The Beatles: My Musical Inspiration - 50 Years Later

This Sunday marks the 50^th anniversary of the Beatles’ appearance on the Ed Sullivan Show. It’s widely accepted that this performance changed the world of TV and music forever. Anyone old enough to remember it can recall that great moment on a Sunday night in February when 73 million people in the U.S. were introduced to the musical force called the Beatles. For me, it was the beginning of what I consider to be me today.

When Paul McCartney counted out the beginning of All My Loving that historic night, I was 10 years old, sitting on my parents’ bed in their room watching the TV. It was black-and-white, and had one small speaker. I was transfixed; from that time onward, I listened to the radio every minute I could. I had it on while I did my homework, or was just lying on my bed staring into space. 

I was hooked. And why not? To a boy approaching his 11^th birthday, they were heroes – cool, powerful, and they seemed to be having a great time together. Besides that, the music was brilliant. Music critics started opining about their use of unusual chords and transitions, but it was those polished three-part harmonies, generous samplings of R & B classics from American artists, and especially, that youthful energy that captivated me, and millions of others.

For my 11^th birthday, I received my own copy of Meet the Beatles, the first American album. My sitter, a teenage girl who watched us (I have two younger brothers), taught me some basic dance moves to that album for my 7^th grade dance. I remember them playing Beatles songs at the dance, including someone’s joke parody called “I Want to Hold Your Feet.”

I continued to listen to the radio enthusiastically through 1964, 1965, and 1966, hearing Beatles songs as they came out, along with their British Invasion buddies: the Rolling Stones, The Kinks, The Animals, the Hollies, the Dave Clark Five, Herman’s Hermits, Gerry and the Pacemakers, The Who, and on and on. But it was in 1967, after the Beatles retired from touring and released the mysterious Strawberry Fields Forever, that Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band appeared. 

That June, my mother, for some reason, brought home a copy of the album. I listened to it over and over and over, as I’m sure millions of other Beatle fans did. I remember sitting directly in front of the Curtis-Mathes wood stereo cabinet and looking at the texture of the speaker grilles and studying the centerfold photo of the four guys with their mustaches. I decided I had to get wire-rimmed glasses like my hero, John Lennon, and by 1968, I had them. Wearing glasses was finally cool!

Sgt. Pepper’s was an experience, from the cough and murmuring of the crowd at the beginning to the long, extended multi-piano chord that concludes A Day in the Life. It was unique, exciting, and monumental. Before long, other bands inserted odd sections and instruments into their music, too.

I used to listen to the album and strum a badminton racquet that was lying around the house. I was a bored clarinetist at the back of the section in the school band. If mom, as an amateur cellist, was the musical inspiration and album bringer, my father was the one who brought the gear. He and mom had separated the previous fall, but one day, when he came to visit us, dad brought me an electric guitar and small amplifier that some guy at work was selling. This was as important, in its own way, as hearing the Beatles on TV in 1964. Suddenly, I could start to play the songs myself! This was a big deal.

 The next spring, I got an acoustic guitar, so I could easily sit in my bedroom and play Beatle songs as much as I wanted. My friend Lisa, who lived next door, was three years younger, but would sunbathe on the other side of the fence and listen to me play. Eventually, we would sing together. Our special song was, I Will, from the The Beatles (White Album).

The energy and amazing changes of 1964’s music lasted, for me, through the White Album in November of 1968, but by 1969, Beatle songs didn’t have the same impact, as times and tastes changed. The whole radio scene was changing. The sense of the four musicians being a unit had long disappeared, as they grew up and became more individuated. I grew up too, although I still played my guitar. I even started to write my own songs, emulating my heroes.

In 1969, I moved to Arizona, and took my guitars with me. In my loneliness, I wrote more songs, and also spent time with a particular girl, listening to Abbey Road, much in the way I had sat alone in front of that stereo in 1967 with Sgt. Pepper.  I tried to form a band with a couple of friends, but, despite acquiring a fantastic Fender amplifier (worth a fortune today, if I still had it), it went nowhere. Then, in the spring, the Beatles broke up, right as I graduated from high school. The world changed again.

Back in California in 1970 and 1971, I bought and listened to John, Paul, and George’s initial solo albums. There was some great material on there (Imagine, Maybe I’m Amazed, My Sweet Lord), but it wasn’t the same. I tried being a solo “Dylan understudy” in San Francisco clubs for a little while, but it was intimidating for an 18-year-old suburbanite, and I quickly let it go, instead pursuing music at San Francisco State University. That lasted one semester. “Sorry, no guitar majors.” I eventually became an English major and graduated, years later.

In 1972, I got the urge to play the electric bass. I’m not sure, looking back, why exactly, but I remember liking the sounds Paul made with his violin-style Hofner. I took the only thing I had of value, my coin collection, and traded it for a green Fender-style bass in a pawn shop in the Tenderloin. Who needed those old coins anyway? 

I didn’t even have an amplifier yet, but I took my new treasure home and plunked away on it, finger style, hoping for something to happen. It wasn’t long before someone broke into my ground-floor apartment and stole my beloved bass. That was the end of that experiment—before it had a chance to develop.

After that, I played guitar occasionally for fun. I recorded some of my songs in 1971 at a friend’s house, and that recording exists today. I took my acoustic guitar to Israel in 1974 and impressed the natives with my rendition of “House of the Rising Sun” and various Beatles tunes, but I left it there when I came home. It needed repairs.

Shortly after I graduated from college, I bought a nice, modestly priced acoustic guitar to replace the one I’d given away five years earlier. I played bluegrass mandolin in a Sunday pickup band in 1980. My first wife and I sang a few times together (she performs wonderfully with a Jazz trio today). But after that, it wasn’t until 2003, as I approached my 50^th birthday, that I decided that it was time to get my bass.

Where do these ideas come from? My younger son was taking guitar lessons, so I was visiting the music store every week. My old longing was rekindled. But now, my coin collection long gone, I mentioned it to my beloved and supportive wife, who said, “Why don’t you just go buy one?” So, there you have it. Mom supplied Sgt. Pepper’s, dad the first guitar, my son inspired me with his guitar lessons, and now, my darling spouse gave me the OK to go get the instrument of my dreams.

I shopped, and found a lovely Fender bass. It has a sunburst finish, with aluminum pick guard, and combines the classic “Precision” body with a “Jazz” neck. Although I was already a guitar player, I decided to take a few bass lessons, to get up to speed. I started weekly lessons with Dennis, a guy about my age with a ponytail who had a lifetime of musical experience. We worked on a variety of songs that I picked, new and old, and I found that playing the bass felt natural. Dennis encouraged me to find other musicians to play with. I now understand the importance of this. Music is much more than lessons. It’s a living thing that happens when people play together.

Thanks to Dennis’ suggestion, and references from the music store, I found three other musicians, and we started our own band! After all these years, I was the bass player in a band. Red Paint lasted for six years, and although we didn’t get rich or famous, we played gigs and even recorded a CD! It was a dream come true. We duplicated the Beatles in being a foursome on guitars, bass and drums. We even played a few Beatles songs – I got to do my version of You’ve Got to Hide Your Love Away, a Lennon-penned favorite.

Once again, I don’t know exactly where this urge came from, but it had something to do with a little foldable list of recommended albums that featured the bass. Sgt. Pepper’s was on the list, but I also started listening to some music I hadn’t heard before, including some great Jazz recordings. I became aware of the rich tones of the upright bass on Jazz and some folk and bluegrass albums. Paul Chambers! Ray Brown! I found one of those old-fashioned advertisements on the wall of a music store, with little pull-off tabs at the bottom with the teacher’s name and phone number. I called and set up my first acoustic bass lesson in July of 2004.

Maybe having the cello around the house growing up helped, but I moved over to the upright bass pretty easily. After an enjoyable first lesson using his bass, Damon, my new teacher, took me to a fine old music store in downtown Oakland, where I rented my own big brown bass. What was I thinking? I started on the basic orange book—the Simandl method -- but also fooled around with some Jazz tunes. Damon was the right guy for me – young and helpful and he didn’t treat me like a beginner.

After a year or so of this, I took the summer off to think about it. I decided to continue, and at that point, I traded my loaner for a real bass of my own. It’s a beauty, hand-carved in China and I still play it almost every day.

There’s more still to this story. In 2006, I got to play in a Beatles cover band, Fab Fever. What could be better than that? I was still finding my way on the bass, but we did have a great time while it lasted. Although I left that group to focus my energies on Red Paint, today, I still play with one member of that group, Frank. We’re Two of Us, and as a duo, we run through a range of Beatles songs, and some other fine material. Hey—the Beatles played covers, too. Frank has a rich baritone, so we inevitably sing the Beatles’ songs in a lower key. I still have many friendships from the Fab Fever group, and we’ve played summer outdoor concerts affiliated with the Odd Fellows.

In late 2006, just around the time that my Red Paint group got started, I got a flyer in the mail for the local Adult School. In it, I saw a listing for a community orchestra. I hadn’t thought about that, but why not? I signed up.

On January 2, 2007, I hauled my upright bass to a rehearsal at a private home. It was a week before rehearsals would begin at the school. Not knowing a soul, I stood in the back and tried to play what was on the music. I hit a few notes, and despite my frustration and embarrassment, I enjoyed being with the group. I especially liked the conductor, Josh. With a smile, he came over to talk with me. I apologized for hitting so few notes, and he said, “Well, come on back next week and you can play some more!” I did, and that was the beginning of what’s now a seven-year position in the Castro Valley Adult School Chamber Orchestra. I’m the principal bassist there now. I’ve played three or four concerts a year of the greats – Beethoven, Dvorak, Mozart, and many others. 

From that orchestra connection, I’ve picked up chamber music, playing in small groups, including quarterly weekends locally and two one-week-long summertime visits to the fantastic Humboldt Chamber Music Workshop. There is not much better on this earth than living in the dorms, eating in the cafeteria with your fellow musicians, and playing beautiful music all day and all night. I came home both times from my “grown up music camp” inspired and energized.

Today? I’m a member of Tablues, a blues and R&B band. We played 20 gigs in the second half of last year, and we’ve recorded some nice demos. I’m still with the orchestra. I am playing a Beethoven Septet with a private chamber music group that found me last year to help them with Schubert’s Trout Quintet, which needs a bass! I’ve played the Trout often over the last few years, pleasing musicians who enjoy the deep sound. Most chamber music doesn’t include bass.

Thank you, John, Paul, George and Ringo, for starting me off on my musical path. And also, thanks to Mom, Dad, Cathy, Cameron, Joy, Dennis, Damon, Frank, Josh, Red Paint, Fab Fever, The Castro Valley Chamber Orchestra, Sycamore 129 Blues Band, Tablues, Kenneth, and all my other musical friends and colleagues, who’ve made it possible.

Bassist Bob Babbitt - Bye Bye

Even though James Jamerson played the lion's share of bass parts for the Motown hits, Bob Babbitt has his time too. Reading his obit in Bass Player magazine tonight, I see that he appeared on more than 200 hit singles and more than 25 gold records.

Great songs, like Cool Jerk, by the Capitols. Smokey Robinson's Tears of a Clown. How about Stevie Wonder's Signed, Sealed Delivered? Midnight Train to Georgia by Gladys Knight? Great stuff.

Sometimes, it's these unsung but wonderful studio musicians that make life great for radio listeners like me. Bob got some notoriety when the Funk Brothers (the Motown studio musicians' unofficial name) were featured in the 2002 documentary film, Standing in the Shadows of Motown. I saw Bob all the time in ads in Bass Player, too.

Bob died on July 17th of complications of brain cancer, which he fought as long as he could. He was (only) 74.

Humboldt Chamber Music Workshop--Day One

Rossini

The chamber music workshop week always begins with a group meeting in the  main theater to learn the details of the week's activities and anything else you  might want to know to get around. This being my second time up here, I had a good idea of what to expect. Alan Geier, the workshop director, explained it all in his friendly, humorous way, welcoming us back--and helping to relax the newcomers. We learned where to get the music (the music library), details of the schedule, Do's and Don't's, things to watch out for, and the rest.

Then, we were released to go crowd around the posted lists of who's playing what with whom where. I got assigned to some Rossini quartets that include bass, in the Art Building. Luckily, it's just across from the main theater, but I still had to climb up the Music Building stairs (no elevator during construction) and grab my bass before I went there. But I arrived and found my musical companions.

One of the many beauties of the workshop is that you play a different piece, with different people, each day. Also, the professional coaches rotate, too, so you get the guidance of different experts. Since I'm the only bassist signed up (as usual) there is never a "bass coach," but our cellist coach was great at guiding the group to play well together.

First, we looked at the three Rossini quartets on our music stands and then decided on one to run through. We then isolated the particular section we would be devoting the day's efforts to "perfecting" and went with that. You have to do this to get good enough at it to do well in the afternoon recital.

Gioachino Rossini is best known for his opera, The Barber of Seville, and the piece we worked on had an operatic quality, with expressive voices from the different instruments. The violin even gets to "laugh." I had two sections of solo work that I was able to pull off during the afternoon performance. Whew.

Things started coming together and improved over the day. We had our first session, then took a break in the courtyard with coffee and snacks. I've always liked this part, both for the social pleasures but also to get a break for my hands--and my eyes. Unfortunately, I am the ONLY person who stands all day, and this is more standing. I really should find someplace to sit down.

I lollygagged a little longer, and found my cohorts already there when I returned. We worked on our quartet--two violins, a cello and me on bass--through until lunch, with direction from Carol, our coach. It's hard sometimes to sync your playing with the other musicians--but therein lies beauty and satisfaction. We gradually tune in to the others. Intonation improves, the speed increases, we get more even, and play sections in which we share the melody or pattern in the same way so it sounds euphonious.

In the afternoon, we played late in the first of the two hourly sessions. Just after we played, we went off to dinner. It seems like there's lots of eating at these events. The food is OK--but it is "dorm fare" and I heard some grumblings about the consistency and flavor of the chicken. We went back for another hour of fine performances--every group seemed to be aware of the five-minute rule so it rolled through. Then--off to freelancing.

Freelancing gives you a choice to play what you want when you've completed your daily assignment. I played the Schubert's Trout Quintet--a favorite of chamber music players because of its beauty and also it seems to be the first piece anyone thinks of that includes a bass. We bassists are not in the center of chamber music but on the periphery. So--I'm glad to play it, and usually, at least one of the five of us is doing it for the first time--exciting and challenging. We played it fairly slowly, but the group focused and really heated up the room. At last, it came to its satifying conclusion and we packed up and headed back to the dorms for a little alcohol, snacks and conversation.

And so ended the first day. Today, we do it all over again.

Happy to Play the Blues

I just played bass this afternoon with some talented musicians at Gary Lamb's monthly Blues Jam at the Bistro in Hayward. It was my first time playing there--I've enjoyed listening and drinking good beers on tap before but had never ascended to the small stage.

I must admit I was just a little nervous, since it was a new thing for me, but I didn't really feel unprepared, either. They called out the key and I just jumped in. This was a rite of passage, in a way, because I played with people I'd never met and was able to fit in and sound good. That's a milestone in a bass-playing career that started only nine years ago.

It's not that difficult to play the Blues bass--if you're had some practice. I've been hanging with my buds (dawgs) lately, putting together a show for August 12th, and I think my blues playing has definitely moved up a notch. It's ironic, though. The Blues are about pain and suffering but playing them is such bliss.

The lead guitarists I played with--and listened to later--were amazingly good. That's where the real mind-blowing performances come from. And the bassist who followed me,Vic, was incredible. I took notes--and he was friendly afterwards as we compared bass tattoos. He got terrific sound from his 1964 Fender Precision. We had fine drummers and harmonica wizards as well.

I'll be heading on over there next month to do it again!

Red Paint CD Release Party Tonight - a Culmination

Tonight, Red Paint, an Alameda, California-based four-piece rock band, takes the stage at its first ever CD Release Party. It's the culmination of everything the group has worked for since it started up in lead guitarist Shaun Reid's livingroom in October of 2006. It also features Colin Close as lead singer and rhythm guitarist, Tony Herrin on drums and me on bass. Colin writes most of our original material.

For me, it began long before 2006. Sure, I got my Fender Precision Bass Special on my birthday in 2003, but my actual first bass goes back to when I was just 18, living alone in semi-poverty in San Francisco. I had dreamed of bass playing for years, perhaps from listening to Paul McCartney's brilliant work with the Beatles and other 1960's pop music. In any case, I was strumming my guitar and trying to start a modest career as a soloist in the image of, say, Bob Dylan. It was going slowly, with open mike nights at the Coffee Gallery in San Francisco's North Beach and a few little parties and events.

In any case, I decided to take my sole item of value--my coin collection--to a pawn shop in the Tenderloin and acquire a bass. I must have read about Jazz musicians doing this, I don't know. In any case, there was a green Fender-style solid-body electric bass. I made the swap, and saw all those remarkably unworn 19th-century Indian pennies, along with my $2-1/2 gold piece, slip away forever.

I took my new possession home and plunked away on it for a while, but, without an amplifier, I wasn't much good to anyone. Sadly, not too much later, someone broke into my ground-floor apartment and stole my bass. I figured it was a message. I devoted my energies thenceforth to my college education and tried to forget about bass playing, although I did still strum and sing with my guitar over the years and spent one fun year playing bluegrass mandolin.

A 50th birthday is a milestone. I decided, in lieu of a Ferrari or an affair, to acquire the bass I always wanted. I advanced this idea to my supportive wife and she said, "Go get it!"

After some shopping around I settled on the electric bass I still play most of the time. Although I acquired two other bass guitars over the years, and have made a whole second project with the upright bass, I stand today ready to play our band's 11-song CD (all original songs) live in front of as many friends and relatives as are willing to answer an EVITE and actually show up. You can hear some of it on our Facebook page.

We recorded this music a while ago, in two different studios, but it took a while to plan the event and get the date. We are excited to offer a second set of new original songs and a few covers in our second set. For our fans, it's a chance to hear something new from the band. You really have no good excuse for not being there, unless, of course, you're reading this in Anchorage, Alaska or Peru or Poland.

I always wanted to be in a band, was drawn to bass playing since Nixon was president, and love music. What could be better than this?

Red Paint plays at High Street Station in Alameda, California on Saturday, January 21, 2012 from 7 - 10 p.m.

Jack Casady - Bassman Then and Now

I remember the thumping sound of Jack Casady's bass playing in Somebody to Love and other songs by the Jefferson Airplane. I also see an ad in the June 2011 issue of Bass Player showing Jack, who's now a great deal older, playing like a madman on the Epiphone Jack Casady Signature Bass--in an ad for the guitar maker. Looks like a fine instrument.

I have a CD--Jack's first solo effort, from 2003, called Dream Factor. On it, he plays fine and low with hand-picked musicians on a variety of cuts. Still a great listen.

I met Jack for about 10 seconds once in 1971. I was coming out of a health food store in San Francisco and saw him--looking unmistakably like the guy in the photo above--and he was trying to carry a load of gallon jugs of cider. I asked if he needed any help. He said, "No," and that was it.

Now, he's one of my bass heroes. The sound he made in those early years is part of my inspiration.

Double Double Bass

It can get lonely in the back corner of the orchestra when you're the only bass player. Tonight, I got company, when Devon, a young woman with a blonde bass, was already there. Her bass had a pleasing tone, and she promptly sightread her way through the parts.

The sound, with two (or more) members of the lowest part in the string section, gives the orchestra more punch, greater presence, and it's sure easier and more fun for me.

The concert date -- May 29th--is approaching, but it should go well now.

Bassist/Singer Esperanza Spalding Wins Grammy for Best New Artist

I saw Esperanza Spalding a couple of years ago at Yoshi's. She's phenomenal, and as a bassist, I'd read about her in Bass Player magazine. I even got to say hello for a moment as she signed CDs after the show.

Now, the Berklee School graduate--and teacher!-- has beaten out Justin Bieber for best new artist--a sign that they're picking real talent this year.

See the story at PopEater for details, but also be sure to download her latest CD--Chamber Music Society (and any of the others as well).

Bass Power!

Here's an idea--six brilliant young musicians from Slovakia, Russia, Czech Republic, White Russia, Yugoslavia, Georgia and Ukraine perform together--on basses! Founded in 1996, Bassiona Amorosa plays a wide repertoire, including music from the early renaissance, baroque and classical period to arrangements of light music.

I have heard eight basses perform at one time, and have a CD of The London Double Bass Sound--which includes a dozen musicians playing my favorite instrument together.

There is a wide range of tones on the bass, depending on whether you play the low, middle or high notes, and you pluck (pizzicato) or use a bow (arco) to get sharp or extended tones. Of course every musician is a little different and every piece is unique, so I never get tired of listening to bass music. And, of course, it puts the "bottom" in whenever it's part of the group.

Next Sunday, I will play with the Chamber Musicians of Northern California (CMNC) on the Mozart Gran Partita, which includes 12 various wind instruments and me--the only string player--holding down the foundation with my bass. Sweet.

My Tattoo

On December 4, I went into Everlasting Tattoo in San Francisco to get my two basses permanently drawn on my left arm. The photo at the left shows my first tattoo after five days, when the initial swelling is gone.

Why would I do this?

Until quite recently, I believed that tattoos were favored only by sailors, who, on a drunken leave, staggered into a tiny tattoo parlor in some foreign port. Or, they were popular with motorcycle gang members, with Harley-Davidson marked in ink somewhere on their bodies. In more recent years, I’ve seen a lot of teenage girls getting “tramp stamps”—permanent decorations to fill the area between their waists and rear cleavage left open by dramatic, low slung pants designs. I certainly have never identified with or particularly been interested in any of those ink customers.

That all changed when my son, Cameron, got a beautiful tattoo done on his chest. We paid for it as an 18th birthday gift and high school graduation commemoration. I was so impressed by the work of Doug Hansen, the artist, that I commissioned him to do one for me.

I took in a sketch and Doug created a very quick drawing from it--already improving it tremendously (see left). He later sent me another, more finished drawing. I felt it needed its proportions changed, and he sent a third drawing. That was the one we used as a basis for my actual tattoo. In fact, Doug used a method of transferring the art directly to my arm to use as a pattern.



The drawing to the left shows the final artwork before going it was applied to my arm. I enjoyed looking at this image over and over while waiting impatiently for the day when it would become part of me.

The process of being tattooed is pretty simple. You lie down (or sit--depending on the part being worked on). The artist cleans and shaves the area. Then, he or she applies the design--or at least Doug did. The artist could work freehand. Then, he or she uses an electric needle tool to etch the design into your skin.

Yes, it hurts--but the pain is manageable, and with the release of endorphins, you begin to separate from it. My tattoo took about 2-1/2 hours to apply after the initial preparation.

Afterwards, you wear plastic wrap over it for a few hours, then begin applying A&D ointment for a few days, then switch to skin lotion. The important thing is to avoid picking at the tiny scabs that appear so you don't lose any of the image.

I love my tattoo, and am scheduled to go back next month to have more detail and some color applied to the instruments.