The Old Boy Pretending To Be Nineteen Again, Part II

I arrived twenty minutes early for my first RCX rehearsal.  I mostly wanted to make sure that the drums were set up in the same format I was used to.  The studio has an in-house drum kit, and the drummers in each camp are free to arrange them any way they wish.  Worst case scenario would be having a left-handed drummer being the last guy to use the RCX kit before you.  Luckily for me, the drums were precisely how I liked them, given the equipment at hand.  The main differences between the RCX kit and the one I have in the cobwebbed basement of the Quentin Estates is that the RCX kit has one instead of two "ride" tom toms (i.e., attached to the bass drum), and there are two crash cymbals at the studio instead of one.  It did not take long to adjust to the discrepancy.

The first person I met before practice was the lead guitarist, Alex.  (Just as in Part I, I am using fictitious names here.)  He quickly informed me that this would be his sixty-second camp.  What??  I had been under the impression that RCX alums were all in 301 camps.  What was he doing here in a 201?  Also, what if the other four band members, i.e., everyone but me, were also RCX alums?  As it turned out, that was exactly the case.  I would be the only new kid on the block.  (I use the term "kid" loosely, as I was at least fifteen years older than the next oldest bandmate.)

The remaining campers arrived before 7:00, and they all knew each other, at least to varying degrees.  The second guitarist was Paul.  His day job was being a radiologist, and once or twice he showed up from work with his blue med shirt on.  He is the only bandmate whose occupation I learned.  The bass player was Kerry, a name I intentionally chose for this post because, for some reason, I inexplicably called him by that erroneous name periodically.  I guess he "looked like" a Kerry to me.  (His real name does begin with a "K.")  Tammy and Sara were the keyboardist and lead singer, respectively.  Although there had been an introductory round of emails, this was my first opportunity to meet my bandmates in person.  I found them to have the right mixture of friendliness and seriousness.  We were all there to have an enjoyable experience, but on the other hand we had each plunked down money to form a band, as it were, so there was work to be done.

Although Rock Camp had assigned a fellow named Terry to be our coach, he had a gig with his own band that first evening, so Henry, the same coach who auditioned me in April, subbed for him.  Henry enthusiastically welcomed the six of us, then had us briefly introduce ourselves to our bandmates and explain why we chose the Foreigner camp.  The first two to speak were Paul and Kerry, both probably in their early forties.  They stated that even though they were too young to remember when Foreigner was cranking out hits, they were still big fans.  Then it was my turn.  My statement was that, unfortunately, I was not too young to recall Foreigner's heyday.  In fact, I was one of their contemporaries, just three years younger than Mick Jones and three years older than Lou Gramm and Dennis Elliott.

After the intros Henry gave us a preview of what was in store for that first session and the remaining three.  The plan for the first session was to dig into the first three songs designated by RCX for this camp.  Then, in the next two succeeding weeks we'd add somewhere between three to five more Foreigner songs.  For the fourth and final session, we would rehearse the six to eight songs in our repertoire, to be followed by an in-studio performance open to the public.  Henry emphasized that even though this was advertised as a 201 camp, the music we'd be playing was closer in structure and complexity to what the 301 camps typically played.  This news didn't appear to surprise or cause consternation among any of us.  Given the fact that the Foreigner songs we'd most likely be playing were hits we’d heard before, we individually had the confidence we could "git 'er done."

The first two songs we tackled were Feels Like The First Time and Hot Blooded, two of my three favorite Foreigner songs.  Henry played each song over the sound system; then we would play it ourselves.  I quickly realized that these musicians in the room were excellent players.  Even on just the first or second time through a song, the similarity between our sound and the recorded original was surprisingly close.  This camp was going to be even better than I had  predicted.  It sure beat playing alone to the lo-fi records in my basement.

Not long into the session I realized I would have to make at least two changes.  First, the decibel level in the studio was very high, much louder than anywhere I had played before.  This was both good and bad.  The good part, obviously, was that I could easily hear the other instruments and the vocals, and always knew where we were in any given song.  (When I drummed in college we did not have monitors.  Our speakers and amplifiers were aimed out toward the crowd, making it sometimes tough for me to hear the guitars.)  The negative was that I had to hit the skins harder than what I was used to so that the percussion would not be overwhelmed.  It might sound like a minor tweak, but having to put more energy into each stroke requires more strength and stamina.  Good thing I'd been doing those twelve ounce curls all these years!

The second change was another that doesn't sound like that big a deal, but took some getting used to.  In my college bands, if the first notes of a song required more than one instrument to start simultaneously, our lead guitarist would simply count down verbally.  As an example, the most famous verbal countdown in music history is arguably the intro to the Beatles' I Saw Her Standing There, with Paul McCartney shouting, "One, two, three, four!" or "One, two, three, bomb!" right before the guitars kick in.  At RCX, the coach preferred that the drummer supply the countdown by hitting the two drumsticks together.  Seems easy enough, except that the cadence of my clashing of sticks was supposed to match the beat of the song we were about to play.  When we got to the point in the third session where we were playing seven different songs, it was not always easy, going by memory, to nail each unique beat in the countdown.

We usually took a five to ten minute break after the first hour.  On that first night, we sat around a table in the front of the building and voted on which Foreigner songs we wanted to put in our repertoire in addition to the three pre-selected by RCX, viz., the two we started with plus Urgent.  Henry stated that it was more important to try to perfect, say, six songs than it would be to play seven or eight songs merely adequately.  Based on what he'd heard so far, he thought we could learn a total of seven songs but trying for eight would be stretching it.  No argument there.

Juke Box Hero and Double Vision, the third of my three favorite Foreigner tunes, quickly garnered the most support for set list inclusion.  Sara, our lead singer and probably the band member with the best sense of humor, told us that it had always been her dream to sing Dirty White Boy in a band.  Well, why not!?  Plus, it's a great song to drum to!  DWB became our sixth song.    

As our break extended for another five to ten minutes, we bantered some more, throwing out ideas for a seventh Foreigner tune in case we made it to seven.  Alex opined that he definitely did not want us to tackle I Want To Know What Love Is, even though it was Foreigner's biggest hit.  "There is nothing for the guitars to do in that song," he pointed out.  Thinking back to my observation of the Beatles camp playing You've Got To Hide Your Love Away (a song without drums, as mentioned in Part I), I concurred.  We joked about bringing in a choir to back us up, just as Foreigner did on the original.  Toward the end of our break we all came to an agreement on a seventh song, Cold As Ice.

Back we went into the studio to have a go at Urgent.  Henry had wisely saved this song for last mainly because, of the three we were trying that night, Urgent was by far the hardest to learn.  From my perspective, it was definitely the most difficult to get into because the first notes are played by a single guitar (for this song, Paul) and then the drums come in at what, for the first several seconds, sounds offbeat.  It isn't until the fifth bar that the instruments are in synch, but yet that's how Mick Jones wrote the song.  (Note: Other examples of songs in which the drums' entrance initially sounds offbeat are I Cant Let Go by the Hollies, and Go Your Own Way by Fleetwood Mac.)  When the band finally kicks in together at that fifth bar, it does sound pretty cool.

Our band put great effort into getting Urgent right.  We needed several "takes" of the entire song, and then there were other times when Henry would cue the original on the sound system to particular places mid-song where we had meandered a little off course.  It was during the rehearsing of Urgent that I came to appreciate fully what amazing things a talented keyboard player can do to supplement a song.  The song contains a long saxophone break which, on the original, was played by the pride of South Bend, Indiana, Junior Walker of Junior Walker & The All Stars.  (Surely you have heard their big hit, Shotgun, on oldies radio.)  During our break we had discussed with Henry the possibility of bringing in a saxophonist just to play this one song.  Henry replied that he thought it would amount to "too many moving parts," so the idea was eighty-sixed.  No problem; Tammy to the rescue.  She was able to "patch" a sax sound into her keyboards to replicate the original recording.  If someone were only hearing the audio, he'd swear there was a sax player in the band.  Amazing!  Urgent turned out to be one of our best songs.

****

I know you don't want the blow-by-blow of all the other sessions, so I shall accommodate your wish by offering a simple overview.  As we advanced into the second and third week, our playing became tighter.  Terry, the RCX coach who had to miss the first session, seemed impressed by the progress we were making. He reiterated two of the statements made by his colleague, Henry, in week one.  First, "We're not here to see how many songs you can add to your repertoire.  Our goal is to master the songs we do rehearse.  The number of songs is only of secondary concern."  Second, a refrain he repeated every week: "These songs are much more like a 301 camp than a 201."

In the second and third weeks we would first run through the songs we already had down, then added one song at a time.  I tried to practice on my own drums at least every other day, mixing it up between the Foreigner songs from before with the new ones we would be playing at the next rehearsal.  It was almost like having a homework assignment, only far more enjoyable.  I knew my bandmates were doing the same thing.  With only three sessions before our public gig, it could be no other way.  It also helped the we were covering Foreigner's original tracts, so when we were listening and practicing any particular song on our own, it was all to the same recording.

As I wrote in Part I, trying to emulate Foreigner's drummer, Dennis Elliott, can be an arduous task.  He is fast, energetic and creative.  It is said that Rolling Stones' drummer Charlie Watts never misses a beat.  I would say the same about Elliott.  Within a three verse song, he rarely does the same thing twice.  Some of his divergencies are subtle, but yet they are present.  Elliott uses a double-bass in his kit.  I have never played on a kit with a double bass, but I do love the sound.  If you listen to the drums at the end of the guitar intro to Double Vision, you will hear it.  To come as close as possible with a single bass on that tune, I had to improvise by using the ride tom and the floor tom.  I think it worked, but a double bass would have been cooler.

One of the many keys to Foreigner songs is the background singing.  Our band was fortunate to have not only Sara as lead singer, with the perfect personality to front the group, but also Tammy, who contributed excellent backup vocals and harmony.  Alex played lead guitar on most of the songs, but offered that responsibility to Paul if Paul wanted to take a shot.  The two played the guitar parts seamlessly.  Kerry, who positioned himself close to the drums, was a great teammate for our rhythm section.

On the evening of June 26 we gathered as usual at 7:00 for our fourth and final time.  During the first forty-five minutes we ran through the seven Foreigner songs we had been playing.  We only had time to go over each one once.  There would not be time to add another, eighth tune.  Our coach, Terry, game us a pep talk, telling us we were great and advising us to enjoy the moment.  At 7:45 the doors would be opened.  It would then be time for the Grande Finale.       

The Old Boy Pretending To Be Nineteen Again, Part I

John, what was the most interesting or fun thing you did last summer?

-  The beautiful Sister Janetina, my fourth grade teacher (September 1956)

I have had about 50 people ask me about the Rock Camp in which I participated last summer, so maybe I should write about it.  Oh, wait... Did I just type "50"?  I meant to type "05."  Not to be discouraged, I hereby plod on.

You already know most of the history of my illustrious drumming career from having read my April 30, 2014 post, The Tom Tom Thumper.  Since the days of the Dark Ages and Lemon Oil Mahogany, I had only drummed twice in public before this year.  The first time was in December 2007.  Mary and I threw a combination retirement/Christmas party at the Legion in Bloomington, and hired an oldies band, Teen King & The Princes, to play a couple of sets.  The real name of "Teen King" is Pat Fitzgerald, the husband of one of Mary's good friends and the band's lead singer.  We made the mistake of telling him beforehand that this was definitely not to be advertised or considered a birthday party for me -- I had recently turned 60 -- so, of course Pat could hardly wait to announce to the crowd more than once that this was, in fact, my birthday party and everyone should congratulate me accordingly.

At some time during his band's second set, after I had consumed several brews, Pat called me up to sit in as the drummer for a rockin’ cover of Del Shannon's # 1 hit from 1961, Runaway.  I did not want to do it, as I had not drummed with a live band in almost forty years, and obviously had not rehearsed with the Princes.  But not wanting to be called a chicken for failing to accept what amounted to a dare, I went up on the stage and got behind the kit.  Luckily, the Princes' version was almost identical to Shannon's original which I was very familiar with, and the song was and is a great one to drum to.  The thing I recall most is that Michael helped my eighty-eight year old mom, The Pook, get close to the stage so she could see me.  I will always remember the smile on her face.  It was the first and only time she had ever seen me play with a band.

Before I could make a graceful exit Pat insisted I sit in for one more song, Johnny Rivers' # 2 hit from 1964, Memphis.  That went well too, although it is not as good a song for a drummer as Runaway.

The second post-college public appearance was Jill and Luke's wedding ceremony in January 2015.  Once again, I was not crazy about the idea of drumming, but it's hard to say "no" to your baby girl's wedding request.  Jill wanted Michael and Luke's bluegrass band, Luke Warm & The Cool Hands, to play during the ceremony, and asked me to sit in with them on Stand By Be.  That song was originally sung by Ben E. King in 1961, becoming even more famous with the 2008 international music project Playing For Change.   Although it is a meaningful song, especially in a wedding context, Stand By Me does not really call for a drummer; just a little dose of percussion suits the tune just fine.  Nevertheless, I wisely remembered the old wedding day adage, "It's all about the bride."  Therefore, I set up a snare and a high hat and was good to go.  I was honored to be asked and to play behind such terrific musicians and a wonderful singer, Jill's friend Natalie Catron.

****

So now, finally, we come to my Rock Camp adventure.  The company used to be called "Rock Camp For Dads" but, partially due to the participation of a noteworthy percentage of female singers and musicians, changed to the degenderized moniker "Rock Camp Experience," sometimes abbreviated to "RCX."  For a fee, RCX puts together groups to learn several songs of a particular artist or genre as selected by the company.  The participants are mostly people who are not currently playing in a band but would like the opportunity to play or sing with other similarly situated people who share their musical taste.  The organization furnishes a coach to help the group turn into an actual, albeit temporary, band.  The coaches are accomplished musicians and are well-versed in the artist or genre being played.  Each group meets at the Rock Camp studio in St. Louis Park once a week for four weeks.  The small studio has a top notch sound system and decent equipment.  Each session lasts two and a-half hours.

RCX conducts several camps every month, with each camp falling into one of three levels: 101, which is mostly for folks who can play or sing but have never been in a band before; 301 is for RCX "alums," and 201 is for everybody else. The camp I signed up for, a 201, was Foreigner, a classic rock band from the seventies and eighties with many hit anthems to their credit.  My taking the plunge was a long time a-comin'.

I first became aware of Rock Camp about five or six years ago when I saw an advertisement for a show at Bunkers in the North Loop.  Each 301 camp typically plays a set at a bar shortly after their camp term concludes.  For years, all of these shows were at Bunkers and were open to the public for a nominal cover.  I attended a half-dozen of these shows and got on Rock Camp's mailing list.  I entertained thoughts of signing up, but in order for that to happen, three boxes have to be checked off.  First, the designated artist for the camp must play music I enjoy.  That excludes most punk, new wave, rap, electronica and head-banging tunes.  Second, the music's drum parts need not be prominent, but I want them to be integral to the songs.  To illustrate a time when that was missing, RCX once offered a Beatles camp, but one of the six songs the campers played at Bunkers was You've Got To Hide Your Love Away.  No drums there, only a tambourine.  Understandably, the drummer looked bored.

The third box is calendar clearance, and for me it was the most problematic.  When you sign up for a camp you are committing to a rehearsal on the same night of the week for four consecutive weeks.  Over the past couple of years RCX offered camps I would have joined but distant travel plans, summer sojourns at the cabin or other local commitments interfered.  For example, there was a Rolling Stones camp I wanted to try about a year ago, but my calendar was already plugged for one or two of the four nights.  (In case you're wondering, no, they were not going to play As Tears Go By, another drumless tune.)

The Foreigner camp was perfect for me.  Check, check and check, and it was designated as a 201.  When I told Momma Cuan I was thinking of "camping," one of her first questions was, "Do you think you can drum as well as the guys you've seen at Bunkers?"  Ordinarily my reply to that kind of question would be "Maybe."  But this time my response was a bold "Yes."  A drummer needs to be confident.  (Plus, it was true.)

When RCX advertises each new camp, it lists the first three songs which the campers will learn and perform.  For the Foreigner camp, those selections were Feels Like The First Time, Hot Blooded and Urgent, all songs I'd heard dozens of times and which had enough drum facets to make it worthwhile for me.  I quickly notified RCX I was down, then sent in my money.  Within a few days they called me in for an audition.  In truth, they refrained from actually calling it an audition, but that's what it was.  (They used the euphemism "camper assessment.")  I drove to the studio where I met one of the coaches, Henry (a fictitious name, as are all the remaining people identified herein), a friendly young guy who inquired about my music background.  After about fifteen minutes he said, "Well, what would you like to play?"  They want to make sure you can actually play the instrument you claim.  I had figured this might happen so I opted for Hot Blooded, the Foreigner song I had practiced the most at home beforehand.  Henry put the original Foreigner track on the powerful audio system and listened to me play along through the first couple of versus and the chorus.  Then something cool happened.  He had strapped on his electric guitar and played along with me (and the record) for the rest of the song.  Great fun!  I was pumped for the camp to begin.

****

Before I go further I should present a little information capsule about Foreigner, and why I was excited to play their music.  The band was formed in New York City in 1976.  As I have written in other music posts, this was the era when pop was giving way to rock, the music was becoming more complex, and radio stations were willing to give air time to songs running over three and a-half or even four minutes.  Foreigner, a six man band, was fronted by lead guitarist Mick Jones, an Englishman, and lead singer Lou Gramm, an American.  The nationalities of the other four members were split evenly, two Brits and two Yanks.  Hence the name "Foreigner" made a lot of sense, and besides that, it was clever.

During its eleven year reign on the charts, Foreigner had sixteen Top 40 hits, nine of which breached the Top 10.  Their very first release, Feels Like The First Time, was a smash, hitting number 4 and staying on the Billboard list for over five months.  In fact their first eight singles, covering a thirty-two month span, all reached the Top 40.  They instantly became international superstars.

Finally, here is an ironic nugget.  Although the group is known as a high energy, hard rockin' band, their two biggest commercial successes were ballads, Waiting For A Girl Like You, a number 2 hit from 1981, and 1984's I Want To Know What Love Is, their only single to ever reach number 1.

For the better part of two months, May and June, I did not listen to any music other than Foreigner, nor did I practice drumming to any music other than Foreigner.  I came to appreciate what a great drummer Dennis Elliott is.  I was challenged to try to come close to some of the amazing things he could do with two sticks in his mitts, things I never noticed until I played the music through head phones on my numerous walks.  Lou Gramm is a tremendous singer, no matter the tempo or style.  Mick Jones is downright filthy on his electric guitar.  The keyboards, manned mostly by Al Greenwood, were essential on many of their tunes.  Every such listening or practice confirmed that I had made a wise move in selecting the Foreigner camp.

Movie Review: "Knives Out"

"Knives Out": A.  If you are a devotee of Agatha Christie, Sherlock Holmes or the game Clue, the film Knives Out is for you.  As a fan of all three, I loved this movie.  Save for one quibble, it might be the best one I have seen this year.  As a bonus, mix in a brilliantly curated set of songs, a Barney Fifesque police detective, and an ensemble cast comprised of familiar and new faces delivering a blend of humor and sophistication.  As is true with almost any Christie or Holmes mystery, there are foreshadowings, red herrings, clues, disguises, thumps in the dark, creaky staircases and lethal weapons galore, as the title suggests.  The old mansion where much of the action takes place is almost a character in and of itself.   The result of all this is a delight that you may just have to see twice to make sure you didn't miss anything.

The patriarch of the Thrombey family is Harlan (the inestimable Christopher Plummer), who has made his multi-million dollar fortune writing crime novels.  Harlan is no doddering fool; in fact, just the opposite.  Most importantly, he uncannily knows what's going on behind his back.  He has invited his two married children, their spouses and his widowed daughter-in-law to his estate to celebrate his eighty-fifth birthday.  Also present for the festivities are his mother, his two grandchildren, his omni-present personal nurse and the housekeeper.  Before the evening is over, Harlan turns up dead.

It looks like a suicide, but wait.  The body is practically still warm when Dectective Benoit Blanc (former James Bond actor Daniel Craig) and his unintentionally goofy assistant Wagner (Noah Segan) arrive.  Who hired them?  No one seems to know. Pretty soon Blanc has a crime scene on his hands.  At first he stays in the background, making mental notes on each of the guests who attended the party.  We learn that, if truth be told, a majority of them were selfishly waiting for Harlan to pass, thus opening the door to their respective cuts of his estate.  Some held more solid motives to cause Harlan's demise, all of which come to light during a flashback of the birthday party.

Harlan had caught on to an embezzlement scheme orchestrated by widowed daughter-in-law, Joni (Toni Collett), whereby she had been "double-dipping" from the funds he'd provided to pay for her daughter Meg's (Katherine Langford) college education.  Harlan fired his youngest offspring, Walt (Michael Shannon), from his position of operating the publishing side of Harlan's works.  Perhaps Walt's habit of referring to his father's works as "our books" was too much for the old man.  Although oldest child Linda (Jamie Lee Curtis) is sharp and astute -- she had insisted that her husband Richard (Don Johnson) sign a prenup -- she was unaware that Richard and Harlan's young nurse, Marta (Ana de Armas), were having an affair.  Harlan, however, was aware, and threatened to expose Richard's infidelity.  Also during the party, Harlan rebukes his ne'er-do-well adult grandson, Hugh (Chris Evans), for his laziness and terrible attitude, informing the young man that he is now cut off from the will's inheritance.  Thus, there is no shortage of suspects or motives.

In addition to the party flashback, we also witness several re-enactments (via flashback) of Harlan's last moments and the events immediately preceding them.  Three possibilities exist: suicide, accidental death, or cold-blooded murder.  The story does not end when we think it will end.  Toward the end of Christie's Murder On The Orient Express, Detective Hercule Poirot explains to the astonishment of the passengers how he solved the crime.  In similar fashion, many Sherlock Holmes stories wrap up when the master detective, Holmes, pieces together the clues for the benefit of his bewildered colleague, Dr. Watson.  In Knives Out we have Detective Blanc doing much the same.  The majority of his conclusions make sense, but for several of his suppositions we wonder, "How in the world did he figure that out?"  It's all great fun, except for the dearly departed Harlan Thrombey.

Writer-director Ryan Johnson adds splashes of humor and various oddities to keep things light.  Marta the nurse vomits when she lies, an idiosyncrasy which can and does work both for and against her. When various characters refer to her, they do so by naming the South American country from which they think she immigrated: “the Brazilian nurse,” “the Peruvian nurse,” “the nurse from Paraguay,” etc.  This works not as knee-slapping humor but as kind of a subtle inside joke for the viewers. One character refers to the detectives as “CSI: KFC.”  The nearly catatonic grandmother, Great Nana Thrombey (K Callan), is accused of eating all the salmon spread before dinner. The jaunty tunes which often accompany the scene shifting complement the mostly campy atmosphere.  Who ever knew a murder investigation could be anything but drama?

The reading of Harlan’s will in the mansion’s library by family attorney Alan Stevens (Frank Oz), with all members present, is a highlight which comes with a surprise. But it is followed by a restaurant scene where two key characters have a game-changing conversation during which certain admissions are made. That conversation requires the viewers to overlook a credibility gap, because the two characters have had no direct dialogue between themselves, and the admissions seem to be rendered too casually given what's at stake.  That gap temporarily had me lowering my grade to an A-, but the more I thought about the level of entertainment provided by the film as a whole, I decided to stick with my original assessment, A.