Essentially I wanted to go on the cruise because Diana was going to start school in the spring. I assumed I be would touring a lot in the summers for at least a few more years, so it might be one of the last vacations we could take without working around school days. So we went and had a nice time. I still was not feeling all together happy with my life, but my hand was still improving. The doctors all seemed pretty close in their estimations as to when I would heal.
The only one they didn’t count on was my anger with the world. I was really struggling with that part of my life. I was slipping into a depressed state in my mind. I was starting to gain weight, but I assumed that was because I could no longer do my rigid workouts. Even on the road, I would eat properly and do a workout either in the hotel or if the weather and area was nice, I would go outside and jog. Now for months I was laid up in a hospital bed or could no longer do my cardio workouts. So even though I was trying to watch my diet, I was not nearly as active as I was before the ordeal. On the few days the passengers were allowed off the ship in ports of call, I could not get around like I would have liked to with Elise and the kids. There were a couple of times they went off for a couple of hours and I stayed on the ship and took a nap. Overall I think the kids would have preferred a week at Disney, but I knew I would not have been able to take all the walking. I refused to be photographed in a wheel chair with Elise pushing me around Disney World. So the cruise was really our best option I thought.
After the cruise we ended back to North Carolina. I had to visit the rehab center a few times. The Doctor was not pleased I had been away so long, but he was pleased with my progress. Dr. Summers sat with me a few times and wanted to increase the doses of medications. I was really against his idea, but I was running out of what I had in remaining pills. I had little choice but to fill the prescriptions he gave me. I stopped taking them at one point for a few days. Elise told me I was being miserable off the medications, so I started to take them again.
I started making the rounds to set a firm date to get back in the studio, but I was having a hard time getting in touch with Junior. Finally his nephew called me and told me they had moved Junior to a nursing home. His health had slipped dramatically. It was obvious we would need a new key board player. His nephew told me that Junior was actually turning seventy in two months and that few knew his real age. Junior always acted and looked much younger than his real age, but it didn’t really shock me to learn his real age because of our last tour. He had slowed down considerably even though he tried to convince everyone he had beaten his cancer. It was pretty obvious that even if that were true, he was not going to be able to tour again. So even though we had all hoped he could record with the band in the future, we knew at least we would have to find a keyboard player for the road. I called Duke. He already knew all the details. Somehow I was starting to think that Duke was trying to protect me too much from important information. I know he was a good friend, but I was a grown man and could take bad news. I didn’t feel I always had to be shielded from it.
I called Mr. Altos to see if he knew of a keyboard player. He said he would make some calls and try to set some auditions for later in the month. Billy called and asked if the keyboard player in his band could audition. I agreed.
Junior passed away a few days later. Elise and I joined Billy and Duke at the funeral. I sat at the service doing mostly the same thing I did at Christmas mass and counted stained glass tiles. I did take some time to think about Junior and the times we had together. I didn’t really feel pain over his loss. I knew he had been suffering for a couple of years now. I was not sure how to feel about loss any longer. I was not angry about Junior, even though I was going to miss him. I didn’t have much more of a reaction. I knew the drugs were making me feel like a walking zombie. Elise kept telling me I was too angry when I didn’t take them. My back was sore from all the extra traveling. I was doubling up on pain medication when it got too bad. My doctor had been warning me to slow down with all the travel, but every trip seemed necessary in my mind. It was imperative I paid my respects to Junior and his family. He was a fine man and lived his life with a smile always etched to his face.
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Chapter 20
After Junior’s funeral, we returned to North Carolina until it was time to head to New York to find a new keyboard player. Soon after the band would start working on the new album. Duke and I auditioned about ten keyboard players finally settling on Billy’s band mate Jack Harrison. He was not really better or worse than the others we auditioned, but Duke and I both knew Billy would get upset if we didn’t pick him. I was worried that Billy and Jack were really just drinking buddies away from the band, but we took a chance and trusted it would not be an issue. We hired Jack for the recording and with the idea he would tour with us assuming he didn’t cause issues with Billy. It was really a try out to see if you he could fit in with the band. Billy put up a bit of a fuss because we didn’t make him a full time member right off, but when I reminded him we did the same with Sasha, he backed down. We were to start recording in a few days back at the Lady Land Studios.
Linda flew in the next day. I arranged to have my apartment cleaned up so that she could stay with me. We could write at nights if necessary. I could still only play about two to three hours at a time before my back and hand would start to hurt too much. So we had to pace what I did in the studio. As a band we could work for hours, but I needed my breaks. It was going to be a long process, since I knew I was going to get push back with the songs I was bringing to the recordings. I knew they were moody and dark. Both Linda and Duke had already been complaining they were not typical “Overture type songs”. I would tell them both, “Maybe it’s time we expand our horizons as song writers and let the public decide what is and is not our typical songs.” I was stressed enough with my injuries. I didn’t need to be stressed over which songs should be recorded. It was a constant battle for weeks. Our producer Tim was squarely on the side of Linda and Duke. Billy would wander off with Jack when the debates would start. Sasha would sit quietly reading magazines. Sasha was very much into fashion now. She had been approached about starting some kind of cosmetics and clothing line. It had almost become her priority now. She was constantly seen reading the latest fashion magazines.
The debates over which songs to record had gotten so strong that Mr. Altos flew into town. He took me to dinner to discuss it all. He was very concerned that I was rushing back too quickly and wanted me to “Take time healing all of you.” I assured him that I was fine. The studio was where I belonged. He interrupted me with “I want you to let Duke and Linda help you pick more of the songs for this release Dylan. I have to admit they are possibly too dark for your fans. I have heard a few of the early demos and I don’t think your audience will accept this from you. Your songs have always been about relationships and love with some suffering, not like what you are writing now.”
I offered him the same debate I gave to the others, but he was not being receptive. “You have had much success as a song writer Dylan. Don’t let this rough patch you are going through ruin all the positive recognition you have achieved” he added. I was starting to get very annoyed at everyone telling me I was not the same person. I am sure I scolded Mr. Altos for his opinion of my mood. I knew I was not the same as before, but I really didn’t see myself as “dark and moody” like everyone around seemed to see me. I wanted to explore my inner thoughts for the new release. Everyone wanted to convince me it was a bad plan.
Debby was the only one on my side who voted to add all of the song about loss and despair. One of the songs was for Junior and was entitled “Lost Keys”. I thought that was an appropriate song for the record. I got the others to agree to that one. We added three others I had written while healing at home. Linda and I dug up two unfinished songs from our past and reworked them for the release. We added two that Duke had written. We also added two cover songs and a song previously unrecorded that Billy and Jack were working on for their ba
nd. So this album was more a mix of writers than any recording we had ever done. I fought to add more of the songs I had written while in rehab, but there was such a push back. I finally relented.
It took just over three months to record the album. It was released later in the summer entitled “Busted Seams”. I suggested the title “Drunk Drivers Suck” but it didn’t fly with the others. It was dedicated to our pal Junior.
It seemed everyone had a reason why we could not tour until later in the fall. I was under pressure from my doctors who wanted me to rest over the summer. Sasha was forming a new company for her fashion line. Billy and Jack were finishing up their recordings with their blues band. Debby didn’t want to spend months recording then go right out on the road. It was going to be too hard for her with her kids. Linda always wanted breaks to stay in California. Duke was anxious to get out on the road again, but we all decided we would start the tour in late September. It would finish in mid December. We would decide what to do about extending the tour as we got closer to the holiday break. We had not been to Europe in several years. That was a possibility for the following spring. It seemed that most had other interests now. The band was becoming secondary, much to my disappointment.
I headed home for the summer with Elise and the kids. I went to see Dr. Summers once or twice a week, but he was really only fueling my anger. I sat with the local pastor a few times as well. Pastor George discussed one day about the story of Samson. “Samson had great physical strength and accomplished much with it. However it was not until Samson trusted in what God could do through him that he could have his greatest victory.” He went on to tell me “Maybe God has a higher purpose for you than playing music. Possibly you are wasting the strength he has given to you with your anger?” He went on to say that “The Bible is full of stories about healing, but in many of them you must heal your soul first my friend Dylan. Your soul is damaged and you need to find forgiveness in your heart before you can heal your soul.” To me this was another sermon like the one I had gotten from Gordy months ago. I was not listening to either of them. The way I saw it, the guy who hit me was dead. I know Pastor George meant for me to let go of the anger towards God but I saw no reason for that. I didn’t understand why everyone kept asking me to let go of my anger. I was not angry with the people around me. I wanted to be left alone and sit in the hills with my wife and daughters and not be hounded with sermons and discussions about letting go of my anger. That only made me angrier inside. I was not harming anyone. Yes, I still knew my mind was not the same as before the accident. It was also possible I had lost my soul or it was damaged, but I didn’t need a reminder of that day in and day out.
We were to begin the tour in Atlanta and move our way up the east coast. We didn’t want to start in New York until we had some performances under our belts. We need the right sound before hitting the larger areas. We also were still fighting over the play list for the shows. The band didn’t want to play all the new songs of mine from the new album, I did. We had two weeks of rehearsals near my home in North Carolina to work it all out. We decided to do one of my “moody ones”, the one for Junior, one of Dukes, the one of Billy’s. We also added one of the older songs Linda and I updated. We also added two from the 60’s and two from the 50’s releases just for fun. We didn’t want to go on tour and play the same tired set from the last tour. We cut the time to just over two hours per show for this tour because even though my hand seemed fully healed, my back was still an issue at times.
The first single was released. The record guys picked one of the older songs that Linda and I had reworked. It was released a few weeks before the full Overture album and on the same day the 1960’s album was released. The 60’s album was named “Incognito Not So Much”. It was selling about as well as could be expected. The record company was pleased with the numbers. It didn’t have the same splash as the 50’s release because the mystery was gone as to who was in the band. It was the first new music that was released since the accident. I think it sold a few copies for that fact alone. It really was never meant to break record sales. Both were designed as more of a novelty.
The tour started as planned in Atlanta, the second week of September 1989. It was a good crowd and we put on a good show, but I was not into it at all. As much as I once loved to hop on stage, it seemed more of an exercise to work through each individual song. I felt my playing in most parts had become mechanical rather than the free flowing style I had for years. There was no adrenaline rush from performing in front of a screaming crowd. It really had become a chore to remember my spots and where my fingers needed to land on the neck of my guitar. I had practiced them all summer. Even though I could play the notes, the feeling was dead. I don’t think my band knew the difference though it was obvious to me that my style and desire to play was waning. I kept telling myself it would get better. I was sure after a few nights on tour the desire to play would come back to me.
When we arrived to play the Washington D.C area, we had Sam my driver from the accident come back stage for the concert. We also brought him onstage to play a song with us, but before the show he quietly told me he had not picked up his instrument since the accident. I asked him to come on stage and hold a guitar and strum along. I had the sound guy turn off his amp. He agreed reluctantly. After the show, I had a long talk with him and told him that I had no hard feelings towards him at all. He needed to get on with his life. He was not to blame in any way. I don’t know how much good it did. It would be the only time I would see him after the accident.
We headed up to Philly for two shows at the Spectrum with my brother coming to both shows. The dope wore his Oakland Raiders football jersey to the first show in Philadelphia. I introduced him near the end of our performance. He walked on stage briefly, but didn’t understand why some would boo him. Well, this town was notorious for their sports and a Raiders jersey was not his best choice of fashion. I gave him one of Sasha’s now famous football jerseys for the second show. I think it was the first time I had laughed on stage the entire tour watching him come on stage with that Sasha jersey draped across his chest. I did sell him out though when I told the crowd he was a Raiders fan. He got booed off stage. I loved it. I know he enjoyed it too, even if he pretended otherwise.
We had a day off before heading up to New York and the Garden. I knew I had to get my act together mentally, if only for one night. It was the night we gave all the proceeds to the Veterans groups and I wanted to be at my best that night. I stopped taking all medications for a few days in advance to see if it would help my playing.
We played three sold out performances in Madison Square Garden. The place was full of energy, so we added a few songs each night. My playing did seem more focused, but I felt a sense of anxiety by the time we reached last day in New York. I started to take my medications again. My hand was not an issue and my back was not too bad. I became very anxious and nervous at some points in the second show, so I thought it best to start taking my pills again.
I had no idea if that was the reason for me feeling that way, but I felt a dependency on the medications. I hated that feeling. But I didn’t want to turn my life upside down while on tour. The place was littered with other musicians each night. We asked one or two to join us each night on stage. Skunk, who I had not seen in years, was there and jumped on stage to play “Johnny B. Goode” for our third encore. He was there the third night and told me that he had spoken with Gordy about me many times. He informed me that “Gordy is very worried about you Stu. You need to call him and make it right.” There were only a few from my past who could get away with calling me Stu, he was one of them. I told Skunk that “I really didn’t have much to say to Gordy.” Skunk and his band were about to embark on their first tour in many years and he was excited about that. We chatted for a while, but it was time for me to get on the bus for the ride up to Boston.
The album was getting mixed reviews from the critics. It was selling well along the east coast but not as well on the west coas
t of the United States. We always were far more popular east of the Mississippi River. Our current tour mostly concentrated in the area where we were the most popular, but we had a few shows scheduled for the west coast towards the end. As was now a tradition we would end in San Diego and make it a free event for any military or retired military person who wanted to attend. Carl and the Veterans Agency had it all down now as to how to give out the tickets. The record company loved the idea that we end like that with each tour.
There were only a few nights that I got a rush from being on stage. I assumed it was the medications, but maybe I had lost my desire to entertain. I think the band was starting to catch on because Duke, who had become our musical director, made one or two of my solos a bit shorter and gave them to Sasha and Jack the new keyboard player. The worst part to it all was that I really didn’t care. A few years ago I never would have allowed that to happen. It was also more of a grind to get on and off the bus rides this time around. I would sit on the bus or in the hotel most days, until it was time to head to the show.
Dr. Summers would contact me once a week on the tour for a phone conversation, but I mostly sat on the one end without much to say. He seemed to think he was helping me. I seemed to think it was a waste of a phone call. However I was told for some kind of insurance reasons, I had to make the calls. At least that’s what Carl and Mr. Altos had convinced me. It was easier to sit on the end of the phone for an hour a week, than it was to get the calls from Carl and Mr. Altos insisting that I call Dr. Summers.
A Beautiful Song: A Musical Soul Story Page 18
