Joe Porcaro
Father of the amazingly talented and sorely missed Jeff Porcaro, his other boys incredibly gifted as well, Joe was a mainstay on the Los Angeles studio scene for years. During my first soundstage film scoring date, which was for Pat Williams and the movie Used Cars, Joe was the first person to come over to where the drums were set up and welcome me to the scene. He would often look over with an approving and reassuring glance during this and any other film date we happened to work on together. I haven’t done that many film dates to be sure, especially in comparison to some of my L.A. Musicians Local 47 colleagues, but I treasure all of the work memories, and none more so than Joe’s beatific smiling face.
Joe Testa
Formerly associated with Yamaha and now with Vic Firth, Joe has been a steadfast supporter and dear friend for years. Joe knows how to think big and is helping to bring the drum business into the future with his advocacy and use of new media. He pioneered the legendary Yamaha “Groove Night” events, and he is now completing a series on videos documenting how Vic Firth Inc. makes sticks, which involved inviting a bunch of us to the factory up in Maine where we were filmed during a tour of the stick-making assembly line. I never realized how much love and care can go into the making of a drumstick. Now I know. It was painful to say goodbye to Joe when I left Yamaha; I’m glad that we’re back together on the same team at Vic Firth, Inc.
John Abercrombie
Probably the most interesting and compelling musician I’ve played with, and one of the funniest, too. Early morning departures were always more bearable when John would offer an observation like: “You know, there’s nothing like a good cup of coffee in the morning — and this is nothing like a good cup of coffee.” “Manfred” Eicher became “My Man, Fred.” “I’ll be right back” became “I’ll be white black.” And so on. But his music making was totally serious and uncompromising. One time, when the trio finished its first set of a week-long stint at Joe Segal’s Jazz Showcase in Chicago, and after some bewilderingly modern-sounding stuff, Joe Segal got up to announce the coming attractions, punctuated with a “Be sure to come back next week to hear some REAL music” admonishment to the audience. I was talking to some friends when I heard this, reacting by saying, “Hey Joe, come on!” and Joe replied, “Don’t you ‘come on’ me; we’re going to have a talk about this as soon as I’m done announcing up here,” which was followed by a challenge issued from Marc Johnson: “Why don’t we have an open discussion about it right here and now?” The audience started to get in on the act, cat-calling and the like. John really had it out with Joe after that in the lobby. All was made well when we agreed to include at least one Charlie Parker tune during each set.
John DeChristopher
Lennie DiMuzio’s heir apparent at Zildjian (Lennie is now working for Bob Zildjian at Sabian), Johnny D displays even more energy than the redoubtable Mr. DiMuzio did, due in great part to his running regimen. Anyone who wants to know how an artist relations person should act need go no further than John and his team at Zildjian. He’s a class act and a dear friend. He is married to Kelly Firth (one of Vic’s two lovely daughters, Tracy being the other). John retired early in 2013; we will all miss him.
John Scofield
Easily the hippest guitarist in the land, John is one of the few musicians of the “baby boomer” generation to have created such a distinctive musical voice. One note and you’re pretty sure it’s Sco; two notes and you’re certain. Great guy, and his wife Susan is one of the smartest people I know. They just became grandparents; congratulations, Susan and John!
John Taylor and Palle Danielsson
Geniuses and stalwart touring partners for many a European trip, we made four recordings for ECM before inner-group tensions gave way to…well, separate ways. It was a great trio, and I miss playing with both of these guys, even though I get to, on occasion, play with one or the other. Singular, singing, and strong, thank you John and Palle for some of the finest musical experiences I’ve known.
Kenny Werner
My hero. His book Effortless Mastery is a masterpiece, and so is everything the man plays.
Larry Goldings
One of the newer of my keyboard acquaintances, Larry and I first worked together on an Al Jarreau album in 2004 and have done several recordings in L.A. since his move out west. An incredible Hammond B3 organist as well as piano player, some of our collaborations include a trio album with Bob Mintzer, another trio album with bassist Chris Minh Doky, plus an orchestra album arranged by Vince Mendoza and Vince’s newest solo album, Nights On Earth. Larry is not only a terrific musician but also a very funny guy with lots of humorous videos posted on the Internet. He does a hilarious Chico Hamilton impersonation, every bit as good as John Abercrombie’s. In general, jazz musicians do some of the best impersonations outside of professional comedians and actors. It must have something to do with the ear.
Lennie DiMuzio
A “Zildjian” by any other name, Lennie was as much a brother to Armand — and to every drummer who ever played Zildjian — as possible. Lennie is soulful, irreverent, funny, brilliant, supportive, and remains an indispensible part of cymbal lore. Co-founder of the “Junior Executives With-Out Power” (JEWOPs) threesome — along with Jim Coffin (formerly of Yamaha) and Lloyd McCausland (Remo) — Lennie liked to tweak the nose of the music industry while defining the role of artist relations like no other. Lennie was tireless on behalf of “his” drummers, and we all have a lot to thank him for.
Lois Erskine
My oldest sibling. One of the most brilliant people I’ve ever known. Whatever awareness I have of politics and the world can be credited to her. While I’ve stayed “left,” I think she’s turned more “right” with age (she watches Fox News!). That said, Lois is a tremendous writer and observer of life. If nothing else, I hope that this book will inspire her to finally sit down and compile her writings from over the years; I gave her my precious bundle of letters that I’ve saved from her over the years for that very purpose. Now married to an Italian radiologist named Roberto, her children, Tarik and Tonia, have both grown into wonderful adults, married to great spouses. Lois deserves several chapters alone. Next book.
Manfred Eicher
The man with the vision and the sound. Uncompromising producer and record company executive, agent provocateur for the best of musical purposes but not the easiest of rides. A hands-on producer who knows what he likes as well as what he’s talking about. Manfred Eicher is responsible for some of the most beautiful-sounding recorded music in history.
Mary Chapin Carpenter
Mary Chapin is my newest musical friend. I worked with her and producer Matt Rollings and Vince Mendoza in London at AIR Studios — the same studio and orchestra (more or less) that were part of the Joni Mitchell Both Sides Now sessions. I love her songs and her voice, and I love her sensibility and being. One of the finest musical experiences I’ve ever enjoyed.
Maya Erskine
Every father loves his girl the most, and my daughter knows this, so she is suspicious sometimes of anything nice I say to or about her. But here goes: Maya is the most soulful person I know, and she possesses greater insight to the human condition than she can possibly be aware of at this point in her life. And while she exhibits a natural impatience at the long, slow, and drawn-out process of becoming a working actress, I know in my heart, brain, and artistic soul that she’s the most talented Erskine to come off the assembly line yet, and I’m looking forward to her discovering that when the time is right. She’s also completely hilarious. Maya was just signed as a series regular on amazon.com’s new comedy show Betas. She is very funny in this as well as in her own on-line series MANA.
Michael Brecker
I first heard the tenor saxophone playing of Michael Brecker on an LP titled Score that his older brother, Randy, put out in 1969. Randy was featured on the cover wearing corduroy bell-bottomed pants with boots and a fringe jacket, a style I emulated that approaching sophomore year in high
school (I was 15 at the time). Michael must have been a mere 18 years old at the time of the recording, a former art student turned tenor titan-to-be, exploring the outer reaches of the horn amidst the stylistic confluence of Coltrane meeting Sly & the Family Stone and King Curtis. I don’t mind saying that I immediately recognized Michael’s voice as being one that would accompany me throughout the remainder of my life. A few months later, a group of us were standing around a stereo record player in awe as we listened to the playing of Mike Brecker and drummer Billy Cobham duking it out in the band Dreams. Here was Elvin and Coltrane for our generation! Two explorers on the edge of possibility.
I’ve never known a more dedicated musician than Michael Brecker. Mike never stopped practicing, never stopped trying to improve himself, whether on the horn or composing or in simply and complexly being human. Mike always looked for the better and best way, and he always did so in a state of complete humility. And it didn’t stop with the music. Mike dedicated the last half of his life helping addicts to overcome their dependence, and even transformed the last years of his life into an effort to raise the consciousness about the need for more comprehensive bone-marrow donor testing in our society to help persons suffering from leukemia-related diseases. Mike never complained once about his lot in life: following a two-and-a-half-year battle with MDS (myelodysplastic syndrome) and then leukemia, Michael passed away. American society elevated baseball player Lou Gehrig to the highest plane of respect because of his bravery and selflessness regarding the affliction that was ultimately named for him; I nominate Mike Brecker to the same level of international stature.
So, I became a huge Brecker fan at the age of 14 or 15, By the time I was 24, I was in the recording studio, playing drums on a Michel Colombier album that would house a couple of Mike Brecker tenor solos atop my drum tracks! I was already in Weather Report, we had just finished recording both the Mr. Gone and 8:30 albums, and yet this was the proudest and most exciting moment in my drumming life: I was on a track with MIKE BRECKER! I remember telling every available friend about this at the time. Mike Brecker was FUNKY and Mike Brecker was hipper than hip. He was MIKE BRECKER. We wound up appearing on some 40 albums together and literally played hundreds of sessions and gigs.
Mike’s playing always contained the elements of life and death. It was, in a sense, death defying. Mike believed in a solo attaining the “5th gear” in terms of emotional intensity. Mike always pushed the envelope. This is a guy who practiced the saxophone inside of a garbage can so as to obtain reverb. He also jammed with drummer Eric Gravatt during his formative years in Philadelphia. He was the leading post-Coltrane improviser, who managed to define a new standard of musical excellence, excitement, and fun for several generations of music lovers. Mike gave. Not to mention the countless hours he spent helping others in leaving their addictions behind.
May any and all of us attain one tenth of the selflessness that Michael Brecker achieved in his short life. To quote an email from John Scofield’s wife, Susan, immediately upon Mike’s passing: “I’ve been thinking about what Michael said to me this summer — he said he’s had an amazing life — so much more than a lot of people get and for that he was really grateful. He said he didn’t have the right to complain. (I disagreed.) He was quiet and hopeful and not one bit self-pitying. Michael was a really good man and a huge talent. At least he’s leaving behind a tremendous legacy — and I don’t just mean all the musicianship, recordings, accolades, and the humongous talent. He helped change a lot of lives in a number of arenas.”
Michael Brecker may prove to be one of the most universally loved musician ever. Certainly, he was the defining musical stylist of our time. How lucky we all are to have been in his company.
Michel Colombier
His eponymous album has some of Jaco’s best playing, many of those tracks with Gadd. Jaco was really excited and proud of this album after he had worked on it with Steve. Jaco and Michel really “got” each other.
Mitch Forman
His album Train of Thought featured some of the more audacious drumming of my early career, mainly in “Wonderama,” which we recorded late at night during a no-holds-barred session with Marc Johnson on bass. The song inspired us to totally go for it in a fusion sort of way. The tune “Milton” fared better in the playing discretion department. Mea culpa; all of that being said, it remains an impressive recording. Mitch and I also worked on the Gary Burton/Pat Metheny Reunion album and did the subsequent tour. Mitch would play an energetic solo during the basic tracking on Reunion and then overdub a more lyrical solo to replace what he had done; meanwhile Will Lee and I were responding to his original playing, and this happened more than a couple of times, so I turned his keyboards way down in my headphone monitor mix. I didn’t want to be distracted by a solo that was going to be replaced anyway, but it still hurt his feelings when he came into the drum booth and looked at the headphone mixer console only to see that his keys were turned off. Sorry, Mitch!
Mom
A beautiful woman who put up with a lot of less-than-beautiful behavior from her family (she could respond in kind, too). So many memories, none stronger than her loving smile. Mom took me to Broadway musicals when I was a kid, and this heightened my awareness of melody, drama, and spectacle. My first Broadway show was Subways are for Sleeping, a failed production that had some great tunes. She supported me in all of my musical wants but allowed me to hide behind her skirt when I was too scared to get up onstage and play. She kept me home from school to watch a rocket launch on television or to witness the Civil Rights marchers in Selma, Alabama. She wanted me to know what was going on. I inherited her mercurial temper with the ability to go from unbelievably nice to completely ballistic anger without the in-between ramp-up that most people display. She died of a heart attack in my father’s arms. I will always love and miss her.
Nancy Erskine
Five years older than me and closest in age, her boyfriends taught me as much about jazz as anyone by bringing over albums and introducing me to Elvin Jones, Tony Williams, Jack DeJohnette, et al. Nancy married Kenton bassist John Worster shortly after I joined the band, and their son Damian is now tearing up the music scene (and playing in my New Trio). When I first went to college, she shared her rented farmhouse with me in Bloomington, Indiana. Nancy went on to earn a Ph.D and enjoyed a successful career as a psychologist. Now retired, she is married to a terrific guy named Bill.
Patrick Williams
I’ve been a fan of Pat’s writing ever since I was a freshman in high school. His music is always fun, swinging, and majestic at the same time. I first worked with Pat on the film score for Used Cars in 1980, and I drummed on his Sinatraland and Aurora albums. At a recent special screening of Used Cars, an audience member asked Pat afterwards what was his “best inspiration to write music.” His answer: “A deadline.” (Pat wrote the entire score in less than three weeks.) He’s not only fast, but gracious: When I went up to him following a recent concert where everything had gone wonderfully well, except for one really huge mistake I made — a mistake that was obvious to everyone in the room, especially the guy standing right in front of the band — he merely said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Classy guy. Here’s a note I got from Pat afterwards:
“Peter...please permit me an indulgence. I have always felt, from the time I started to listen to big bands at about age 3, that the drums were the engine, and often dictated the musical personality of a particular band. But more importantly, it was the almost unconscious connection between the leader (writer, arranger) and the drums. Think of the great records and how you can't imagine a different drummer. Whether it was Mel and Thad, Tiny and Woody, Louis B. and Duke, Jo Jones or Sonny Payne with Basie, Joe Morello and the Brubeck quartet, and on and on. There is a remarkable musical connection that sometimes defies intellectual description. I think I feel that with you.
Thanks, P”
Like I said: a classy guy.
Peter Donald
My
best musician friend in L.A., he and his wife, Darlene Chan, have been like family to Mutsy and me ever since we moved to Santa Monica. In fact, they ensured that we would move to Santa Monica by getting us in touch with their real estate agent when we began looking for a home in southern California. I knew Peter and Darlene back in the Weather Report days: Darlene was producing all sorts of festival gigs including the Aurex Festivals in Japan and the Playboy Festival at the Hollywood Bowl. I was getting a lot of compliments intended for Peter Donald when I first moved to L.A., as our names are similar and we looked alike. I would always smile and thank the person for telling me that I was one of their favorite drummers, only for my smile to dull and wane a bit when they would continue, “So what’s it like to work with Toshiko Akiyoshi?” I think that maybe Peter got a few of my compliments, too. At any rate, he has been like a big brother to me for all of the years we’ve been in L.A. He is also the world’s greatest Sonny Payne fills fan and expert extant. And he cooks a mean barbecue. He co-led a group with Tom Ranier and Abe Laboreil Sr. called “3prime.” Peter Donald has retired from playing, but in his own prime, he was one of the finest drummers I’ve ever heard.
Rick Mattingly
Rick got me into the book-writing game way back when I was living in Manhattan. We spent many an enjoyable hour sharing barbecue and drum stories, all of which resulted in a number of Modern Drummer and Percussive Notes magazine cover stories and drum books. He has an unerring eye when it comes to text, and he has been unwavering in his support all of these years. Thanks, Rick.
Rita Marcotulli
Italian pianist and composer, I first met Rita while she was playing with Billy Cobham’s band. We later worked together as part of her trio and a collaborative trio with bassist Palle Danielsson. Rita’s a lovely woman but is also one of the boys; she can tell the worst jokes with the best of them, each one followed by “Ees terrible!” from her. Her father was the recording engineer for many Ennio Morricone soundtracks recorded in Rome, and she attended many of those same sessions as a child. Some of my most memorable musical experiences in Italy have been with her.
No Beethoven: An Autobiography & Chronicle of Weather Report Page 24
