do?"  That's a rhetorical, and the silent answer it, "Nobody".  Nobody gives a crap about what they do, the only thing in their mind is, "Everybody better tell me how wonderful I am", and, the paycheck; oh, and probably the free booze.

   I've prepared more times than I can count, when booking something that was different from what I had been doing.  When I was getting ready to play at the Gunbarrel Tavern in Lake Tahoe, I not only pulled out my classical guitar, and played for hours and hours, but I put out hundreds of dollars to by two electric/acoustics.  One steel string, and one Classical.  I had been doing mostly Country before that, and I was used to it.  I had also been using my tracks, so I had been playing my Telecaster (Electric Guitar), for the past 20 years.  Before that, I hadn't played much acoustic at any point in my 30 some years that I'd been playing at that time.  So, it was completely new to me.  As it turned out, I loved it, and I play acoustic a lot of the time at the places I've been playing over the past three years - that's after five years at Gunbarrel.

   In my 45 years of doing this professionally, I've been in many different types of playing situations.  The first ten years was nothing but Country dance halls.  I had learned Country Music from some old timers, they taught me the essence of it, the soul of it, the tradition of it, ettiquette, Sears And Roebuck intros, "Standards", and more; and it all stuck with me.  I've always looked to learn new things, about playing, about being on a stage, about certain songs, about certain artists and bands.  I even learn from the dumbest of the dumb.  I don't play lead guitar the same today as I did a year ago, two years ago, five years ago, ten years ago, and so on.  I'm not stuck doing one thing, one scale.  In fact, I promised me early on that I would never approach the guitar in terms of scales, and I've kept that promise.  I do lots of different things, I like to play in different styles.  I like simple.  Simple does not mean easy - "Simple" and "Easy" are two completely different things.  I find so much inside of simplicity, and I have never been bored with my playing.  This goes for all the instruments I play.  And, I don't cross train.  I approach each instrument for what it is, and I love what each instrument does as itself.

   Another area of music that I've come a long way is in recording.  I was a nuisance when I was in studios back in the 80s and 90s.  I asked stuff, I tried stuff - some of what I tried ended up horrid, other stuff was ok.  By the late 80s I'd bought my first digital machine.  It was a Roland VS-880, an 8 track digital stand alone recording deck.  It took me a couple of weeks before I could even record my first note.  I'd actually wanted a tape based system, but nobody carried them.  I had a horrible sounding tube microphone.  I'm not sure of the brand, but I think Groove Tubes had a hand in it, it had "Groove Tubes" on one side of the mic, and I can't remember the brand on the other side.  I paid about $600 for it.  Well, I'd taken it to Peru with me, while I lived there for 3-1/2 years, and on the way back, one of the baggage people stole the mic out of my suitcase, so that was the end of that.  I ended up buying an Audio Technica 4031, which was a thousand times better than the Groove Tube one.  After using my VS-880 for a few years, I went to a Roland VS1880 - 16 tracks now.  I did hundreds of recordings between the two over the years.  Mostly making backing tracks for myself - to use in my live shows.  I also did nine CDs, some of my own originals, some of other writers' songs, and one CD of songs recorded by famous artists and bands.  I started to add the full band sound in part of my live shows - where I could play my lead guitar parts, fiddle, lap steel, harmonica, and ukulele.  Soon after, it was computer based recording.  I stumbled across a program called "Adobe Audition", which I've been using for maybe 20 years.  Hundreds more recordings.  When making backing tracks, I play all real instruments, one at a time, of course.  I had to learn how to mic each of them - and they're all different.  I do use a drum machine - especially on the older recordings, only because I didn't have room in my RV for a whole acoustic set with mic stands and the whole works.  I programmed the machine to play the way I play.  There are old live recordings of me playing drums, if you listen, you can hear that.  Over the past couple of years, when I make backing tracks, I add the lead parts - guitar, pedal steel, fiddle, ukulele, lap steel, harmonica, and I make videos out of them.  I now have about 120 music videos at my YouTube channel.

   So, being that I don't have time to water this down, I'll just say what needs to be said.  I promise you, my ego is not part of any of this - never has been.  You're welcome to go to my YouTube channel and listen for yourself, and I almost always include a video with my blog entries.  Of the 350+ songs that I do, of the 120 or so videos, playing all the instruments, I have to make the songs sound as much like the originals as possible.  I don't believe in changing them just for the sake of changing them.  The songs, the videos come out very professional, clean, present, recorded and mixed very well.  And, I have to play all those instruments in a way that will compare with the original guys who played them.  I guess most people don't notice any of this, mostly because I don't have the million dollar a year hype that the "Major" artists and bands do.  And please, listen for yourself, even compare the original recordings to mine, and PLEASE, use a good pair of headphones, good speakers, even a decent pair of earbuds - where you can actually hear the recording quality, the mix, and all the instruments.  Be honest, listen with your own ears.  Keep in mind, I didn't learn how to play all those instruments, and didn't learn how to record at a professional level overnight, it took years of trial and error, years of practice on the instruments.  Also keep in mind I'm not stuck doing only one kind of music.  There's traditional Country, Classic Light Rock, 60s and 70s Folk, and authentic traditional Hawaiian music - including traditional sounding lap steel, ukulele, and real Slack Key Guitar.  Just the other night, I laid down all the basic tracks for 4 Slack Key instrumentals.  I'll get to the Slack Key parts maybe early next week, along with the lap steel, and possibly ukulele - to make videos.  As for Slack Key, there are not many people in the world who can do that anymore.  All the greats have passed, and there may be a small handful who are dabbling in it, but I guess it's not as cool as all that "Reggae" stuff they've been doing over the past 45 years or so, so nobody cares to do it.  On Country and some of the other stuff, you might pay attention to the bass, the drums, and the rhythm guitars.  Notice that the bass isn't all over the place - as so many players do - thinking they're doing something.  Sure, I could do all that monotonous, walking in and out of every chord change, and into chord I'm already in, it doesn't take super talent to do that, in fact, what it does take is a frustrated lead guitar player who is bored with keeping the bottom end solid.  Take note that on the drum parts, I'm not banging all over the toms and the cymbals, I'm much more concerned with locking into that sweet spot, keeping the beat, and not cluttering up the song.  Same goes for the lead instruments - I leave plenty of space for the songs to breathe, and I hate clutter.  Oh, and I'm never there to wow the audience.  Take note of the finesse of the acoustic rhythm guitar parts - no banging, so pseudo jazz chords, no mindless jumping around, just a good solid backdrop.  As for the vocals, it comes to mind what one of the waitresses at Gunbarrel said to me a couple of times, "You're the only guy who doesn't sound like he's playing the same song all night".  Then, I guess what happens when I sing is that I kind of instinctively try to capture the essence of the song, and of the original artist - without mimicking, without any fake southern accent - as most or all of the modern "Country" acts are doing.

   One last thought.  Earlier tonight I went to a club - huge - 3 or 4 different rooms.  While talking to the manager, he at one point said, "We're cutting back on bringing in bands, because, well, they're all the same, people lose interest, the DJs seem to be more enjoyable, so we're doing bands only about once every three or four weeks".  Ok, so here's my commentary on that.  I've heard the bands in this town - they're the same as in every other town - they're horrible.  They play the same "Funk" beat that they all seem to think is so ultra cool.  The guitar players do one thing (One scale) on every song, over every chord production.  The bass player and drummer are busy and monotonous - and their drums either sound like cardboard boxes, or plastic buckets.  The singers are either croaking or screaming.  They sound like four or five people all in different rooms, playing four or five different songs all at the same time.  Oh, and the girl singers - either sounding like a bzillion other girl singers, or like cheap imitations of Janis Joplin.  A person close to me described these bar bands as sounding "Like a washing machine".  So, I don't blame these managers and owners if they don't want live music in their place, or if they're cutting back on it.  Why pay a band $800 or $1000 to bore the customers out of their skull?

   So, have I learned to do all this stuff for nothing?  Have I come all this way to be fighting with shitty musicians, and ego driven venue managers and owners, just to work?  On "Ego driven managers", I have been locked out of more venues that I can begin to count, because the owner or manager got their feeling hurt because in their fragile little minds, I "Showed up their homeboys", or, because they were frustrated musicians who could never connect with their listeners.  That's not my statement, that's theirs.  I never go up onto a stage to show up anybody, or for them to tell me how wonderful I am, I go up there to give people something

  And here I still am, playing footsie with managers and owners just to work, and it gets really sickening and tiring, and disgusting.  I do well in places where the management cares about their customers, and about their till.  The ego driven guys - I've never been able to get near those places.  I guess I wouldn't want it any other way - being that if I can't get hired on my merit, then I wouldn't want to work for such people anyway.

   All for now. 

 

#Blogs #Corruption #MusicVideo #LiveMusic #Nashville #ClassicCountry #CountryMusic 

                                                        Shenandoah

Jim Mitchell, Booking Agent, Crook Extraordinaire

 

It's 1982, my wife at the time, Lynda, me, and our newborn son, Clint, move to Hawaii.  I've given Lynda bass lessons for a month while we were still in San Diego.  We spent four hours a day, five days a week, drilling her.  To her credit, she wasn't lazy about it, she put in the time, she did the work.

So, we're setting out to put a band together.  The first venue we come across was Pecos River Cafe, in its original location at the Pearl City Shopping Center.  We're of course, doing what we can to find competent players, and at first, well, not so much with the competent players.  We had Pumpkin Don on drums, horrible, and with the need to be in charge, even though it was my band.  Needless to say, he didn't last long.  There was Gene Davis, a complete wannabe with no talent, and an even worse attitude of wanting to be in charge.  At Pecos, our pay included drinks from the bar.  After a couple of weeks, one of the owners politely calls me into his office to tell us they need to put a limit on the drink tab.  I said it was not a problem, that we don't drink.  He said, "Well, Gene does, he puts away drinks like there's no tomorrow, like ten or more per night" - and that's mixed drinks.  I had no idea, but I whole heartedly agreed.  He (Gene) also stole our name, we were "Dakota" (Lynda came up with it), Gene went down to the Commerce and Consumer Affairs office and registered the name in his name.  So, when I had to send him on his way - for a few reasons, one of which was that he had punched Lynda - right in the face.  So, we then named our band "Rio", which we used for the next ten years.  And yes, I registered it right away before we announced it.  It was lucky for me that a person warned me that Gene would do something like that.  We could have used the name for a length of time, and Gene could have sued us, and probably gotten money, among other things.

Ok, so the main subject of me writing tonight is Jim Mitchell.  He was a booking agent who had had a successful booking agency for the past ten years.  He was the only one booking country acts, he had connections in all the military clubs on the island, as well as being the manager of the Cowboy Inn.  So, he approaches me while I'm playing at Pecos, shifts things around, pulls me out of there so he can put his wife's band in.  The name of her band was Tina Marie And The White Buffalo Band.  They weren't good, people didn't care for them, they had no following.  But Jim Mitchell had married Tina.  For the record, she was 23, Jim was 63, fat, sloppy, cigar smoking crook from hell.  Being that Tina was all about her ego, she was ok to have married this horrible person.  So, I give him exclusive rights to book my band, figuring I'd be playing in all the military clubs, and the Cowboy Inn.  Well, nothin' doin'.  The first month he booked me 21 dates, I thought that was ok.  Then it quickly went downhill from there, by the third or fourth month, we were down to 10 nights a month.  Tina, on the other hand, was being booked seven nights a week, every week.  This goes on for about a year.  Why I put up with it for that long, I'll never know, I guess I as young and naive, thinking it would get better at some point.  Well, it didn't.  My wife and I are struggling to make ends meet, falling behind on things.  At about the year mark, I don't know how this happened, but three different managers of three different military clubs call me at home.  They inform me that they had been trying to get me to play at their club for a year, but Jim Mitchell keeps telling them we're booked up, but Tina happens to be open on those nights.  As it turns out, per my conversations with these managers, I was open on 90% of the nights that Jim was telling them I was booked.  After the third call, I fly down to Jim's office, I get in his face and tell him about my conversations, that I am now aware the he had been lying to the three club managers, and probably other managers of other clubs, and that he could stick his booking agency.  So, I started going out booking my band.  A musician in one of the independent bands, that I'd never even knew existed, called me and offered me to sub for his band on dates that he couldn't make.  I think the band was called "High Country".  So, with filling in for him, and what dates I booked on my own, after about three months, we were working 20, 25 nights a month.  Not only that, but what Jim was telling us the pay from these clubs was -  he was shorting us.  He was telling us we were getting $200 - $250, while we were actually getting $300 - $350.  Plus he was taking his 15% out.  So, now the other 4 or 5 other bands that Jim Mitchell had been booking, saw that I was doing better on my own, they all fired the guy and started booking themselves.  This guy had everybody threatened and scared, as in, "If you don't go through me, you don't work".  So now he only has his wife's band to book, and nobody wanted her, so the only place she could play was at the Cowboy Inn - where he was manager.  In a nice twist of fate, the owner of the Cowboy Inn had gotten wind of what Jim was doing - booking Tina 25 out of the 30 available nights - while people were beyond sick and tired of her.  He fires Jim, hires a house band - Warren Johnson And The Gator Creek Band.  So, Jim has no bands to book, and nobody wants Tina, he's not managing the Cowboy Inn anymore, so now he has nothing.  The next thing I know, he's in Arkansas selling tires at his In Law's tire shop.

Let me backtrack and give you an idea of some of the horrible stuff he did.  Besides lying to all those club managers for that year, he tried several other tricks.  There was Wheeler Air Force Base, the Enlisted Men's Club.  I had worked there something like once or twice while I was being booked by Jim.  I had a following around the island from the places I did play.  So, what Jim did is, he would book Tina, and advertise my band.  Not only did some of the patrons tell me, but one of them showed me the poster that was still up in the hallway that said bigger than shit, "RIO", on whatever date it was.  So, then there's Kaneohe Marine Corps Air Station Enlisted Men's Club.  Sundays were Rock & Roll Sunday, where the EM club would be packed with young, rowdy Marines.  So, he books me there on a Sunday, figuring I would fail - us being a Country Band playing on Rock & Roll Sunday.  Well, the band before us was a full on Rock & Roll band.  They weren't very good, but they were a Rock band.  We were outside the loading area waiting to load in.  We could hear the room full of guys - booing to beat hell, yelling, carrying on.  The band gets done, we load in, start playing.  We did our usual rowdy Country Music, including a few fiddle songs.  The Marines had a blast with us.  I'm sure it didn't hurt us any that we had Lynda - who looked like a supermodel - in her tight fittin' jeans.  I turned out to be a great day, the guys couldn't get enough of us.  So, the following Monday, I go into Jim's office to get my paycheck for the previous week, and he poutingly says, "So, you whipped the fiddle out on 'em, huh".  Another thing, Jim was a retired Air Force guy, he knew many of the people who ran the clubs.  I guess that's how he was able to book bands all those years.  So, it's New Year's Eve at Wheeler Air Force Enlisted Club.  Some smartass by the name of Sergeant Harris decides he's going to try to knock my mic stand over, comes dancing by with his elbow aimed at my mic stand.  I of course saw him coming, so I grabbed the stand so he couldn't knock it over.  After about the third time of this, I lean over, "Hey, you better fucking knock it off".  He of course, puffs his chest, says "Let's step outside".  I said I have one more song to do this set, then I'll see you outside.  I finish the song, he's huffing and puffing as we walk out to the parking lot.  We walk past four big black guys in suits - they were the bouncers, and the woman manager was also out there.  We get to the parking lot, and to make a long story short, the guy ends up a bloody mess.  The MPs come, they take their reports, and they tell me there's nothing to worry about, this happens sometimes.  Well, a couple weeks later, my drummer's mom, who worked at the Coast Guard base on Sand Island, tells Jerry (her son, our drummer) that Jim Mitchell called up after he'd heard about the incident, and convinced the Commander of all the Air Force bases on the island to punish me.  So, a couple weeks later, I get a certified letter in the mail, saying that "Due to this unacceptable behavior, you are hereby banned from entering upon any and all Air Force bases and installations in the State Of Hawaii for a period of one year"
.  So, he used this to see to it that I could not work at Wheeler, or, Hickam Air Force Base.  More to hide behind while he booked his wife's band - me being out of the way.

There's more, but you get the picture.  This was not a decent human being.  He did get what he deserved in the end, though, lost his agency, lost his managing job at the Cowboy Inn, and lost his connections that he used to promote his wife's awful band.  Selling tires at his In Law's tire shop in Arkansas is exactly where he belonged.

So, there are times when crappy people get what they earn, and this is one of 'em.  One of the most satisfying times I've had. 

Here's a link to a recording of my band, Rio, while we were playing at Pecos River Cafe - the newer location in Aiea.  It's me on banjo and fiddle, Denny Hemingson on guitar, Ed Riley on bass, and Lynda on drums.  I had a Peavey XR 1200, everything mic'd, and running into a Realistic (Radio Shack) cassette deck.   Foggy Mountain Breakdown At Pecos

To Steel or not to Steel

I had planned to lay down some pedal steel parts today, and maybe lead guitar and piano.  Well, my back is partway out.  If it goes all the way out, I'm toast for at least two months.

The body is worn out, my mind is also worn out.  I'm good with that, it just means that I lived, I went for it, and after all the times I got bashed in the head, I somehow got back up, and here I still am.  I'm definitely slowing down, I don't have near the energy I had up until a couple of years ago, don't have the stamina, and it takes me a few minutes to straighten up when I get up out of a chair, the car, or wherever else.  My thinking is slower, my reflexes are much slower.  Even my playing is not as pinpoint accurate as it once was.  I've always said, I don't want to get too old, where I can't do anything, or where I need to be taken care of.  I'm pretty sure that time is not too far off.  I've also said that if or when that time does come, I will check out on my own terms.  I've done things that most people wouldn't dream of doing.  I did without the luxuries of life - without the family life, the nice cars, the house.  I guess that stuff means something to most people, but in my case, I don't miss any of it, don't care about any of it, never have.

I come into my studio when I'm able.  There are many times when I get the urge to record something, or just come in here an plunk on one of my instruments, but don't have the energy to pull myself out of my recliner.  There is one little fact here that I'm sure plays a part in my current mental state, and my lack of energy and motivation.  I've been in a relationship with a woman who, I guess is just not right for me.  I'll skip all the gory details, just to say that I get grief whenever I leave the house.  My thing is, I should get grief where I live, I should be comfortable, and I should feel welcome.  I'm an easy guy, I don't care to tell another person what to do, what not to do, who not to talk to, who to spend time with, what to wear, where to go or not go.  I don't leave stuff laying around, everything has its place, and I always clean up after myself.  There are women who would greatly appreciate a guy like this.  I've never found her, I have always attracted controlling, jealous, insecure, angry, spiteful women.  I guess they see my soft spoken, unassuming personality, and they figure they can do and say anything they want, be rude, angry, and whatever else.  I've always had to be the one to escape the situation, at which time, of course, I'm the bastard in the story.  It's also at which time I end up on the receiving end of wrath that is mind numbing to say the least.  I'm always good to move on.  When I was a teenager, girls wanted nothing to do with me, and I was good with that.  Nobody was ever going to see me harassing any girl, guilting her, manipulating, bad mouthing, I just got on with me life.  If I were to run into any of them, I would laugh with them about what a socially backward dimwit I was.

So, while it would have been great to have had support from a significant other, it hasn't happened, probably never will.  That's life, so on with it.

I don't know what's going to happen.  I'm in Reno, working fairly steady, but not sure how much longer I'll be able to do what I do.  If it comes to where I have to check out, then I'll check out, I won't be sad about it, and I'll leave quietly.

So, I've been sitting at this computer for the past half hour, the back doesn't hurt any more than before, so maybe I can knock out some steel parts, guess I'll see how it goes.

 

                                  Goin' Where The Lonely Go

 

J.T. And The Rowdy Band

 

                                                    This is me at the Blaisdell hotel
                                                        downtown Honolulu, with
                                                       J.T. And The Rowdy Band.

 

It's still 1980, been playing in Susan Luke's White Stallion Band at Ducky's Silver Spur for the past five months.  One night, J.T. Cardens comes in.  He's 40 something years old, dyed in the wool country guy, singer, has his band - J.T. And The Rowdy Band.  He'd been trying different guys, looking for the right combination.  He came and talked to me about playing banjo and harmonica in his band.  He'd already had drums, bass, lead guitar, and him on rhythm guitar and singing.  I accepted, but before our first rehearsal, he calls me and asks if I would be ok to play lead guitar, maybe double on banjo and harmonica, he was not happy with his lead guitar guy.  That was just fine with me.  Still didn't know much, but was looking to learn.  Besides the regular rehearsals, he would take me to his house after gigs, play records by Merle Haggard, George Jones, Hank Williams, Ernest Tubb, Johnny Cash, and a whole bunch more of the classic country guys.  He would say, "Ok, now learn this guitar part".  So I would get it the best I could.  He did this with all those old time Country guys.  This is where I learned what Country Music is, the sound, the feel, and the guitar work.  We played in all the Military clubs around the island (Oahu), and all the civilian clubs.  We did events, fairs, it was a fun two years.  Around the two year mark, J.T. says we need to go to Nashville.  He says, "We're too good a band not to work".  The drummer, Tom "Stix" Bridges, gets an early out of the Army to accommodate, he's 41 at the time.  T. Taylor, the bass player, takes an early retirement, a cut in his pension, AND, he's got FIVE daughters - 11 years old up to 16 years old, and of course, his wife.  He's 46.  I have my 7 month pregnant wife.  We all agree to go to Nashville.  We all take a month to get our affairs in order, some stopped off at their hometown to rest a while, and we're all to meet in Nashville on a certain date.  If I remember correctly, it was the first of December when we were to meet.  So, we all get there, we have a two week booking in Sault St. Marie, Canada.  We head up there, play for the two weeks.  I have to add this part, because it's one of my most memorable times.  It's mid December, zero degrees, snow and ice everywhere.  We're on stage playing our usual old Country Music, when this older man, Elmer, limps up to the stage and asks if he could sit in on Dobro on the next set.  We agree to let him come up and play.  He asks me to tune his Dobro, so he hands me the case.  It's been in his car, so there's ice all over the instrument.  So, I let it thaw for a few minutes I tune it, and hand it back to Elmer.  Let me add, he is the nicest old guy you'd ever want to meet.  So, I get him all hooked up on stage, and he knows we're from Hawaii, so he asks if we know "Aloha Oe".  We start playing, and let me tell you, it was one of those tear jerking times that you just never forget.  If that wasn't enough, the very next night, a young guy comes up to us and asks if he could sit in on banjo - this was after he saw me play mine.  So, of course, we welcome him.  He gets up there, and his style is completely different from mine - what's known as the "Chromatic" style.  We do Foggy Mountain Breakdown, and a few others - same - one of those unforgettable times.  The guy's name was Manley Peters - also one of the nicest guys you'd ever want to meet.  It's times like that that make all the less than pleasant goings on in the business worth it.

So, we get done with the two week show, get back to Nashville.  J.T. calls a meeting at his house, at which time he informs us that, "I do not want to go on stage anymore".  The rest of us, of course, are in total disbelief.  It's late December, one of the worst snow storms in the history of the South.  So, we're all out there looking for jobs.  T, the bass player, lands a job at a truck stop, being a mechanic.  This guy is 46 years old - not a youngster, crawling around on his back under trucks and other vehicles, in the freezing cold.  I had (barely) got an apartment for me and my wife.  Tom, the drummer, also looking for work, came and stayed with us - sleeping on the couch, being that the apartment was a one bedroom.  After a week or so, he heads to San Jose, where his parents are living, I guess to try to start over.  I heard he got into computers, and did pretty well with it, so that was good.  Me and wife, Lynda, we head to Bryan/College Station, Texas to stay with a friend of Lynda's.  Keep in mind, she's 8-1/2 months pregnant by this time.  Backtracking for a minute.  Our drive to Texas was in a 67 Chevy Caprice with perfectly smooth tires.  I had borrowed a few hundred bucks from my mom to get it.  So, I'm driving in the blinding snow, snow and ice all over every inch of the roads.  Around midnight on one of the days, the car spins out and we land in a ditch - of course, the ditch is full of snow.  We're in Arkansas, there's hardly any traffic, but then here comes a tow truck.  They say, "We'll get ya out for $25".  My wife is outside the car walking around to stretch her legs.  I say, "I don't have $25 on me, but I'll send it to you when we get to Bryan.  It's two guys - they calmly get back into their truck and drive away.  Another attack of disbelief, but well, such is life among humans. So, I finally dig us out of the ditch - and two hours later, we're back on our way.  We finally arrive in Bryan, took me 33 hours to go 700 miles, no sleep, no rest, and a hot dog on the way.  Bryan is pretty near Austin, so I'm out looking for places to play music, join a band, something.  I put ads up all over town - nothing.  So, after a couple weeks of this, I call my old boss at AAMCO in San Diego - the LAST thing I wanted to do, and the boss says come on out.  So, I leave my 9 month pregnant wife in Texas, while I head to San Diego.  It took me a few weeks to get enough money to send for her, and by that time, she'd had the baby - Clint.  I guess we barely escaped death on that one :D .  I got an apartment through a friend at the shop, it was actually a nice little place, rustic, clean, and affordable.  So, there we stayed for the next four months, trying to survive, and trying to take care of a newborn baby.  Wasn't easy, but we did it - in spite of it all.

I guess I'll talk about the next chapter - where we moved back to Hawaii, with the plan to maybe start our own band.  So, there ya have it.

 Nother video.  I make all these videos in my little studio, play all the parts, sing all the parts.  Something I love more than just about anything.

 Cotton Fields

Corruption And Jealousy Doesn't Only Exist In Nashville

 

 

When I first started out, this would have been in the early 80s, I noticed the jealous ones.  Some were musicians, some were booking agents, some were radio people, and some were not in the music business at all.

I remember a guy who worked with me at Higa's Automatic Transmissions in the early 70s.  Al was the top R & R guy at the shop.  One day were were on our lunch break just talking idly, enjoying our lunch.  Out of the blue he says to me, "Nobody cares what #2 or #10 does, they want #1".  I don't know why he would have said that to me, because I was not very good at anything that he knew about.  I was new at transmissions, I was mostly cussing out the cars.  There was never any discussion about my Little League Baseball time, or my High School Basketball time, all he saw that I was next to incompetent at transmissions.  Maybe he saw something in my that I didn't, who knows, but I remember that to this day.

So, after 5 years of working on automatic transmissions, first Higa's, then AAMCO in Escondido, then AAMCO in San Diego, one day I said the hell with this, I'm done, done working myself half to death, and done putting up with the likes of Ron Smith - boss man who had it in for me.  By this time, I had gotten good at transmissions - thanks mostly to Al at Higa's - taught me a lot of tricks, and of course, basics.  So, after selling everything I owned - transmission tools, furniture, car, motorcycle, I went to Guitar Center on C Street in San Diego, bought a Les Paul Custom, then down to a tiny music store in Pacific Beach, bought a Fender Super Reverb amp.  I decided to head back to Hawaii.  I knew the area, I knew the military clubs, figured I could get a better start there than in San Diego.  There was also that the guys I'd been hanging around with for the past 4 or 5 years did nothing but try to establish their superiority over me, and that got really old, so, figured I would get out of San Diego.

I arrive in Hawaii, tried to start a band with an uncle who played guitar some.  This is the uncle who used to take me to Palolo Housing (The Projects) and play at parties that his family would have.  I wasn't good by any means, but it was still a good time.  That didn't work out so well, his heart wasn't in playing music, so we parted ways, not good ways, either, but well, such is life.

I started to make my way around to some of the military clubs to talk to managers.  At the same time I found some guys who I thought I might be able to play with.  At some point, a guy, Eddie Parales, saw me at the Fort Shafter Enlisted Men's club.  He had been playing in a Country band in a little country bar called Ducky's Silver Spur - it was way out in Ewa Beach.  He told me they were looking for a guitar player, and if I would be interested in auditioning.  I said I would, even thought I didn't know the first thing about Country Music, or much about lead guitar.  Well, wouldn't you know it, I got the job.  Looking back, it was probably because I was no threat to anybody.  Of course, I didn't think that way that early in my life, but I'm pretty sure that's why I got the job.  Eddie was always good to me, encouraging, telling me I was doing fine, even when I wasn't.  The other guys, kinda not - they had no problem telling me I was weak, gave me a hard time about pretty much everything.  I guess me being who I am, these guys' harping didn't really affect me, I just did the best I could, learned what I could.  This is where a couple of the other old timer musicians (not the ones in the band) took a liking to me, taught me stuff, encouraged me.  There was the one guy, Nick Masters, 60 something year old guy, used to play with Bill Haley and the Comets (after their heyday), who would come in, play my guitar, do his flashy stuff, while sneering and snickering at me.  Same it didn't really affect me, I noticed it, but I guess I just didn't think much of it.  This was the first I noticed the insane jealousy of so many musicians, including 2 of the 3 guys in the band I was in.  These guys, as well as the girl singer, whose band it was, would say less than pleasant things about the other musicians in the circuit.  I vividly remember the horrible things they said about one of the musicians - Earl Hughes.  The guy was very good, good lead guitar player, good fiddle player, good pedal steel player, and good singer - in fact, exceptional at all of it.  He had a good look, and his stage presence was also exceptional.  There was also that the guy I replaced, hated me with a vengeance.  I ran across his Facebook page a few years ago, tried to friend him, but I guess his hatred for me was still with him, so, that was the end of that.  I played in that band for about five months, witnessing the backstabbing, the badmouthing, the resentment.  Being new at music, I had no idea just how intense this kind of thing was, I was so naive, and didn't care to take part in any of it.

So, five months of this, and while some of it was not the greatest time, some of it was great, especially the couple of old timers who were teaching me stuff.  What I learned from those guys was priceless, and I'm thankful for them to have made the effort to share their experience and knowledge with this young kid who could barely play.

The next chapter of my playing music was with J.T. Cardens, another somewhat old timer who knew what true Country Music was.  I guess I'll talk about that in my next post :D .

We with all my videos and music, all production, all instruments, and all vocals by me : D.

Okie From Muskogee 

45 Years In The Music Business Has Taught Me A Few Things

Some of you may know, you who know me, that I've been in the music business for something like 45 years.  I've been to Nashville 5, 6, times or so.  I've seen what goes on behind the scenes, I've seen documentaries, I've seen articles.  Here is the beginning of my thoughts:

One of the things I've learned by having made it to this late age is, there is so much corruption in the world.  There are people who don't think like decent human beings, they feel the need to control the world, intentionally hurt people, even murder people.  So, let's huddle around the music business, being that that's where I've been all these decades.

From the early 80s on back, it was difficult to break into what was known as the "Big Time", in other words to get signed by a major Country record label.  The first thing to keep in mind is, record executives, "Talent Scouts", today known as "A & R" people have a very bad track record when it comes to signing talent.  They'll all tell you that "Most of the artists and bands we sign never even recoup the promotional costs".  It doesn't seem that difficult to me, to recognize real talent, but for some reason, the people in positions of power - even back then, had a very hard time finding the cream of the crop.  They got lucky with some - Hank Williams, Merle Haggard, Johnny Cash, George Jones, Loretta Lynn, Tammy Wynette, and a few others.  But when you think about how many thousands of artists and bands they signed, that never went anywhere, the percentage of talent that was successful was minute.  Well, sometime during the 80s, right around the time that the Urban Cowboy movie came out, things took a turn for the worse.  The record people moved in the direction of Pop music, taking away the true Country roots and traditions.  They signed some of the most horrible acts, and the ones who started out Country, they changed them - turned them towards Pop, which destroyed the careers of many true Country artists, musicians, and bands.  By the early 90s, there were very few true Country artists being signed by the major Country record labels.  By the mid 90s, pretty much all the Country dance halls were gone.  We can thank the record labels, Mainstream Radio, and the Line Dancers for that.  I'll get into all of these in more detail in my future posts.  Record labels started right about that time, to sign some of the most horrid acts, while intentionally locking out true talent - and that system continues to this day - and, they get much better at it with each day that goes by.  Mainstream Radio, of course, being part and parcel to the corruption, would only play what came from the major record labels.  A side:  My dad was a radio disc jockey during the 50s and 60s, he informed me that the front desk of all radio stations were instructed to toss any and all "Unsolicited Music" straight into the trash.  Also by the mid 90s, all the good studio musicians that had been in Nashville were tossed out, having been replaced by cheap imitations.  Ray Flacke was one of the greatest Country guitar players in the history of Country Music, the guy could not get hired for the life of him.  And his story is no isolated case.

The 2000s arrive and now the studios are starting to use electronic devices on the recordings.  Drum machines, MIDI, sampling, Pitch Correcting Software (not to be confused with "Autotune", which is an effect, not any kind of thing that would correct pitch), electronic harmonizers, and soon after - Computer Generated "Content".  Take a quick fast forward to 2025, and the majority of the music you hear coming out of Nashville is mostly computer generated - no real musicians, no real instruments.  The ones doing the singing today, none are actual artists, they are actors, they have been taught how to put on fake southern accents - most of them grossly overdone.  Most of then don't even know how to actually sing.  And the songs - some written by "Staff Writers", who get paid slightly more than minimum wage, to write songs that fit inside the horrible box that Nashville has been creating for decades.  Many of the other songs are written by computers.  This is why the lyrics are mindless and wandering - pandering to the teenage groups who are easily fooled by the billion dollar a year hype that Nashville puts out.  "He's the real deal", the guy they refer to with that one is anything but real.  The back stories are all concocted by the publicist departments - same - guys who sit around all day making up total and complete lies that make these "Stars" sound like something.  I happened to know a guy who worked for a major Country act that has now been around for more than 20 years.  I asked him early on, "What's it like working for ___?".  His answer:  "He's a hell of a nice guy, but it would be great if he could hit a note once in a while".

Before I sign off for tonight, my one last thought, nobody can tell me there isn't real talent out here, it's just that Nashville will not let it be heard.

So, I guess I'll stop here for now.  There is so much more, which I'll get into in my future posts.  So please check back.

The video is me, playing all the instruments, singing all the parts, and doing all the production.  The song is one of my originals, lamenting to my favorite Country singer, Merle Haggard, asking what the hell happened to our music.

Till next time.

Mr. Haggard