The scene outside IRS Records was like a crowd rallying around a high school football team going to the state championship. “Good Luck Dada” was attached to the roof, and all of the office was outside waving. A nice gesture, but I didn’t stop. I got on the freeway, and we headed out of L.A.
I finally got to hear them, and they produced tight sounds. Good three-person bands can make it sound like there are many more than three people on stage. Dada did just that. Plus, they were easy going, and that’s always a blessing on a tour. I bought several of their albums over the years, and although they never hit the grand heights of selling out arenas, they still put out good music. My children and I laughed at their lyrics and dig the music. Their biggest hit, “Going to Diz Knee Land,” is not exactly what you think it is about.
This was going to be a good tour. I was looking forward to watching and working with them for a long time as well as my friends on the Sting tour. I received a call from the bus owner just as we were starting to gel as a team. The bus owner needed to fill a slot on Aerosmith’s “Get A Grip” tour and was offering the slot to me. It was kicking off in Kansas in a few days, and he wanted me there. He planned for me to swap out with another group’s bus. It was better for him, better revenue, and he wanted his bus to be on that big tour. It was a no-brainer for me as well. Aerosmith would be all over the country to support this album, but because they were so big, there would also be plenty of breaks between stints for me to see my family. I had to go with the steady paychecks. I’m glad I was exposed to Dada, though. To this day, Dada is still one of my favorite bands to listen to.
We swapped out buses in Memphis, and I never saw that band again. It was a bummer to leave these guys because the short time left a good memory. But good times don’t pay the bills.
Chapter 12 The Power Of The Politician
A part of my life has been spent with rock stars, but you don’t necessarily have to make music to be one. Polished politicians and religious leaders can be just as captivating as the Rolling Stones. The term “rock star” can be attributed to more than a few politicians. My state’s own Bill Clinton is as bona fide as perhaps Martin Luther King Jr. or John F. Kennedy were in their time. But few know how to speak to a group of people like Jesse Jackson. The power of Jesse can be felt the moment he enters a building. I was in such a building once when I drove a truckload of production equipment to Memphis for a PUSH (People United to Save Humanity) convention. At the time I was on a break from driving buses and filling in by driving a production truck. I didn’t know at that time who was trying to destroy humanity, but I paid that no mind.
Several bands were on the bill and played before Jesse even arrived at the Mid-South Coliseum. I was sitting on the side of the stage watching the Bar-Kays do their “funk” thing. They were one of my favorite bands back then. I had worked many shows with them throughout the Midsouth and enjoyed their style of music. They had a drummer, Willie Hall, who was incredible, playing a double bass drum set up. Many of the big hair rock bands hadn’t made their mark yet, and the two-bass drum style wasn’t very common with bands.
After the Bar-Kays performed, the road crew hit the stage to make the changes for Mr. Jackson’s speech. Besides driving the equipment there, I was a gopher for whatever anyone needed. I helped grab a couple of the guitar amps and push them to the ramp at the back of the stage. Weird as it may seem, as I was finishing up, I felt something different in the air. There seemed to be a presence as I walked back over across stage right behind the monitor mix console. I took a seat on one of the road cases and could see the arena floor entrance and a crowd gathering. As the lights went down, I stood up, and I could definitely feel the tension in the building. The crowd began to cheer, and a commotion behind the stage picked up when the man, who many considered the most important voice for black America at that time, rounded the corner headed for the stage. When he climbed the steps, the noise was deafening. The feeling of power was tangible, and as he walked to the front of the stage waving a little and smiling, it was something like I had never felt before.
And then, as quickly as the crowd had been roaring, it got deathly silent. I mean quiet quiet. Looking out over the crowd from my side of the stage, I could see every face staring at him. With the stage lights placed on the audience, I witnessed a sincere concentration on everyone’s face.
After the silence, he raised his right hand, made it into a fist and said his first words into the microphone.
“Say I am.”
Everyone in the room, including me, responded.
“I am!”
He said it again a little louder.
“Say I am!”
Once again, the crowd shouted back.
“I am!”
A third time he yelled it.
“SAY I AM!”
I could feel the vibrations through the stage as everyone screamed back.
“I AM!”
The power in the room was electric, different from any of the rock shows I have witnessed. I believed at that moment he could have directed that crowd to do anything, and it would have happened. Me included! Good, bad, anything, the command that he had was overpowering. Obedience was his, and you could feel it in the coliseum.
He then launched into a great speech that applied to everyone: black, white, red, yellow, purple and green. He just wanted everyone to make our world a better place. I agreed with him on pretty much everything that day. I had only known him through the media, but he definitely seemed to portray a different image in person.
When the event was over, I was thinking heavily during the two-hour drive back to Little Rock. I gave a lot of consideration for Mr. Jackson and what I had observed. No matter what anyone has said about him, I truly believed this was a man with good in his heart trying to get the best result from everyone. Maybe I could have been fooled, but I was a willing fool that night. Mr. Jackson’s presence is so powerful. Being in the presence of his power that night was a long way from those who influenced me as a youth in a racially divided community.
I felt the good in his heart that night in Memphis, and, that’s what I got from him and his speech. Well, that and a small paycheck, of course.
Hypnotized
Feeling that emotional connection with Jessie helped me recognize it with others down the road. Very few entertainers can grab an entire crowd and hypnotize them. The ones who can capture that moment and express themselves, their music or comedic form are truly meant to be there in my opinion. That Zen-like moment can creep up at shows, but it is rare. The feeling is incredible and there’s nothing like escaping through and soaking up its power. It all has to do with the entertainer, the crowd and the moment.
I felt it with Journey during a show in Detroit. I felt the crowd making contact with the band and vice versa. I felt it after Black Sabbath blew the roof off the Alamodome in San Antonio one night. Depeche Mode had a knack for catching crowds by surprise and putting them into some kind of bouncy dance trance. One night at Brendan Byrne/Continental Airlines/IZOD arena in New Jersey the crowd was shaking the entire building so much that the speakers hanging from the ceiling were bouncing on the chains and management and riggers were going nuts over safety issues.
While touring with Aerosmith we went into Pine Knob a day early to tape a segment for a BBC Television show called “Top of the Pops.” Aerosmith had a hit on the charts in Europe, and, on a day off, the crew had loaded in gear so the band could play the song. A radio station gave away several thousand tickets for the taping at the venue. Whenever cameras and tapes get involved, usually hours are spent taping the same thing over and over. After a near dozen takes to get things right, playing the song over and over, a director called it quits. When the taping was over, Aerosmith started a jam session, playing an hour worth of songs that I had never heard them play before. Some old stuff and some new. The several thousand fans got a great private show. I got one too and enjoyed every minute of it.
Marilyn Manson’s production and music was a
bit hypnotic as was the inspiring feeling that Ricky Martin gave to the masses. I have felt it many times … that moment when forces come together to create a euphoric state of reality. It feels orgasmic. All things are forgotten except that moment.
Jazzy Pizzazz
Entertainment hypnotism probably can be traced back to the very first entertainers. George Shearing, whose career spanned from the ’30s to modern day, was possibly the most influential jazz piano player in the world. Joe Williams was one of the best jazz and blues singers and crooners. He was a mega-legend during his time when the music and crowds dressed differently compared to today’s events. Joe’s stories of the old days of performing and how life was during mid-century America were so surreal, and his humor added so much to the stories that sometimes I wished I lived back then. Joe and George were wonderful to be around, and I believe I could listen for hours to these their tales from the trails from long before I was even born.
George became popular when he developed a piano technique known as Shearing’s voicing, a type of double melody block chording, with an additional fifth part that doubles the melody an octave lower. I know. It sounds weird to me too. Performed live it sounds incredible. That’s why he was the best.
George performed for three presidents and the Queen of England. He recorded with Nat King Cole, Peggy Lee and Mel Torme, among many others. I picked them both up along with several other musicians for a short run through the upper Midwest performing at older theaters where everyone used to go to see shows. There were no arenas back in the day when these two were at their prime.
The run was a short one only lasting a few days, with the musicians and a couple of crew guys all riding in one bus. The schedule wasn’t very tough since George was in his late ’70s at the time. Joe was closing in on that age as well. There was no wild partying of today’s standards going on, and it turned out to be one of the easiest tours I had ever done as well as a history lesson about days of old. George was as sharp as ever, and even though he was blind, he could fool you with his antics.
One day we were in the bus getting ready to depart for our hotel. Mrs. Shearing was sitting on the couch in the front lounge of the bus, and George was sitting at the table.
Someone said, “Okay, it’s time to go.”
“Wait a minute, where’s Fred?” Mrs. Shearing asked. Fred was one of the roadies. “Without Fred, we’re dead.”
Without missing a beat, George said, “What about Chuck, honey? What are we if we don’t have Chuck?” Chuck was another crew member. She tried to answer, but it didn’t matter. Everyone started laughing. George was so witty.
I enjoyed listening to their stories of the old days. Seems like we all long to have lived in a time before us. Those times seem golden and magical to me. Today’s touring bands and crews have such a different life compared to the older traveling acts. They didn’t have the luxury buses or the high-tech production equipment of today. In their day, the music was all that mattered. Amenities that touring groups experience now weren’t even thought of in the prime working days of George and Joe.
At the Pabst Theatre in Milwaukee I stood on the side of the stage behind George and watched the show. What an incredible thing to hear and see these two masters perform. Standing behind George I could see his hands moving all over the piano keys. He was so smooth with his playing as he sat straight and proper in his tux. His hands seemed to open wider than any other pianist I had ever seen. He could catch notes that no one else seemed to be able to reach.
The crowd of men and women from older generations always arrived to the show wearing their Sunday best. As I looked out into the audience, I saw several crying as they felt the emotion in the music. I imagine they were reminiscing of days gone by and how the music had touched them at earlier periods in their lives. George and Joe were probably the classiest entertainers I’ve ever seen or had the pleasure of working with. Hats off to them. They definitely knew how to capture a crowd.
From children’s shows, like Barney, to the acts that older generations enjoy, I’ve witnessed the broad spectrum of entertainment hypnotism.
Chapter 13 Not Ready For Prime Time
I’m an unknown behind the scenes, but I’ve had my share of newspaper face-time. For instance, I was in a small town once in eastern Pennsylvania doing my laundry on a day off. In the alley where I had to park, a guy showed up with a camera and took my picture in my dirty clothes. A little embarrassing. He said it was going in a local paper. I can’t even remember where that was. Allentown, maybe?
I try to keep up with the world that doesn’t tour by reading local newspapers and watching local newscasts. While Americans on the East Coast think of ways they’re different from those on the West Coast and vice versa, I see how we’re alike. The news in one town is the same as the next – death, destruction, do-gooders and happenings.
I couldn’t imagine what my grandfather would think of the modern news. The newspapers and the CBS Evening News were so important in the 1960s when I sat watching with him. It was there that I learned how to study the news. Nowadays, I have lost faith in getting the right news. Giving it to the public straight doesn’t seem to happen anymore. Influenced by stockholders and the corporations that pump millions of dollars into advertising on the networks, it’s no wonder that we now get such a filtered version of the news.
I’ve had to deal with the media on more than one occasion, mainly in connection with the celebrities I’ve transported. The paparazzi have staked out hotels where my passengers stay as well as chased my bus as I’ve driven down the highway. Once I got in toe to toe with the media... and I wasn’t even on a tour.
In late 1996, I tried to go from the traveling life to home life once again. I wanted so much to spend time with my wonderful family, so I prayed for an opportunity. My prayers were answered when I received the chance to get out from behind the wheel and back into the staging business. Mike “Bean” Pinner, a friend, mentor and the owner of Concert Staging Services, where I got my start in entertainment production, called me one afternoon. He needed a salesman to sell staging to fairs, festivals and concert promoters. Tired of the road, I readily took his offer to help increase sales. I knew lots of people in the industry, and I wasn’t afraid to approach them. He was designing a mobile stage that was self-contained on one trailer, and when it was finished, I was able to book it with the Ozzfest Tour. I started approaching all the festivals and promoters in the country trying to drum up more work for the company.
For many of the events that took place in Little Rock, Concert Staging Services was hired to provide equipment. From outdoor concerts, speaking platforms, river festivals and anything that required outdoor or indoor staging, CSS provided in the Central Arkansas area.
In August of 1997, Mike and I went downtown to Little Rock Central High School to scope out media locations for the 40th anniversary of the integration crisis. In 1957, National Guard troops escorted nine black students to the school despite objections of white protestors. My mother, pregnant with me at the time, had been one of those who had protested integration. She had graduated from Central the year before.
Dignitaries from the city, state and around the world would be attending the anniversary event, including President Bill Clinton, who at the time was embroiled in the Paula Jones lawsuit.
After a few hours at Central High taking measurements and doing calculations, Bean asked me to accompany a media person to the Legacy Hotel downtown on Capitol Avenue. He mentioned taking some measurements to see if we could set up staging a media event. Why the Legacy Hotel? Because it was directly across from the front door of the Federal Courthouse building where the President was expected to go to trial. CNN wanted to build a tower in the parking lot of the hotel about two stories high so they could broadcast and have the perfect angle on the front door of the building where the Paula Jones case was going to be heard. En route to the hotel, the representative from CNN explained that ABC had already rented the best floor in the hotel to anchor th
eir nightly news coverage of the trial. Other networks were in negotiations for the other prime floors. They were going to rebuild the windows in the hotel so their cameras would have the perfect shots.
It was all basic stuff, calculating how much space verses the height versus the weight. As we were measuring the property lines, my mind started racing with an idea that almost got way out of hand. A year before, I was in Los Angeles on tour and during a day off, I had passed by the O.J. Simpson trial. It was insanity. Reporters were camped all along the sidewalks across the street from the courthouse, and there I was, stuck in the traffic jam caused by the sensational trial. The L.A. police were trying to keep it in order. From what I could tell, they seemed to have little success.
While we were measuring, I suddenly realized that the media spotlight was about to descend upon Little Rock. As a staging company, the bigger the structures, the more everybody makes. Building a temporary structure to handle the weight of all the equipment needed to broadcast the news meant we were going to use a lot of equipment. I had an idea that if we built a press riser in the middle of Capitol Avenue (blocking off that particular part of the street), we could rent out space to more than 100 media sources, offering each a 4 X 8 space big enough for a camera to sit on and shoot a reporter with their back to the courthouse. It would provide a perfect scene from which broadcasters could report back to their hometowns. And everyone would have an equal spot. Who could have a problem with that?
I took out my pad and wrote on both sides: one for the CNN folks and one for myself. I wasn’t about to let this idea leak out. I had already been involved with several thousand concerts, festivals and events, and it was easy to imagine how a media compound could be set up so everyone had a fair shot at coverage. Every second that went by, the CNN idea was added into the mix of the larger media compound idea.
Tales from the Trails of a Rock ’n’ Roll Bus Driver Page 10