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Band Geeks
By Randy Southerland
Dr. Jeffrey James, a Los Angeles DC, was 10 when he first heard the Grateful Dead. The band's 1972 tour opened up a new world as he heard music played in a completely new and different way.
Like so many others he was hooked and a couple of years later when he finally attended a Dead show the love affair was consummated.
"It wasn't a musical performance so much as it was a musical exploration and adventure," he says. "I never heard music played like that before. It seemed almost like the crowd was playing and the band was playing the crowd. It was something sort of out of the blue for me—unexpected. I was surprised and hooked from the very start."
That Dead show was the first of many and over the years James has experienced nearly 200 concerts flying to cities around the country and in Europe. Each one has given him something different and maintained a passion that still burns today.
James is just one of many passionate music fans who are more than just casual listeners. The music is an integral part of their lives and drives and shapes their lifestyles. Some call themselves Deadheads (Grateful Dead) or Parrotheads (Jimmy Buffett fans) or just fans, but nobody would call them anything less than dedicated to their favorites.
Their reasons for being fans vary. Dr. Richard Drucker, founder and president of Drucker Labs, is something of a musician himself. He took up drumming when he was 11 and found inspiration for his instrument listening to the great Buddy Rich, the acknowledged master on the drums.
"I have seen such a vast incredible talent that it would be difficult for me to put into words what Buddy Rich was to drumming," says Drucker. "I mean, there is Picasso and there are some very famous composers—Bach and Beethoven—that have changed symphony and orchestra and music; Buddy was all of that. Buddy was the Picasso of the drum set."
As a kid, he played Rich's albums in his room listening to a song and then ran downstairs to the basement to duplicate what he had heard on his own drum set. It was often a frustrating exercise as the aspiring musician tried to duplicate intricate riffs. Self-taught, he never duplicated Rich's virtuoso performances, but he developed a deep and abiding love for the music and the man.
While Rich passed away in 1987, another talent rose to turn the drums from mere background rhythms into the dominate and driving force in music. Neil Peart was the drummer and lyricist for the influential Canadian rock band, Rush. Founded in the late '60s, the band has performed continuously in the decades since developing a reputation for instrumental virtuosity, intricate musical compositions accompanied by lyrical motifs influenced by science fiction, libertarian philosophy and various social and environmental movements. After joining the band in 1974, Peart has become one of the most celebrated drummers in music.
"And Neil's command of solo is definitely a major event," declares Drucker. "He had to figure out how to convert that into rock 'n' roll, and in order for that to happen it needed a twist, it needed tweaking, it needed taming and in some ways it needed to be unleashed, but it needed that same spontaneity that Buddy had."
The playing and the music made him a fan of both the band and its most dominant member. The group's continuing evolution and the production of music that was never static, but always finding new areas of artistic exploration, has always held his interest and kindled his passion.
While Drucker long ago gave up any idea of becoming a professional musician—he performed in a variety of garage bands and still plays for friends—his love of music has only grown. His success in business has given him the opportunity to pursue his interests. A few years ago he purchased Peart's 30th anniversary drum set from Drum Workshop in California.
"It's a masterpiece of gold, all 25 karat gold and everything is handmade and hand done, to his specifications," says Drucker. "They were made especially for Neal and so I have his drum set sitting in my office."
He's also still a fan of Buddy Rich and a long-standing friend of Buddy's daughter. Recently, he joined with the Rich family in sponsoring a tribute to the master drummer set for Oct. 18 in New York's Hammerstein Hall at the Manhattan Center. And, in a marvel of synchronicity, Neil Peart agreed to make a rare appearance to perform at this Remembrance of Buddy Rich concert. It will also mark the first time Drucker has met the music legend in person.
When Dr. Marc Schneider, director of student services at Life University in Marietta, Ga., built a new vacation home on Lake Sinclair, the entertainment room quickly took on a Caribbean island motif in honor of his beloved Jimmy Buffett. There are Buffett-inspired signs on the walls and a neon tiki bar sign. A large mirror reads Margaritaville—the nickname for Buffett's adopted home of Key West. The speakers are playing the singer's mellow, good time music and Schneider's uniform is shorts and a Hawaiian shirt.
He's also made it his personal mission to go to every one of Buffett's Margaritaville café locations.
"He keeps opening them so I can't quite get to them, but I've been to Orlando, New Orleans, Las Vegas and even Jamaica," says Schneider.
He was introduced to Buffett's good time music by his wife, who had been a fan since the early '70s. In those days, Buffett was more of a wandering troubadour playing small venues. Like so many other fans Schneider fell in love with the singer's quirky and often humorous view of life expressed in famous hits such as "Cheeseburger in Paradise" and "Margaritaville," as well as more thoughtful, if less well known, tunes such as a "Pirate Looks at 40" and "Holiday."
"I listen to them every single day," he says and then by way of explanation adds, "I think with Buffett's music, it's a lifestyle, it's that escapism, it takes you away. His songs don't resemble anything that we do in our normal lives. It has to do with what I think we would like to be doing if we were carefree and didn't have to work. We'd be sailing around the Caribbean and seeking adventure, probably drinking a little bit of rum every now and then."
For each of these fans their passion for the music is long standing. Most popular music has little durability. Radio stations overplay it for a while and then it tends to fade from memory. For these fans, the music stays fresh because it possesses some quality that strikes a chord and stays with them long after the record isn't a hit.
"Where I lose interest in most music is when musicians are just going out and they are backing an album," says James. "They just put out an album and now they are going to tour to support and promote the album and they play every song note for note as it is on the album. For me there is only so much of that that's interesting."
The Grateful Dead's music always seemed to be presented in a reverse fashion. They played their music live for a few years before cutting an album. Constant concert performances seemed to allow them to find new takes on each song.
"The music was always more edgy that what would be acceptable on an album," says James. "So they never ever would play the same song the same way twice."
For James and other true fans, the music wasn't something just to be listened to on the home stereo or car radio. It had to be experienced live to find the true flavor of both the songs and the performers.
"You could have literally a religious experience at these shows," says James. "It felt like church and the best party that you ever went to all at the same time. I think all music has the possibility to alter your consciousness and to get you to see things a little bit differently."
Drucker revels in the sheer complexity of Rush's music and Peart's drumming.
"I find it to be beyond challenging to this day," he says. "They came out with a new album last year and to this day I'm still on the third song trying to comprehend what Neil has done."
Being a true fan also has a downside as well. Family members—whether they are spouses or children—may not share or even understand their passion for the music and the band. When a spouse does it makes the whole experience that much easier.
"My wife and I share a love for Buffett and all things, the whole lifestyle," says Schneider. "We always joke. We always try to find a way to go to Key West. We go on a cruise, but if it doesn't stop in Key West we really have to think twice about whether we want to go on that cruise."
And, while they may not be friends, fans certainly have an attachment to the performers that transcends simply listening to the songs. James recalls the day that Grateful Dead leader Jerry Garcia died.
He was camping in the Pikes Peak region of Colorado with a friend. After a day of horse back riding, the two had stopped. Surrounded by natural beauty underneath a brilliant full moon, he suddenly felt incredibly sad. It was an unusual and totally inexplicable emotion. He asked his friend if he had the same feeling, but he didn't.
Later, after returning to the hotel where they were staying, he turned on the television to the news that Garcia had passed away.
"I thought how cosmic that somewhere in this combined consciousness we all share, I was feeling the sadness of all those thousands of people who were mourning Jerry's death," he muses.
While musicians pass on, they live on in their music and the memories of their followers.
The Rolling Stones' Mick Jagger may have been speaking for James and these other musical followers when he sang, "I know it's only rock 'n' roll, but I like it, like it, yes I do!"
Like so many others he was hooked and a couple of years later when he finally attended a Dead show the love affair was consummated.
"It wasn't a musical performance so much as it was a musical exploration and adventure," he says. "I never heard music played like that before. It seemed almost like the crowd was playing and the band was playing the crowd. It was something sort of out of the blue for me—unexpected. I was surprised and hooked from the very start."
That Dead show was the first of many and over the years James has experienced nearly 200 concerts flying to cities around the country and in Europe. Each one has given him something different and maintained a passion that still burns today.
James is just one of many passionate music fans who are more than just casual listeners. The music is an integral part of their lives and drives and shapes their lifestyles. Some call themselves Deadheads (Grateful Dead) or Parrotheads (Jimmy Buffett fans) or just fans, but nobody would call them anything less than dedicated to their favorites.
Their reasons for being fans vary. Dr. Richard Drucker, founder and president of Drucker Labs, is something of a musician himself. He took up drumming when he was 11 and found inspiration for his instrument listening to the great Buddy Rich, the acknowledged master on the drums.
"I have seen such a vast incredible talent that it would be difficult for me to put into words what Buddy Rich was to drumming," says Drucker. "I mean, there is Picasso and there are some very famous composers—Bach and Beethoven—that have changed symphony and orchestra and music; Buddy was all of that. Buddy was the Picasso of the drum set."
As a kid, he played Rich's albums in his room listening to a song and then ran downstairs to the basement to duplicate what he had heard on his own drum set. It was often a frustrating exercise as the aspiring musician tried to duplicate intricate riffs. Self-taught, he never duplicated Rich's virtuoso performances, but he developed a deep and abiding love for the music and the man.
While Rich passed away in 1987, another talent rose to turn the drums from mere background rhythms into the dominate and driving force in music. Neil Peart was the drummer and lyricist for the influential Canadian rock band, Rush. Founded in the late '60s, the band has performed continuously in the decades since developing a reputation for instrumental virtuosity, intricate musical compositions accompanied by lyrical motifs influenced by science fiction, libertarian philosophy and various social and environmental movements. After joining the band in 1974, Peart has become one of the most celebrated drummers in music.
"And Neil's command of solo is definitely a major event," declares Drucker. "He had to figure out how to convert that into rock 'n' roll, and in order for that to happen it needed a twist, it needed tweaking, it needed taming and in some ways it needed to be unleashed, but it needed that same spontaneity that Buddy had."
The playing and the music made him a fan of both the band and its most dominant member. The group's continuing evolution and the production of music that was never static, but always finding new areas of artistic exploration, has always held his interest and kindled his passion.
While Drucker long ago gave up any idea of becoming a professional musician—he performed in a variety of garage bands and still plays for friends—his love of music has only grown. His success in business has given him the opportunity to pursue his interests. A few years ago he purchased Peart's 30th anniversary drum set from Drum Workshop in California.
"It's a masterpiece of gold, all 25 karat gold and everything is handmade and hand done, to his specifications," says Drucker. "They were made especially for Neal and so I have his drum set sitting in my office."
He's also still a fan of Buddy Rich and a long-standing friend of Buddy's daughter. Recently, he joined with the Rich family in sponsoring a tribute to the master drummer set for Oct. 18 in New York's Hammerstein Hall at the Manhattan Center. And, in a marvel of synchronicity, Neil Peart agreed to make a rare appearance to perform at this Remembrance of Buddy Rich concert. It will also mark the first time Drucker has met the music legend in person.
When Dr. Marc Schneider, director of student services at Life University in Marietta, Ga., built a new vacation home on Lake Sinclair, the entertainment room quickly took on a Caribbean island motif in honor of his beloved Jimmy Buffett. There are Buffett-inspired signs on the walls and a neon tiki bar sign. A large mirror reads Margaritaville—the nickname for Buffett's adopted home of Key West. The speakers are playing the singer's mellow, good time music and Schneider's uniform is shorts and a Hawaiian shirt.
He's also made it his personal mission to go to every one of Buffett's Margaritaville café locations.
"He keeps opening them so I can't quite get to them, but I've been to Orlando, New Orleans, Las Vegas and even Jamaica," says Schneider.
He was introduced to Buffett's good time music by his wife, who had been a fan since the early '70s. In those days, Buffett was more of a wandering troubadour playing small venues. Like so many other fans Schneider fell in love with the singer's quirky and often humorous view of life expressed in famous hits such as "Cheeseburger in Paradise" and "Margaritaville," as well as more thoughtful, if less well known, tunes such as a "Pirate Looks at 40" and "Holiday."
"I listen to them every single day," he says and then by way of explanation adds, "I think with Buffett's music, it's a lifestyle, it's that escapism, it takes you away. His songs don't resemble anything that we do in our normal lives. It has to do with what I think we would like to be doing if we were carefree and didn't have to work. We'd be sailing around the Caribbean and seeking adventure, probably drinking a little bit of rum every now and then."
For each of these fans their passion for the music is long standing. Most popular music has little durability. Radio stations overplay it for a while and then it tends to fade from memory. For these fans, the music stays fresh because it possesses some quality that strikes a chord and stays with them long after the record isn't a hit.
"Where I lose interest in most music is when musicians are just going out and they are backing an album," says James. "They just put out an album and now they are going to tour to support and promote the album and they play every song note for note as it is on the album. For me there is only so much of that that's interesting."
The Grateful Dead's music always seemed to be presented in a reverse fashion. They played their music live for a few years before cutting an album. Constant concert performances seemed to allow them to find new takes on each song.
"The music was always more edgy that what would be acceptable on an album," says James. "So they never ever would play the same song the same way twice."
For James and other true fans, the music wasn't something just to be listened to on the home stereo or car radio. It had to be experienced live to find the true flavor of both the songs and the performers.
"You could have literally a religious experience at these shows," says James. "It felt like church and the best party that you ever went to all at the same time. I think all music has the possibility to alter your consciousness and to get you to see things a little bit differently."
Drucker revels in the sheer complexity of Rush's music and Peart's drumming.
"I find it to be beyond challenging to this day," he says. "They came out with a new album last year and to this day I'm still on the third song trying to comprehend what Neil has done."
Being a true fan also has a downside as well. Family members—whether they are spouses or children—may not share or even understand their passion for the music and the band. When a spouse does it makes the whole experience that much easier.
"My wife and I share a love for Buffett and all things, the whole lifestyle," says Schneider. "We always joke. We always try to find a way to go to Key West. We go on a cruise, but if it doesn't stop in Key West we really have to think twice about whether we want to go on that cruise."
And, while they may not be friends, fans certainly have an attachment to the performers that transcends simply listening to the songs. James recalls the day that Grateful Dead leader Jerry Garcia died.
He was camping in the Pikes Peak region of Colorado with a friend. After a day of horse back riding, the two had stopped. Surrounded by natural beauty underneath a brilliant full moon, he suddenly felt incredibly sad. It was an unusual and totally inexplicable emotion. He asked his friend if he had the same feeling, but he didn't.
Later, after returning to the hotel where they were staying, he turned on the television to the news that Garcia had passed away.
"I thought how cosmic that somewhere in this combined consciousness we all share, I was feeling the sadness of all those thousands of people who were mourning Jerry's death," he muses.
While musicians pass on, they live on in their music and the memories of their followers.
The Rolling Stones' Mick Jagger may have been speaking for James and these other musical followers when he sang, "I know it's only rock 'n' roll, but I like it, like it, yes I do!"
©2008 Today's Chiropractic