Story time - young Stewart
Posted: 01 Apr 2009 19:32This was posted on another board that I frequent. The poster of the below tale is well-known to us on that board for having been a part of the music scene in LA and southern California "back in the day" (in other words, enough of us know him to know his stories from the old days are not just made-up crap). I thought everyone here would like to read this one:
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Back in early Spring of ’72, my Ocean Beach San Diego garage bands were constantly looking for a great drummer.
This gangly kid from Cal Western / U.S. International University in Point Loma (a school for U.S. government diplomats’ offspring) showed up @ my little studio, that was filled with amps & pa gear, & completely plastered in egg crates, floor to ceiling, & about 5 layers of carpet.
This guy claimed his dad was in the C.I.A. in Beirut Lebanon, & his big brother was the road manager for Wishbone Ash, back in England. C.I.A.? Wishbone Ash?? England??? Yea, right…whatever, dude!
We were trying to amass a 50 song set list of the typical rock standards of the day that we needed to play the burgeoning beach town saloons that were booming throughout San Diego. You could clear $150 a week per man, back when rents were about $120 for a 2 bedroom apartment, if you could land a steady gig @ clubs like the Bath House in Mission Beach, Ledbetters by the College, the Cardiff Lodge by Encinitas, & the Pleasure in National City.
We needed the $ & we needed to eat & pay rent, NOW…this was very serious business.
This drummer was MASSIVE. Big foot, dead on timing, great looking natural wood kit with all new cymbals, REALLY talented with his hihat / top end work…but he was LAZY & he just didn’t want to crack down & LEARN the DAMN SONGS!
All he wanted to do was jam endlessly on every Jimi Hendrix song known to mankind, & he had a fixation on reliving the entire WHO “Live @ Leeds” album, for hours on end. I can still hear him, in my mind, playing the drum riffs to Jimi Hendrix’ “Spanish Castle Magic” for the 14th go-around! This drummer was PHENOMENAL…but that wasn’t going to get us the bookings we so desperately needed.
We finally learned enough songs to play a noon-time outdoors gig @ the nearby University…but eventually we had to give this drummer the BOOT! He was too fckn’ LAZY!
The split was very amicable, because this kid was very easy going & unstressed (because his parents were footing the bill for his dormitory, his gear, & three meals a day). We cut him loose…we kicked him out of the band…because we needed someone SERIOUS!
About 8 years later, I found myself backstage @ the Hollywood Palladium, where the POLICE were headlining.
Drummer Stewart Copeland invited me back to the dressing room, where he introduced me to Andy, while Sting was mobbed with reporters & photographers, out in the hallway.
Stewart explained to Andy how we used to play together, back in San Diego.
Andy dryly said to me “Oh my dear boy…I feel so-o-o sorry for you!”
As I sheepishly & admiringly shook my old drummer’s hand, I said “Dude, I would have never guessed...”
Stewart graciously answered, “Dude, neither did I!”
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Back in early Spring of ’72, my Ocean Beach San Diego garage bands were constantly looking for a great drummer.
This gangly kid from Cal Western / U.S. International University in Point Loma (a school for U.S. government diplomats’ offspring) showed up @ my little studio, that was filled with amps & pa gear, & completely plastered in egg crates, floor to ceiling, & about 5 layers of carpet.
This guy claimed his dad was in the C.I.A. in Beirut Lebanon, & his big brother was the road manager for Wishbone Ash, back in England. C.I.A.? Wishbone Ash?? England??? Yea, right…whatever, dude!
We were trying to amass a 50 song set list of the typical rock standards of the day that we needed to play the burgeoning beach town saloons that were booming throughout San Diego. You could clear $150 a week per man, back when rents were about $120 for a 2 bedroom apartment, if you could land a steady gig @ clubs like the Bath House in Mission Beach, Ledbetters by the College, the Cardiff Lodge by Encinitas, & the Pleasure in National City.
We needed the $ & we needed to eat & pay rent, NOW…this was very serious business.
This drummer was MASSIVE. Big foot, dead on timing, great looking natural wood kit with all new cymbals, REALLY talented with his hihat / top end work…but he was LAZY & he just didn’t want to crack down & LEARN the DAMN SONGS!
All he wanted to do was jam endlessly on every Jimi Hendrix song known to mankind, & he had a fixation on reliving the entire WHO “Live @ Leeds” album, for hours on end. I can still hear him, in my mind, playing the drum riffs to Jimi Hendrix’ “Spanish Castle Magic” for the 14th go-around! This drummer was PHENOMENAL…but that wasn’t going to get us the bookings we so desperately needed.
We finally learned enough songs to play a noon-time outdoors gig @ the nearby University…but eventually we had to give this drummer the BOOT! He was too fckn’ LAZY!
The split was very amicable, because this kid was very easy going & unstressed (because his parents were footing the bill for his dormitory, his gear, & three meals a day). We cut him loose…we kicked him out of the band…because we needed someone SERIOUS!
About 8 years later, I found myself backstage @ the Hollywood Palladium, where the POLICE were headlining.
Drummer Stewart Copeland invited me back to the dressing room, where he introduced me to Andy, while Sting was mobbed with reporters & photographers, out in the hallway.
Stewart explained to Andy how we used to play together, back in San Diego.
Andy dryly said to me “Oh my dear boy…I feel so-o-o sorry for you!”
As I sheepishly & admiringly shook my old drummer’s hand, I said “Dude, I would have never guessed...”
Stewart graciously answered, “Dude, neither did I!”
Lazy... 