Geezer Rock

The Monk Has Chest Pains

Nick "Sewer Boy" Ciani arrived at the Mojo Dojo Rehearsal Space and Hair Care Products Storage facility last night and turned down the traditional McDonald's 99 Cent Double Cheeseburger. It's like when your cat refuses a delicious plate of stinky salmon parts - something's wrong; perhaps it's time for a trip to the vet. (A good vet is probably all your health plan allows these days, anyway. You can pick up your antibiotics at PetSmart. Everybody's happy.)
"My acid reflux has been upgraded to heart disease," Nick said. "I've been living like a monk and what did it get me?"
It's true. Nick denies himself many pleasures. He said he'd only scored a gentlemanly "C" on his treadmill test.
"The only question is: what's the tune that's going to come up of this?" said Kenton. Nick turns many of his life events into poems and songs. It's virtually impossible to tell what's going on without detailed, Cliff-notes style explanation, but it usually turns out that songs like "Super Ego on Vacation" are based on actual events. Nick said he thought a good idea for a song might be "Fuck the Monk."
I thought I detected a note of anger.
"Well, it's not the kind of news you want to get at 50," Nick said.
It's serious. They're going to shoot his heart full of dye on Friday to see if he's got any blockages in his coronary artieries. I suppose they could wheel him right into surgery if they find actual cheesburger fragments in there.
Rehearsal went poorly, of course. My version of "They Call me Guitar Hurricane" sounded more like "They Call Me Guitar Natural Disaster." Nick was so distracted by the though of his heart exploding during a solo that he said "I couldn't find my ass with both hands tonight." Kenton was sick, too. A terrible cold and one of his eye-popping headaches. He couldn't find it ass with a global satellite ass positioning system. Only Player X seemed on top of things, even correcting on on songs we'd been playing for months.
Nights like this are depressing. Last week's practice, following the Hilltop Tavern Gig, was so good, too. But this is Geezer Rock, I guess. Old guys with heart problems doing the best they can.
Pete Townshend sang "I hope I die before I get old," in "My Generation." We're now ammending that to "I hope I don't die before I get old." We sent Nick off into the night with a hug and the usual black jokes ("Hey, if something happens, can I have your record player?") I should remind him that Howlin' Wolf continued to give it up mightly on stage after two heart attacks and kidney failure that required dialysis three times a week. A man whose coronary arteries are filled with trans fats, cigarette butts and pork rinds might feel ridiculous singing "I Want to Hold Your Hand," but certainly "Going Down Slow" would acquire new dignity.
Say a prayer for Sewer Boy. I have no intention of fronting a power trio.
©2007 Edward Dean Chance. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Top of the Hilltop

The Dancing Instigator
Our touted Hilltop Tavern gig on Friday didn't exactly leave them screaming for more. But no one was screaming for less, either. We had the most dancers ever in KDOG History, largely thanks to the efforts of the evening's "Dancing Instigator." The DI breaks the ice. Every successful gig has a DI. Usually it's a voluntary position, often filled by one or two drunk women. Other times, it's an energetic couple. Smart bands will sometimes import a ringer as a dancing instigator. The Muffins, a band in my hometown of Springfield, Ill., used this technique the first time I saw them on the porch of the snack shack at Illini Country Club. The DI was Jeff Horne, who had long uncombed hair and danced like a wild man. Jeff's dance moves can still be seen at jam band concerts and films of old Grateful Dead shows. I call it the "hippie dance." Later, the State Journal Register published a picture of the Muffins at a different gig, with Jeff in the foreground. The caption identified Jeff as the Dancing Instigator, which is where I picked up the term. The Long Suffering Mrs. Chance and her friend Natalie served this function at the Stoney Inn with modest success at times. (They weren't drunk. They're just want to see everybody having fun, like attentive moms at a kids birthday party.) At the Hilltop, our DI was a gentleman with a back-length mane of hair and a beard. He looked like an elderly member of Lynnard Skynnard or an Allman Brothers roadie. He played air guitar during the warm up and sound check and started dancing by himself right away, which is unusual for a man at a club. He'd been at the Hilltop since at least 4 p.m., when we arrived to set up the gear. As the dance floor filled, he danced with groups of women, couples and by himself. We owe this man a debt, if not of money, then of genunine respect. The DI is a sacred position.
Take That, Jimi!
Tommy called me Saturday morning with a positive review. The top line is that is sounded good. Now, while Tommy's opinion counts, since he's a professional musician, I was really thrilled when Tommy told me Aunt Brenda's review. "She said it really sounded a lot better," Tommy told me. "She said 'Hey, it really sounds like Dean worked out some new guitar parts on a lot of that stuff.'"
Now Brenda is a person who, while watching Jimi Hendrix on the Woodstock DVD, simply got up and left after dropping this bomb: "This is horrible. He can't even sing. It's not in tune. Why do people even think THIS is good?" You're not dealing with a person who is going give you a spoonful of sugar with the medicine or simply go along with the crowd. I got a better review than Hendrix at Woodstock. This is a moment to cherish.
In general, several people who hadn't seen us since before Thanksgiving, said the band sounded much tighter. I credit Player X with this effect. Player X also sang some new tunes for the first time at this show, including "Let the Good Times Roll" and "Got My Mojo Workin'," a kind of tribute to the Mojo Dojo Rehearsal Space and Hair Care Products Storage Facility.
The Volume Wars
We're definitely an "earplug" band. (Kenton had a great idea: pass out our own customed designed foam earplugs that are shaped like dog bones.) Conversation is impossible during the set if you're anywhere near the band. Even screaming won't work. The volume level is not popular with women, who want to be able to talk and share their spontaneous feelings. One of the moms who came to the show simply stayed in the Hilltop's bar area, explaining that "I'm not going in there, it's just too loud." Now, if a lot of women think you're too loud, it's a potential problem, since club owners will tell you that women are the most important component of you're fan base. "One women brings in two men," is how it's been explained to me. The blues guitarist and singer Little Milton told Mojo magazine that he based his career on this idea.
"When I got into what music was all about, I catered to women in my songs," Milton said. "I sing about the goodness women have done for me, and how much I love her. I knew if I draw 20 women, I'm going to draw 40 men, see?"
Tommy told me that he didn't think the show was too loud or out of balance. "You're guitar solos could even have been a tad louder at times," he said. "And I can't see how KDOG could have played any quieter."
I know that Nick and Player X think we put out too much sound. It's subjective. Men tend not to complain, even if their ear drums rupture and cerebral fluid stars leaking out of their tear ducts. Rock is supposed to be loud, for God's sake. You'd think our fan base would be asking us to turn it up, since their hearing is starting to go. But, since rock music is about cutting loose, the constant struggle to hold back feels wrong. Also: if you start out loud, the music has no where to go. You can't build. The concept of dynamics is lost. Player X started out the gig by admonishing the band to turn down two notches, so that later in the evening, we could build a little excitement. Not fitting in to the expected volume level could hurt our ability to get gigs. I know we only want to play twice a month, but it need to be at the right places.
Set Length
Player X, our new bassist, is a fan of strict 45-minute sets with 15-minute breaks. Club owners expect or even insist on this discipline, he says. It gives the audience a break to socialize and buy more drinks. In fact, the audience needs a break more than the band does. Kenton insists on one-hour sets. He says it distinguishes us from hack bar bands. I think Kenton is just horny to play and would simply never stop. "I see potential," Player X told me after the secone set. "But I've played at a lot of places. Some of these places that we want to get into expect 45-minute sets." I shrugged. "You know who you've got to convince," I said.
Bing Crosby - In Person!
I haven't seen any pictures from the gig. But my new look seemed to go over well. I call it "Dad" or "Geezer." I had the whole schmeer - right down to the pipe, white belt and white shoes. People said I looked like either Fred MacMurray or Bing Crosby. I made an impression doing back-up vocals with the pipe clenched in my teeth. My last purchase for the evening invovled a visit to The Villiage Hat Shop in old Sac. The lady who helped me seemed only mildly amused by my request to look at stupid as possible. I purchased a Burberry-style tweed old guy hat, which clashed gloriously with my vintage seersucker sportcoat. Many of the younger patrons seemed confused. Whas this "camp" or what? One accidently paid me the ultimate compliment: "Are you Kenton's DAD?" Success!
The Set List
Although the rule is that people don't dance to original material, people got up and shook it vigorously to several of Nick's originals, especially in the second and third sets, when the alcohol really started to take hold. One guy tried to give the woman he was dancing with a tango-style dip, but lost control and dropped her on the concrete floor and then fell heavily right on top of her. She smacked her head hard. Later, I saw her with an ice pack on her sore skull. The guy danced with like 10 different women, so I gather they didn't know each other well.
The Venue
An overlooked aspect of gigging is power. Not ever bar is set up to run a massive amount of electtrical gear. At the Hilltop, we had to run a cord into the liquor room and use the 220 outlets they run the refrigerators that hold the kegs. Otherwise, we would've blown the main circuit breaker, which has to handle the entire electrical load for the rest of the bar. I gathered that they've had problems with that in the past.
Timing is Everything.
The Hilltop shows start and end early - 8 to 10 p.m. This is the perfect schedule, since the boomers can come early and leave before 10 p.m., but there's still two hours of entertainment for the hip young people who don't even show up until 10. But we have to quit at midnight to placate the grumpy neighbors, who have probably had to put up with a lot of nonsense over the years, I imagine.
Next Show: March 10.
The Hilltop owner wasn't present. I have no idea if our scheduled second show is still on, but we definitely brought in a lot of people. I'm already hearing from a lot of people who missed the show that they're coming to the next one. Plus, we've got some people who say they're coming back. Could it be that we're finally building a fan base?

The "Dad" Look

As you know, I'm experimenting with the classic "dad" look for my stage clothes. This is based on the idea my show business theory of exaggerating yourself. Since I'm a dad, I thought that's what I should look like - taken to the extreme. My models are the dads of the 50s and 60s, as typified by Ward Cleaver. I also studied old photos of my grandfather, too, who effortlessly mastered this look. When he died, I got his collection of bolo ties. My favorite features a scorpion encased in clear plastic. I also found inspiration in studying the movie Cocoon, particularly the outfits of the Don Ameche character.
This is America, so dressing bad on purpose is easy, since the junk shops and yard sales are well stocked with hideous style cast offs. It's sort of like we're "molting" regularly, shedding godawful fashions which will be replaced by even more appalling style violations, such as cargo pants. The problem is in executing the "dad" look with original flair, as opposed to just looking like I grabbed the first petrolium-based outfit I saw at the Salvation Army store.
The real problem has been executing the Full Cleveland: the classic old guy pairing of the white belt and white shoes. The vintage and second-hand shop Cheap Thrills had a rack full of white belts, but I still can't find the perfect pair of gag-inducing vynil white loafers. I may have to make do with a pair of leather Vans slip-ons, but since these are actually hip now, this is the fashion equivalent of hitting a wrong note in the middle of the big solo.
The photo shows a real find: a pair of vintage dad glasses. I replaced the lenses and - voila - the look that launched a thousand lectures on "responsibility" and "doing the right thing." It's amazing. Slipping on these frames, I instantly starting thinking and talking like all the adult male relatives from my childhood. I've experienced total recall lot of great dad phrases I heard in the childhood, from "I'll give you something to cry about" to "You'd better stop acting like a monkey and get on the stick."
I plan to unveil this at our big show at the Hilltop Tavern this Friday, Feb. 16, from 8 p.m. to midnight. I have no idea if people will get it, or simply be confused. I can't wait until I qualify to join AARP next year. Maybe they'll sposor us. We can have a table and sign people up at every show.
When Tommy Dunbar, former teen pop idol and Rubinoos co-founder, turned fifty last year, he qualified for all kinds of great benefits. I'm insanely jealous and I'm counting the days when I can start suckling at the engorged teat of our nation's many "senior discount" programs. Tommy and I produce jingles for several Indian Casinos in Northern California. On a recent client visit to Rolling Hills Casino, Tommy realized he qualified for the senior half-price discount at the buffet. He had to sign up for the Shasta Club player's card. But what's a few minutes of paperwork compared to the delights of the all-you-can-eat buffet for less than five dollars? I had to pay full price. As we pushed our trays through the line, I told Tommy, "I know you're a vegetarian and everything, but I've seen the budget on this job and the only way we can make a profit is if you eat about five hundred dollars of Salisbury Steak right now."
Tommy ignored this advice, but we did eat two desserts apiece. Tommy still carries his Shasta Club card in his wallet next to his driver's license so it's ready for immediate deployment the next time we visit Rolling Hills.
Of course, I'm also practicing daily for a the next gig. After all, I haven't forgotten this is a musical event, not a fashion show. So, if you have any urge to watch some guy who looks like your grandfather sing "Rattle Snake Shake," which is a song that tastefully deals with the subect of masturbation, be there!

KDOG Himself

If it wasn't for Kenton KDOG Lee, there would be no band - or Geezer Rock Blog. It's cetainly nothing I could accomplish on my own. Kenton thinks big. As Nick "Sewer Boy" Ciani says, "KDOG has a vision and he does not let reality or ojections get in the way. KDOG eats objections like Cheerios." The dog worships Gov't Mule and especially Mule drummer Matt Apts. Kenton also declaims "Warren Haynes is a God" so often that his fiancee vows to kill him if does in her presence one more time. As the big KDOG Uber Jam on Friday Feb. 16 at the legendary Hilltop Tavern approaches, I got the man who has no idea how many drums sets he actually owns to set still for an interview.
Do you still enjoy having your own band?
I love the band. It’s a way for you and I to express ourselves. I think we’re finally starting to play good music, music that people will enjoy. It’s always been a dream of mine to play in a band where we created the type of music that we wanted to and weren’t limited to people telling us what we need to play.
How old were you when you started playing the drums?
Four. I used to grab the pots and pans everyday when I was watching I Love Lucy. I’d get two wooden spoons and start playing them. My mom and dad both looked at me said, “He’s got rhythm!” They took me down to a music store that was still on San Pablo Avenue in Richmond until a few years ago. It was called Diaz Music. They started giving me lessons. By the time I was five I could read drum music. By the time I was 7 I had a union card and was playing professionally. We would play twice a month behind a big band. What they would do is roll me out and I would play a drum solo and play with the other drummer, two or three songs. It was a bunch of older gentlemen. This was in 1956 and 1957.
When did you start with rock and roll bands?
I played in rock and roll bands from the time I was 10 until I graduated from high school. In junior high school, the band was named the Immortals. We used to play gigs all over Sacramento. It was a surf band. Then in high school, I got into The Doors, The Jefferson Airplane, Quicksilver Messenger Service. I got married really young and I had a son, but, I hung around with David and the Foreskins, I don’t know if you’re familiar with them, or the Skin. They were probably one of the better bar bands in Sacramento and My high school buddies were in that band. They all moved to L. A and I couldn’t move to L.A. We played all the Allman Brothers and Eric Clapton tunes. I used to play casual gigs. I played in rock bands, country bands - anyone who needed a drummer.
Have there ever been times when you didn’t play very much?
Yep, when I met (ex-wife) Mrs. (Debbie) Lee in 1990. I put the drums in the basement. But then, a few years ago, Nick heard me play and asked me to play in The Bittermen. (Director’s commentary: Nick is Nick “Sewer Boy” Ciani, the current harp player and dynamic male vocalist of KDOG. Although Nick and Kenton had been acquaintences for years though our common friend, Dave Mering, we’d never rmade a musical connection. This meeting took place at Dave’s engagement party, hosted at the home of Susan Fobes. The Fobes household featured a music room with an upright bass, a grand piano and an electronic drum kit. I played a little bass with Kenton, who hammered the drums for quite awhile. Kenton said, “Hey man, we ought to get together and jam sometime.” I promised we would, never imagining where this would lead. Nick heard Kenton playing, which resulted in an invitation to join The Bitterman Blues Band, a group of childhood pals who played publicly maybe two times a year.)
(Bitterman bassitst) Tom Andrews called me and said, “Hey we’re gonna start the Bittermen again. We’re gonna play at the Club 2-Me. We need a drummer. Would you like to audition?” I played one song and they said, “You’re hired.” We rehearsed twice a week, which was a lot for them but, I said, “Hey, if we’re gonna go do this, we gotta get something down.” So, we, we The 2-Me gig on August 14. God, it might have been 2004 . Nick’s house was the band house. When his son moved back in, we needed a place to rehearses, so I got the Dojo.
The Bittermen dissolved after that gig Tommy (Dunbar) and I played with you guys. A lot of people say you broke up the band by pushing everybody too hard.
Right. Well, I think that everybody was ready to do other things. Jim has two daughters amd had to coach soccer. And Tom and Jim basically wanted to race cars.
You guys made a CD though.
We made our CD in December of 04 at Nick’s, house.
Who recorded it?
Jim. On a little computer with the three mikes we used for singing.
I really liked Nick’s original tunes a lot. When the Bittermen broke up, all that was left was you and Nick, with me waiting in the wings.
But then (Kenton’s friend and bassist) Steve Garland started sayingn to me “Hey –see if Dean will play lead guitar.”
Yeah, so we started rehearsing with Steve Garland, right after that, that December and January and February. Then Steve started to lose interest. I wasn’t good enough. He didn’t want to rehearse. We just weren’t making any progress.
I think the thing that really blew him out is, when Nick blew up that one night. (Director’s Commentary: I remember Nick yelling and complaining, the theme being "We're a blues band, man, not a rock band!" but I can’t remember what set him off. We'll find out when Nick does is Geezer Rock interview.)
After you guys left that night, Steve just said, “Kenton, I’ve played for many years, I don’t need this.” I thought it would work. But he bailed. But I always felt from the minute, you and I started playing together, that we would be a life long brotherhood as far as music goes.
Then I got you into the church band.
That polished up my playing a lot. I mean, years ago, I had some opportunities. I auditioned for Craig Chaquico just to tour with the Starship and I could have gotten that gig, I chose not to because of my son. But the thing they said was I was gonna have to really polish up on my meter, my time. I almost had the opportunity to jam with Greg Allman one night - almost being that we were in his bus talking for two or three hours. He could tell I knew about music and we kind of hit it off. He wanted me to come jam but, I was freaked out, cause, I wasn’t playing very much at the time and it’s probably better that I didn’t.
When I first got you into the church band at St. John’s, some people in the worship band were saying, “Well, I don’t think this is working.” I had to admit you had some musical issues, but I said you’d work on it and learn the new style.”
I wasn’t aware of that actually.
Yeah. We had a meeting. I had to acknowledge that there were issues, but that you'd find the groove.
It’s really helped me discipline my drumming and it’s helped with our band.
Has the band turned out liked you’d hoped so far?
I’m surprised we played the Stoney Inn as much as we have.
So what have you learned about yourself in this process?
That if you put your mind to something and you really want it and believe in it that you can make it work. Sometimes, it isn’t what you want, but you always get what you need. (Laughs.)
What do you want to do in the next year?
Play a couple of times a month. Try to record a CD.
How old are you – 55? This is your last chance to do this, isn’t that true?
I would think.
If we're not playing in a band now - we don't have our whole lives ahead of us.
Well, I plan to be doing this when I’m 70 and you’re 60.
What do you remember about our first gig? You were so uptight. Was it that we had to assemble the stage ourselves?
I was worried about setting up my drums. It takes time and it’s intricate. Now that I have C. J, I don’t worry about it. If you noticed I’m much more relaxed. Anyway, the stage had to be set up, my drums had to be set up, it was our first gig, Dave came rolling in late. (Director’s Commentary: Dave was our second bassist who lasted through two rehearsals and one gig. We never heard from him again. He had a cool Fender Bass covered in real snakeskin, which he said smelled funny when it got too warm. He and Kenton were butting heads all night.)
You guys fought about doing “The Wind Cries Mary.”
Right, he just did not want to play it and I don’t understand that.
He didn’t feel like he knew it. He just had one or two rehersals. How did you get us that gig?
We got paid 500 bucks for it too, I think. It was this guy who sells medical supplies to all these doctors. He wanted to have a big blow out party and said “I need a band.” My friend Ernie said, “I got the perfect band: KDOG.”
It turns out that at we were not exactly the perfect band. Do you remember much about that night after we started playing?
He wanted us to play bar tunes, covers. Lynnyrd Skynnrd and like that.
We played “Black Magic Woman”for like 10 minutes while everybody like sang and danced on the stage and played percussion.
I knew they were gonna do that but, I told them I didn’t want them on the stage, they could do it in front of the stage. Then Dave invited them on the stage.
No, Dave didn’t invite them on the stage. The host of the party did. Dave just said, to you, “Don’t worry about it, it’s his party. If they wanna come up here that’s it. You just gotta let it happen.”
You know that party was kind of fun and we learned a lot Somebody was parked behind us and we couldn’t find out who it was and we couldn’t leave.
Do you remember your last conversation with Dave? Where he said, “I’m and asshole. I’m the first one to admit but, you’re an asshole too.”
Oh, yeah, yeah. Well you live and learn.
Do you practice at home? New songs and stuff?
No, I don’t practice learning songs. I practice the fundamentals to keep my hands loose. I’m working a lot on doing para diddles with both my feet and my hands together, the opposite so, like when I’m hitting with my right foot, it’s my left foot and then the visa versa so I can get a little more musical with my feet and my hands and it’s starting to really pay off good dividends.
You’re always joking about being compulsive. Are you really?
Oh, I’m O.C.D. Not to the point of a fault but, I like things in order. If you watch when I set my drums up, I can feel if a cymbal is an inch off.
What advice do you have for other guys who are in their 50’s and want to start a rock band?
Make sure that your significant other supports you, that you have patience, that you have determination and that you do it for the right reasons. The right reasons would be to have fun and to express yourself in a very positive way. Thinking that you’re gonna become a professional and go on tour is just absolutely ludicrous. If I wanted to do it, I probably would have done it in my 20’s because, I had, the opportunities. But I think we should we should try to book, you know, two or three week gigs on the road somewhere, rent a bus and let Nick room with Pablo and you and I’d room together cause, I’d absolutely kill Nick if I roomed with him. You and I are a good fit. It’s a brotherhood of music for you and I. As I always close out when I talk to everybody, we’re just gonna rock on.
What’s with all the drum sets, how did that happen?
Oh, that’s very simple. When I was a child my parents bought me a beautiful Slingerland set and then when I got older, they wouldn’t let wouldn’t let me buy another drum set with my own money I’d saved. So I always swore that when I wanted a drum set I’d buy it and that’s what I’ve done most of my life. Now, I’ve made a little money on buying and selling drums and it’s gotten me to a point where I have an infatuation with good quality drum sets.
Now, also music’s been important to you because you worked in the radio industry and you also managed Tower Records on Watt.
Right.
How long did you work at Tower?
Mr. Lee: I worked at Tower from 71-79 and then from 79-81, or from 79-80, I worked at Dimple Records, I actually start, helped open Dimple Records. Then in 80, I got into radio and I worked at K-L-Y-O radio, a little county station out of Davis. I was there for 6 months and then I got a job at K-S-F-M, which was the top 40 station. I worked there from 80-89. Then in 90, I started a radio station with my friend Jeff Holden, K-R-F-D. When KZAP when under we started a new station. I was there until 94 and then I went to work at The Mix. I was at the Mix until 2000, when I went to work at V-101.1 and then from there I went into the advertising industry.
Favorite drummers?
Michael Shrieve, Lenny White. Butch Trucks, Jaimo, Buddy Rich, Gene Krupa. And then my very, very favorite is Mad Apts (of Gov't Mule). There’s not a drummer alive like Matt Apts.

Kings of the Hilltop

The Hilltop is an East Sacramento institution. Loved by party hounds and only dubiously embraced by irritated neighbors, The Hilltop is on the edge of Sacramento's grandest and most expensive old neighborhoods. Many KDOG fans live well within staggering distance of this wonderfully comfortable and shabby bar and pool hall.
Kenton has known the new owner, Donna, for many years. We've got an in! Kenton finally decided to cash in this chit. We met with Donna yesterday and agreed to play two dates for $200. The first could be as soon as Feb 16. (This is, in fact, the date. The show is 8 p.m. to midnight, perfect for you boomers who can't stay awake past 10 p.m.) The next date booked is Saturday, March 10. Our goal: to fill this place with every person we know for both shows. No one should claim to be too scared to go to The Fabulous Forties, as the area is known, where the biggest danger to your well being are the giant SUVs piloted by the local gentry, eager to fight over parking spaces at the Trader Joe's just up the street.
I used to call the Hilltop the Hi-Top because critical letters were busted or burned out on the electric sign. Under the old ownership, the Hilltop attracted a few trouble makers who irritated the neighbors by racing motorcyles up and down the streets after midnight. Donna took over, kicked out the bad element and created a welcoming ambiance for both old and new customers. She also started booking live music. There is never a cover charge. "The music should be free," Donna told us over a round of beers. The deal is simple: we play a couple of gigs for $200 and see how it goes. If we can pack the place, we might be able to play a steady once a month gig. That would be ideal. It's our kind of place. Under Donna's guidance, the bar is developing a reputation for live music and friendly booze hounds.
"I've known Donna forever," Kenton told me. "I was gonna call her and gonna call her, but I'm glad we waited. Playing at the Stoney really helped us get into shape."
The Hilltop's pool table room, where we'll be playing, has plaster walls, a high ceiling and a painted concrete floor - all of which present potential sound problems. Packed with sweaty bodies, it should sound fine. Empty, it will be worse than playing at the Legendary Mojo Dojo Rehearsal Space and Hair Care Products Storage Facility. It's important to make a success of the first gig. I am going to invite every person I can think of. The shows start at 8 p.m., which is perfect for the typical boomers who don't want to stay out past 10. The band will play on until midnight.
Kenton level of connectness in this town is astonishing to me. It's the secret of our gigging success so far. He knows somebody. He makes a phone call. He's like a Wise Guy, except that, so far as I know, no ones legs have been broken.
© 2007 Edward Dean Chance ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Rockin' Johnny!

Geezer Rock Hall of Fame: Rockin' Johnny of Johnny and the Vital Signs
Johnny Bruscia of Rockin' Johnny and the Vital Signs had a gig at The Dante Club in Sacamento on the Saturday I inteviewed him. He also had a painful, rotten tooth that badly needed a root canal. That would have to wait. Like any good rocker, Johnny would rely on strong painkillers to get through the gig - Vicodin in this case. "At our age, everybody in the band is on something, diuretics maybe."
Johnny, now 59, formed his own Geezer Rock outfit seven years ago simply because "it's now or never, man. You gotta do it now, because we're all running out of time." The outfit has survived name and member changes. But the mission hasn't changed: rock before it's too late. When not playing, Johnny runs an antiques shop in Old Sacramento that, among other items of intrigue, stocks many classic 45s and vinyl LPs.

So, how to you keep a Geezer Rock band together for seven whole years?
When you start a band that’s the beginning of the break up of the band. It’s like a marriage. You got five personalities with all kinds of different variables. “Oh, I can’t make it tonight because, you know my wife looks likes she’s uh, bloating a little bit.” Bands not easy to keep together.
What’s the secret?
I have certain requirements for the band. Your family’s first but the band is second and if you’re gonna commit to a band, you must do everything you can to be able to play with that band. I don’t want any of the guys in the band to have girlfriend problems. You know, they're pissed off because you’re in a band, there’s gonna be chicks trying to hit on you. So if you got a girlfriend problem, it isn’t gonna work.
How long have you been rocking?
Probably about seven years.
Has the band always been the Vital Signs?
Johnny and the Vital Signs, because we have to check our vital signs after ever gig. We used to be Rock bottom. We had all kinds of goofy names. I wanted a name that identified old dudes. I wanted something like an old-timer name. Like the AARPs. (American Association of Retired Persons.) But then I thought that might sound like a punk band and we’d have to play every song with the same three chords. (Laughs)
What is the signature sound of the Vital Signs?
Classic rock man. We open with Start Me Up by the Rolling Stones. Then Gimme Some Lovin’. We do some funky stuff. If you wanna be successful as a band, you’ve gotta play stuff that makes people wanna come out and dance. I’ve tried to pick out songs that make people wanna get out and dance: "Brick House," "Hold On I’m Comin’," "Domino." They’re not going to hire you so they can just listen to you. They want to get people going for a party!
What’s the best party song of all time?
They’ll get out and dance to "Mustang Sally" every time. It’s a simple song but they love it and they’ll always get out and dance. I also like to play "Johnny B. Goode" towards the end. They love that song.
Does it have anything to do with the average age of the audience?
It doesn’t make any difference. If you play a good song, they’ll all get out and dance.
What’s the line up in the band?
There’s been several different versions of the band. We’ve had saxophones, keyboards, and a trumpet sometimes. Now we’re down to just a keyboard, bass guitar, me on lead guitar and a drummer. We’re just down to that because; I wanna keep it a little more simple now.
Are you singing too?
Oh, yeah.
Who else sings in the band?
I have a buddy of mine that sings in the band named Dave. He's got a real good voice. The problem is, he’s got a such a good voice that a lot of rock and roll stuff is tough for him to sing.
How often do you guys play gigs?
We don’t wanna do it more than about a couple times a month, because it can really be a lot of work. We’re not the Stones; we don’t have people loading our stuff up for us. That’s another reason why I simplified it down to four or five people so that after you’ve done a gig where you’re standing up there for five hours you don’t have to be lifting everything until 3 a.m. We played Old Sacramento at a club and we got done at one o’clock. Then we had to unload and load all our stuff. People were fighting in the streets and stuff, I said, man, I said, this, is, it’s like playing Nam.
How do you guys keep getting gigs?
When you play a gig there’s usually somebody in the audience who will come up to us and say, “Hey man, would you guys uh, play a wedding?” That’s how you get your gigs, by word of mouth,
Do you guys have your own PA system?
Yeah, yeah.
Who does live sound for you? Who’s twiddling the knobs?
The guy that sings in our band, since he doesn’t play an instrument, he does a lot of that for us. But he gets paid the same as we do.
How much are you guys making?
We make from five to seven hundred dollars.
That’s pretty good.
Yeah, you know, for just a bunch of old dudes.
How do you guys get a good live sound?
That’s very, very difficult. We’re a basic band. I don’t have anything fancy. Just my old Fender amp. I just say, “Hey, all you guys out there: how do we sound?” If somebody says, “I can’t hear you or I can’t hear that,” then we adjust.
Are you competing for gigs with a lot of other bands?
There’s not that many classic rock bands. I mean you think there is but try to find one. Everybody around here wants to play the blues. The same thing, over and over. I love blues, don’t get me wrong. I like to go out and listen to bands but I have a hard time finding classic rock bands.
Isn’t hard to get Baby Boomers to come out a see live music?
I think probably if you have a stick of dynamite and put it under them and lit it right before the concert, you might be able to blow them out of the house. You’ll call them and say, “Hey, man we’re playing over here tonight man at the party and it should be fun, why don’t you come out?” And they say, “Oh, well yeah, well maybe we will.” But, then when it comes time, they’ll be right in front of that TV or they’ll be out and they’d be having dinner or something It’s very difficult to get boomers because, well, we’re into couches now. I always invite a whole bunch of them out and maybe I get ten to twenty percent at the most, to come out.
So, mostly your crowds are younger people out partying, right?
People in their forties - they’re still going out. But when you get to be a married and married ones don’t go out. Real difficult to get them, out, very difficult. My feeling is, “Hey, come on man, you can still go somewhere, you’re gonna be sitting in a retirement home staring at the wall for a long time.” Get out and do it now, while you still can, because, we are low on time.
Isn’t that the reason to start a Geezer Rock band in the first place?
If you’re not doing it now this is it; this is my last go round, man.
What’s your show like?
People always say, “Wow you guys sound really good” But - I’m not a very good guitar player or a great singer. We play good songs. I have a tendency to jump off the stage. I could be laying on the floor upside down, playing my guitar or standing on my head playing my guitar. I do some weird stuff to put on a mini show. Because, I want people to go just beyond listening to us. We do a little movement. I don’t just stand there. I’ve done it to the point where I’ve almost hurt myself. The last time I was playing guitar on my back on the ground, I had a hard time getting up and, and a couple of the girls came up there and, they lifted me up. This getting old stuff isn’t for sissies. We do a little comedy up there too. We talk to the people. I tell them please don’t throw any support hose up at the band or you know, walkers.
Is that how you fire up a show?
That’s important, firing the people up. It took me five years to come up with all the tunes. Now we’ve got thirty tunes that really get people fired up.
How often do your guys rehearse?
Once a week. We have to, because we have them senior moments on stage, where we’ll forget a song. We do about an hour and a half a week.
Who owns the PA?
We split it. Me and one other guy. You can’t get too many people involved because when people quit the band, then they wanna be bought out. Bands are not an easy gig man, they’re complicated little things.
How do you settle ego clashes and all that?
You know what I tried to do with my band is, when I hired people, I hired them more for personality than for musicianship, believe it or not. Because people can really go off over this stuff. “That’s not the way that song goes” and all that stuff. I had a bass player, but he’s left the band. He had the mellowest personality; you couldn’t make him mad no matter what. But a lot of people in bands have more Type A personalities.
Tell me a good Geezer Gig story.
The last gig we played out at Crawdad’s, after we got done playing, this beautiful young girl came up and she goes, “Hey, if you guys keep playing, I’ll take all my clothes off.” Well, I had a heart palpitation first. We were packing up, but I went and told the boys “Hey, I said, unpack that stuff!” Well, being that we are seniors, they got mad. “No. We ain't unpacking that stuff, I can’t do all that.” I said, “She’s gonna take her clothes off!” They just said, “Aw, just take a picture of her or something.”
Have you ever had a gig really get ugly?
I’ve never, we’ve really had that, the only thing that we did wrong once was rich guy hired us to play up in Auburn. We were playing and the whole thing was going great. We were getting close to the end, and he wanted his son to come up and sing, so you know, under those circumstances, they’re paying you, so you go, “okay.” The kid comes up and sings and he kind of rattles on. He’s okay, you know but, you know, he wasn’t you know gonna hit the big time. Afterwards one of the guys in the band went up to the microphone and said, “Hey, don’t you quit your day job.” Oh, man, things got sour after that. Everyone was drinking. The guy who hired us says, “What the hell did you say about my kid?” Pack your shit up and get out of here!” Fortunately it was over anyway but man they were mad. It was like they were gonna run us out of town man. I told the guy, “Of all the things in the world, you could have done and said, you had to say that?” So, we don’t go up to Auburn anymore, they got wanted posters on us.
How long does it take you to set stuff up and take it down? Have you got it figured out, so it’s a system?
Not too long now. About a half hour. Before, we had a keyboard player who would bring two keyboards and a whole bunch of amps. The drummer would bring all these different sound system things and afterwards it was just a long drawn out loading process. So I told everybody, “Look man, all this stuff, it’s not gonna make us sound that much better. We could pull it off with being more basic.” That’s what we’re doing right now. We don’t have fancy stuff. No unnecessary crap. Yeah, we played a New Year’s Eve party. Guys brought so much stuff man, I said, “Hey we’re not playing Woodstock. You don’t have to bring all this stuff."
A band is just like a small business, right down to personnel problems.
But, you know what’s cool about being in a band? You could be talking to somebody you don’t even know and when they say, “Well what, do you do?” I say, “Oh, I own a little store down in Old Sac.” They just say “Oh.” But when I say, “I also have a band and play around town.” Then they say, “Oh, yeah, well that’s cool!” See you get more reaction from that than anything else. Even more than if I said that I was lieutenant governor or something.
The band is more work than people realize, though.
Working in a band is not a light weight thing, especially if you’re not a great musician like me. I just picked up the guitar, you know, because, when I was a kid, I saw the Beatles and they were playing and the girls were screaming their brains out man, ripping their clothes off, I said, "I gotta get me a guitar. I want them girls jumping all over me!” Of course I got a guitar and I just walked around with it and didn’t know how to play it. And then, I got drafted and I went to Nam. They would sell guitars over there, so I got a guitar. I think I learned one song the whole time I was over there. And then we got out. I goofed around; I never really got serious with it. Then about ten years ago, I started thinking, “You know maybe I could get a band going.”
Do you try to do covers perfectly like the record?
You can’t think that you have to do every song perfect, although you gotta sound like the artists who did it. It’s difficult, buddy. But no one ever comes up and says “Hey, you guys didn’t do that exactly like the record, either.” That never happens. We’re not ever gonna sound as good as Chuck Berry. I’m never gonna sound as good as Mick Jagger But if you get in the vicinity, I guarantee you the people will like you.
So do you play the guitar solos exactly like the records?
I bluff them. That’s okay. They’re happy with it. Most people don’t know the difference anyway. When we were playing out at Crawdads the other night, we were playing “Twist and Shout” We were playing D but the keyboard player was playing it in C. It was funnier than hell, man. We have brain farts once in a while.
How loud are you guys?
Not too loud.
No you’ve got a toothache, right? You need a root canal? But the show must go on tonight, right?
I’m gonna do it man, I don’t care if they have to wheel me in on a wheel chair.
Do the Vital Signs have a band uniform or a look?
I don’t expect them to dress up but I expect them at least to look together. Yeah, yeah, well it’s hard for an ancient guy like me to look like a rock and roll guy. I look more like the guy in Kung Fu.
Do you guys play in bars a lot?
No more bars or anything like that, unless it’s a private party. They don’t pay you nothing. A lot of the money and the fun is in weddings, parties and shows for like corporations. High school renunions are good. That’s where the money is and that’s where the fun is. Not only that but you’re the star. Everything’s free for you. I ain’t never going to play another bar, man. It’s just such as hassle. They want you to play for four hours and they give you thirty dollars a piece. We’re not doing it for the money, but I’d at least like to get a hundred dollars in my pocket after the night of rock and rolling. Last time we played at a bar, there were only five people there the whole night. I’ve got too big of an ego problem for that! (Laughs) I need more attention! Old dogs need to be petted more. When there’s a lot of people dancing, it fires you up. It makes you want to play better.
What uh, what’s your policy about guys in the bands drinking beer during gigs.
I don’t care because, most of them know that if they drink too much, they’re gonna suck. Having a couple of drinks is cool, because, when you’re at a party, it’s hard not to. One time, the party didn’t start for two hours after we got to the gig and our keyboard an old keyboard player drank so much that he fell off the stage.
Have you ever had to fire anybody from the band?
Oh, yeah, sheesh, are you kidding? We had to let our last keyboard player go because could never find his way to our gigs. He, we’d be playing here in downtown Sacramento somewhere he’d end up in Placerville. I’ve had at least five drummers over the years. Drummers can get wacky.
Do you go for drum solos?
I allow them but you know, I don’t remember hardly ever having any. But I want everybody to have a little bit of attention.
So what keeps Rockin’ Johnny Rockin’ after all these years?
It’s the the attention. That’s the only rush I have left right now. Things change when you get old. I’m fifty-nine years old. Finding my glasses is more important than sex right now. Having a band’s still a rush. Everybody would to be in a band man. I mean, that’s something, I dreamed of that the whole time I was a kid. It’s something that you have to look forward to, every time you know, you play a gig.