My favorite rock drummer is a guy who ended up in the Hall of Fame…
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 converted bedroom studio, that was 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 BathHouse 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. 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!”