My Music (part 2)

Saturday night sittin' home alone
disconnect the phone, Put those records on.
Up in my room, tryin' to find the chords
learning all the words To all my favorite songs.
I love to hear those voices talk in rhymes.
I know I've played this one a hundred times,
And I know the songs will end too soon,
When I'm listenin' to the music in my room
Up In my bed by the radio
Kept it turned so low listenin' in the dark
Closing my eyes, whispering along
Waiting for the song that always hit the mark
I counted two's and four's instead of sheep
I sailed across the Mersey in my sleep
And I knew the songs would end too soon
When I listened to the music in my room
(Music in my Room by Cheryl Wheeler)



My personal breakout was the summer of 1970 after freshman year of high-school when, following 2nd cousin Dave Gurneys advise, I got hired at Camp Kiwanee as a kitchen hand. We shared a cabin on the south end of camp with the other kitchen crew teens. Dave brought his guitar and amp, so I got to bring the Les Paul. Dave was a year older and a better player than I, and he taught me how to play bar chords along with most of the White Album – and we could play LOUD. Through High School, I would get to jam with Dave and his brother John and friends and started to learn about finger picking. Dave taught me the Beatles “Blackbird”. But it was at home in my bedroom with a record player and all of the accumulated black vinyl discs that I really immersed myself. For literally hours on end I would play records over and over, with guitar in hand, listening and copying and imitating and learning. Having never taken lessons, there was a lot of pure discovery involved. Although scales were widely known by others, I had to stumble across them for myself. I learned to hammer on and pull off and bend strings and slide up frets. I discovered I had a knack for discerning the individual notes and could even tell the hand position on the neck. Accurately copying picking patterns was a challenge I greatly enjoyed – especially when I was successful. I wore out record player needles on CSNY’s 4 Way Street, Manansas double album, Stephan Stills solo albums, James Gang Rides Again, Loggins and Messina Live, Allman Brothers Eat A Peach and Jessica, Traffic’s Low Spark Of High Healed Boys, Marshal Tucker’s Searching For A Rainbow, the Eagles Desporado and of course every Beatles from Meet the Beatles to the White Album.


These are my favorite set of changes
already good for a couple of songs
thought I might play them one more time and over again
If your still listening I hope you remember
the kid with the big white guitar
And all those sad stories to tell
(My Favorite Changes by Stephan Stills)


I enjoyed unusual chord formations and tonal expressions and would try to “invent” chords. I started to try my hand at writing my own songs while I was in high-school. Sometimes I started with words and put music to them, but equally as often I would find a chord change I liked and tried to build a song around it. Despite all of my copying, I was developing my own playing style as well – my own being a blend of Stephan Stills, James Taylor, and the Kinks Dave Davies or Neil Young. My writing style was mostly sad/wistfull lyrics with country/folk-rock flavored music. There was still lots of musical interaction with Laurie, Marly, and Eric and this caused us all to learn the songs that the others were favoring. Eric was into southern rock – Skynyrd, ZZ Top, The Band and most lead guitar dominated songs. Marlene developed a fondness for America, JT, and multilayered acoustic guitars and counterpoint vocals. Laurie seemed to like whatever we already knew but willingly would learn any new song we presented to her. I feel that this was the point in time where I (and probably each of us) came into my own. Learning new music was no longer a joint communal effort but a solo adventure, although we always came back to share what we had learned with the others. Being competitive, we each wanted to show somebody else what we had learned – and we were always willing to learn from the others as if not doing so would cause you to fall behind, so learning, sharing, teaching and being taught was a constant cycle towards improvement and a mechanism for bonding. Whatever differences we might have as siblings, sharing music could (and probably still does) prompt us to put them aside and pull together.



Now deep in the heart of a lonely kid,
suffering so much for what he did
They gave this plowboy his fortune and fame
and since that day he ain’t been the same
See the man with the stage fright
just standing up there took him all his might
But he got caught in the spotlight
and when he gets to the end
he wants to start all over again
(Stage Fright by The Band)



So senior year of high-school 1972/73 I got together with friends Mark & David Tanner and “Touch of Blue” was formed. Mark (a junior) played piano (with sheet music only) and had a Robert Goulette type Broadway Stage voice. David (a sophomore) was a violin player, which by default made him our bass player. Junior Steve Makein (or at times, his younger brother Brian) was the drummer. At various times we were joined by Lisa Tanner singing (Mark’s twin sister), Ray (a junior saxophone player), Maureen and Dianne (guitarists and singers). We played a few dances for Indian Head Jr High School and Sacred Heart High. One Indian Head dance we recruited extra horn players from the high school band and added some Chicago and Blood, Sweat & Tears songs to the repertoire. Flutist Cheri Grono became my first official girlfriend in the process.

We are riding on a railroad
singing someone else’s songs
Forever standing at the cross roads,
step aside or move along
(Riding on a Railroad by James Taylor)

Summer of 1973 after graduation, I hiked with Laurie from Harrisburg Pa to the Conn/Mass state line via the Appalachian Trail. She had learned and taught me all about packing light, but I still decided to bring along a guitar for the 400 mile trip. Mom’s Yamaha was offered and accepted and, with only a green garbage bag for protection, it rode strapped to my backpack and survived (mostly, technically it did get home in one piece) run-ins with trees and bad weather. It was played almost every night for our 4-week adventure, and was a good conversation starter with other hikers - impressed that anyone would willing carry the extra weight, but grateful for the unusual (for AT hikers) distraction and unexpected entertainment. With writing in log books or reading others entries, or occasionally playing cards, singing was the primary evening entertainment and I had lots of time to improve my finger picking. Mellow more than rock was the favored mood of the trail music, so James Taylor and CSN reigned. It resulted in a significant advancement of my playing style and ability.


Dear Mister Fantasy play us a tune,
Something to make us all happy.
Do anything, take us out of this gloom.
Sing a song, play guitar, make it snappy.
You are the one who can make us all laugh.
Doing this, you break down in tears.
Please don't be sad. If it was a straight life you had,
We wouldn’t have known you all these years
(Dear Mister Fantasy by Traffic)


Breakups and falling outs and moving ons ended the band after a couple of very fun and educational years. Jimmy Willis opened a small music shop in a storefront on the corner of Main & Phillips St. This is where I had my first encounters with the local country music community. Luke Weatherfield was a Berkley grad who taught there (he later founded the Mass Country Music Awards Association), and Arthur Foley (a local version of Chet Atkins) and a young Brockton lad named Deane Sampson (famous for having a wooden leg, tho at the time I didn’t know it) hung out there on Saturday mornings and jammed. Arthur would demonstrate, Deane would imitate, and I would watch in awe. Later I got a call from Steve who was drumming in an old-time country band. The bass player was leaving for a new band and Steve thought I should audition. Although this seemed ludicrous to me – having never attempted to play a bass before and not really knowing much country – I went, I sat in for a set, and got offered the job. So with Chuck Stevens as the band leader, I became an Echo Mountain Boy along with Steve Makein and (coincidently) Deane Sampson. Many times Arthur would appear at our gig and sit in for a set. Chuck could play every song in the world in the key of E, with A & B or a surprise F# the only other chords in his vocabulary. Chuck’s feeling for beats per measure was shaky at best. I theorize that by the end of any song, we had played the correct total number of beats, but you simply couldn’t predict which measure would get too many, too few or the proper amount. Most importantly what I learned was to listen to not so much the song, but the singer and the other musicians. This is where you would find the necessary clues to predetermine what the next chord change might be or if the beat of the song was about to change. If Chuck was short of breath, get ready to jump the chord early – if he had a good breath, hang on a bit longer. Together Steve and I got very adept at this skill. On a song I had never heard before, I could tell by listening to Deane’s (and later Mike Roberts) choice of scale progressions if the chord change was about to lead from the E to an A or to a B. Playing the bass was fun enough but I still preferred to play “Guitar”. Jam sessions filled the void. Playing with Eric and Jimmy Borgazani and Dana Colly and Brian Makein’s band-mates were terrific opportunities for musical experimentation. Jimmy went to Berkley School of Music and was into Steely Dan and chord inversions. Dana got a pickup for his Bari Sax and played Jimi Hendricks and Traffic through my Wah-Wah pedal. Eric was playing lots of lead guitar and quite well. Brians guitarist was unbelievable fast but played only original music and for the life of him couldn’t jam on Sweet Home Alabama. I had learned a lot of techniques by simply watching Deane, Arthur and Mike, and had a pretty good country feel to my playing. Musically, it was a wide range to be home on and I felt that although I wasn’t the most technically proficient player around, I could play any style with anybody well enough to fit in and contribute. In my mind, this meant that although I wasn’t a great guitar player, I was a good musician. I cling to that belief to this day.


God knows that I love my music
Ain't no one gonna change my tune
Don't ya know that I love my music
Ain't never gonna change my tune
(My Music by Loggins and Messina)