For me, the road to Now was paved with Them...
Did you ever have those moments when you stopped to analyze where you were, right now, in your life, and in your retrospection, you found some decisive moments that directly resulted in who you are today?
It's an illusion, really. Because of course what you did before led to what you did next, and next, and next, and suddenly you're where you are. So it makes perfect sense that you see some previous event as being pivotal. But dammit. They WERE pivotal!
I played music in high school. Clarinet to start with because my Mom couldn't afford the alto saxophone that I wanted to play, and the band director assured her that it was a fairly easy switch. It was. In my junior year in high school, I had a job, and I bought my first alto so that I could play in my high school jazz band. I really loved that - really enjoyed music, which is why I quit. When it was time to go to college, I was afraid that if I made music my job, I would grow to hate it. So I went into computer science instead. And failed. Miserably. Not so much because I didn't have the brain for it - it was more that I found smoking weed and listening to Led Zeppelin in the parking garage to be far more entertaining than going to mundane classes where I would be taught - not to think - but to regurgitate.
So after failing several classes, I quit college. I had no idea what I was going to do. The year was 1982.
Meanwhile, I had been playing in a quintessential garage band. It was first called "Nightwing" and we later renamed ourselves "Nightwind." So cheesy. We had a few gigs here and there in this bar or that one in Columbia, South Carolina and the surrounding areas. Up the street from where I lived was the Thunderbird Motel - pretty much a dive where truckers would stop while passing through my neck of the woods on I-26. It had a reputation of being sort of seedy. Just my kind of place. And one night, me and one of the guys from "Nightwind" stopped into the hotel bar to check out the band that had a house gig there. The name of that band was "Good Intentions" and they were really pretty damned good.
I was jealous. Most of the guys in the band I was in were fairly incompetent as musicians, and they damned sure weren't going to land a house gig anytime soon. And if it isn't obvious to you non musician folks, house gigs are the shit. Why? Well, aside from a steady-you-can-count-on paycheck, you don't have to move gear. You don't have to set up the whole shebang every time you play, and you don't have to tear down in the wee hours of the morning. I envied Good Intentions and their good fortune.
Pivotal. Pivotal was the day that some of those guys came to a bar we were playing in. I would end one of our sets by playing and singing "She's Got a Way" solo - Billy Joel style. You'll understand why that was pivotal later.
So. Out of college and playing in a band that wasn't that great and didn't get enough gigs to pay the rent, I went to work. The Day Job referred to in the phrase "don't quit your day job." Only mine wasn't a day job. It was the graveyard shift at Kroger Sav-on where I restocked shelves and basically "straightened up" all night so the store would look nice when it opened in the morning. One night, Steve Kemp from "Good Intentions" walked into the Kroger. Apparently, their keyboard player was moving on to other things, and they wanted me to audition to take his place. I practically threw down my Kroger nametag and ran out of the place.
An audition later, I was the newest member of "Good Intentions," and for the next two years, six nights a week, I played with the band I had envied. I guess they liked my rendition of that Billy Joel tune. Pivotal.
But why so pivotal, I mean c'mon Ock. It's just a band. Well, it's how my ears grew because of that band and how that has helped me to the success I have now.
We played every night, but on Tuesday and Thursday we rehearsed during the day. Every Monday, the guy who updated the jukebox would come in and put the latest records into it. On Tuesday, we scraped together what quarters we hadn't spent on booze or drugs (and there weren't many of them) and we got ready to learn new songs. The drummer and the bass player would standby, pens in hand, ready to catch the words and write them down. There was no Internet back then to get the words from. MY job was to pull all the chord changes and write THAT down. You know, when you only get two plays at the most to figure out an entire song, your ears get really big, really fast. And it was in that band that my music education really occurred. Years away, I would go on to get a degree in Music Education, but it was that band that taught me to think music. College just wanted me to pay and regurgitate and taught me nothing.
So, all that said, here is a tribute to those old friends who I have lost touch with. Guys, if you see this, please get in touch. All these years later I miss you all and the music we made.
Steve Kemp. Rhythm/Lead Guitar/Vocals. He was also the band's manager. He was a snake oil salesman, and a bloody damn good one. Quick with a joke or to light up your smoke, the Piano man would say - that was Steve Kemp. Very personable, and a pretty good guitar player.
Jackie Hendrix. Rhythm/Lead guitar/Vocals. If you picture the stereotypical country guitar player, complete with cowboy hat, that was Jackie. And one of the nicest guys in the world. I don't think he read too much music, but he could fucking play anything. ANYthing. Probably one of the best guitar players I've ever had the pleasure to work with. And as a singer, ...look, I'm not a fan of country music...but I loved listening to Jackie. The week nights at the bar were mostly country-fan audiences. The pop stuff didn't really come out until the college crowd joined us on weekends. Jackie was our country star, and he was a star that burned brightly. I'm actually surprised I haven't seen his name in lights.
Charlie Thomas aka "Chuck Thrasher." Drummer/Vocals. Charlie first started his music career as a drummer in a punk band. I'm not sure how he met up with the other guys, but I'm glad he did. He had a beautiful wife, Denise and a lovely daughter, Maggie. Sadly, they're divorced now, but back then, they were always happy to have us over at their house. It was Charlie's house that we all congregated at. He loved his music with an unrivaled passion. This is what I remember most about him.
So my name is Steve, and there was Steve Kemp, and I guess that wasn't enough Steves. The last member of this long forgotten band was Steve Grayson. Bass/Vocals. Steve was also my best friend in the band. He was the one that taught me that what goes around comes around. He'd give you the shirt off his back even if he didn't have a dime in his pocket. And talented? Oh yes. He was the main "front" of the band. Very quick witted, great with a crowd, and an excellent singer - one I learned much from - and a great bassist. I've tried to look him up, and can't find a trace. Actually, I've tried to look them all up. No trace.
And that was "Good Intentions" for as long as it lasted. It was easily the best two years of my life. One where I formed some pretty horrible habits, as seems to be the way with musicians, but one where I was able, if just for a time, to run wrecklessly through life living a dream.
Thanks for my music education, guys. The University of South Carolina gave me my degree in 1987, but you're the professors that taught me from 1982-1984. I still love you all.