Tag: bass guitar

  • For Thomas Alvin “Block” Atkinson (Originally posted on April 8, 2017)

    For Thomas Alvin “Block” Atkinson (Originally posted on April 8, 2017)

      Making friends with someone is a special thing to happen in our lives. But to have a friend, a true friend, for many years in our lives is a pure blessing and something to be cherished by us all. I have had some good friends in my lifetime, most of us have, but there are always one or two people who stand out in our lives as true friends. For me, it was my friend Thomas Alvin “Block” Atkinson. You see, my friend Thomas passed away on April 2, 2017, from bladder cancer. He was as special a friend to me as I can ever remember. I just wanted to impart a few memories and feelings about him in this blog post.

      I met Thomas back in 1982, in Apple Valley, California. I had returned from my service tour in Japan in late 1979 to be stationed in southern California, and I had the music deep within me. I had started my own band in 1981 that did original and cover modern jazz music; it was called Fat Sound Incorporated or FSI. The band practiced at my little apartment that I had gotten off base from where I was stationed, and I thought that we had developed our own sound. Once that happened, I had the confidence to book the band around the southern California area. We developed a bit of a small but steady reputation in the area, and the word got out among the music lovers in that area. From what I remember, the guitar player in the band knew Thomas before I did; he had told me that he knew a good percussion player who lived in the same area that we were living.

      The band was expanding; we had started out as a three-piece band but had added a keyboard player and a saxophone player as well. By this time, we had begun to rehearse at the home of the saxophone player, in the art studio that was detached from the main house. It was there that I met Thomas, he had come over to our rehearsal and brought along his percussion gear with him. He set up and began to play music with us, and he added something to the band’s sound that I liked. Our early conversations were about that music we loved and about the music artists that we admired. There were a lot of laughs between us as Thomas had a sharp sense of humor, but he was also a very intelligent person to converse with. He understood a great deal about the world that we live in as well as its history. Often, I would be quiet and let him speak about what he knew, and what he was learning about.

      The thing about Thomas was that he never stopped learning; he was hungry for knowledge and sought out the answers to the many situations in life that so many of us find ourselves in. He knew about food like nobody that I have met, and once we got to know each better, he would invite me over to his home and cook some of the best meals that I have had. He knew through our conversations that I also had an affinity for good food, and he was fascinated with all of the countries that I had traveled to and sampled the local cuisine. From speaking with him, I knew that he would have loved to have traveled to the countries that I had visited to also sample the local cuisine.

      The thing that we did the most though was to play music together. Once he had joined FSI, he truly loved the shows that we did, and I booked the band in as many venues as I could. He enjoyed the regular shows that we played at the local air base that I was stationed at; I had signed a contract with the manager of the air base NCO club to play weekly for a year at a time. It was a great time to play in those days; the club patrons appreciated our band coming in and playing music from our hearts for them. Thomas also loved the fact that I had booked shows at the famous Lighthouse Café in Hermosa Beach, California. He spoke glowingly for years afterward about those shows; he knew that the very best jazz artists had played there over the years and he was proud to say that he too had made some great music there.

      The band stopped going by the name of FSI in the mid 1980’s, so Thomas came up with the name of the GUSS band, the name was a play on the some of the comedy work of a famous comedian at the time. We began to play cover songs for music, and Thomas took on some of the lead vocal duties for the band. He was a joy to play music with, and he always kept the audience in mind with his playful banter with them, during and in between songs. He also would book the band from time to time, and even though I had moved away to the Los Angeles area I would return to the High Desert region to do shows with Thomas and the GUSS band.

      Thomas was smart enough to realize that the odds of becoming a financial success as a band were very small, so he left the band to go to college and earn his teaching credentials. Once he had achieved his degrees, he began teaching in the Victor Valley area, something that he did until he retired only a couple of years ago. Once I had moved away from the Victor Valley area to Los Angeles, we kept in touch by telephone and I would occasionally make the drive up to visit with him.

      When I moved away to Europe, we were out of contact with each other for a few years. But like the special friend that he was to me, once I had returned to the states to live, I called Thomas up and he was delighted to know that I had come back. While I settled in Las Vegas, Nevada, it was only a 2 ½ hour drive to visit him in the High Desert region of southern California. I drove to visit him in 2010 for a wonderful band reunion with the GUSS band, and to also play music and celebrate the birthday of the father of the band’s saxophone player. We had a great time reminiscing about the early days of the band and the many shows we had done together. Thomas also had stories of his time in the classroom with his many students, I could tell how much they loved him as their teacher and how he had prepared them for life as the adults that they would become. 

      I visited Thomas once again in 2011 after I had gone through a breakup with a woman that I had loved dearly for many years. Thomas had soothing and kind words to help my spirit, and he had words of wisdom for me about what I had just gone through. I was so thankful to him during that visit, he really helped me and my emotions turn a corner toward the positive things that life has to offer. The things that he said during that visit still ring in my ears to this day.

      Recording at home was of great interest to both of us. Thomas would call me on the telephone often with questions about his audio recording software; I would always give him the best answers that I could. He would then record more new music; he really loved exotic percussion instruments, and he added them to so many of his recordings. He spent time learning about Native American flutes, and it was through Thomas that I learned that there was a flute with a key center developed for each of the human body’s chakras. I loved the way that he applied these flutes to his recordings; he truly understood what they were for and how to properly utilize them.

      Thomas knew that I was working in professional audio, so he asked me to add bass guitar tracks to his recordings, mix them down and put the recordings through the audio mastering process for him. I was more than happy to do so, and he sent me his recordings through the internet for me to work on. We completed many songs together using the internet as a conduit between us. I thought that it would be nice for people in the world to hear his music, so I talked to him about putting together an online profile where people could visit and listen to his recordings. He told me that he was not so adept at doing something like that online, so I offered to build him a profile at the musician’s website called ReverbNation. He said alright, and I proceeded to build him his own profile at ReverbNation. When I had completed the work of building his profile, he gave me a list of the songs that we had worked on together to be posted at the site. I did as he asked, and I posted the songs that he created to his new online profile at ReverbNation. He was very happy with what I had done, and he was glad that we both put in good time and effort on his music for all to hear. It is World Music that he created; it is not of the standard modern fare that is so widely available and common today.

      Now that Thomas has passed on, I have been sad and filled with tears this week. But I know that Thomas would want me to be strong in spirit, and to remember our good times together. He was a joyful man even though he had been confined to a wheelchair for much of his life. He was loved by me and by so many other people, he made so many lives brighter with his kind words, his hearty laugh, and his deep wisdom. I miss you very much Thomas, and I am glad to have been able to have you as my friend, a true friend, who was as close to me as a brother could be. I love you my friend.

      Rest In Paradise Thomas.

    Portrait photo of Thomas Atkinson
    Jerome Lee with Thomas “Block” Atkinson in Apple Valley, California 2010
    My band Fat Sound Incorporated (FSI) in a promotional photo, Apple Valley, California 1984
    Thomas “Block” Atkinson
  • Prettiest Girl (Originally posted on February 14, 2017)

    Prettiest Girl (Originally posted on February 14, 2017)

      Now, at my more advanced age, the memories and feelings from many years about relationships between men and women has led to a deeper meaning for me behind the song I wrote some time ago titled “Prettiest Girl”. This Valentine’s Day 2017 will find millions of people spending time with a special loved one or significant other, and I am sure that looks will have little to do with how people in love feel about each other.

      When I was a kid growing up, I would see how the older folks around me treated their spouse or significant other. Television in the 1960’s and the 1970’s had really been pushing how a person looks to others, so there was a large segment of the population who felt that how your appearance was, how you looked to others, was the barometer to bettering the odds of finding love in life. But even at that early age, I began to see what was really going on with people through watching my elders and how they treated each other, it was different than what I saw on television. In fact, those times when people and relatives would visit our home when I was young, watched television together, the comments about what was shown on commercials that passed as beauty or attractiveness would be met with either disdain or even unbelief.

      “Ain’t no women look like that in real everyday life” the women would proclaim. And for the men, when an absolutely ridiculous commercial advertisement came on the television about men’s appearance, it would be met with laughter followed by some kind of joke. I began to realize that these people were not together solely because of their looks, there were things that ran much deeper between them that kept them together as couples.

      But hey, I was still a kid, and there were still some things for me to learn about a person’s looks. Being in junior high school and high school with other kids did not make this easier for me as some of the kids would often put on a fashion show with what they wore to school daily. If you didn’t “keep up appearances” by some, then you were deemed less attractive. Keep in mind that this is a school full of young students all trying to find their own way but unknowingly being heavily influenced by what they all saw on television when it came to the standards of beauty and attractiveness. And generally, most all the kids watched television back then.

      I mentioned in an earlier blog about my sisters, growing up with them was very much a leading guide as how to ascertain my views and feelings about what I thought was attractive or beautiful in women. They told me that some of the most beautiful women are the ones that you don’t see on television, they are the ones that you don’t see in the fashion magazines or other media. They told me that the most beautiful women that I will meet will not be from where I might have imagined, instead they would come from a different place that I would most likely not be aware of.

      I listened to what they told me, and as I grew older and went out into life on my own, I found that it is true about realizing a loved one or a significant other’s appearance. The entire person is what is attractive to us as people, the inside of the person, their spirit and love and empathy for us keep us close to one another in life.

      While I was still a kid and the older relatives and friends of the family would visit our home in the late spring or during the summer, the inevitable barbecue would get to cooking and the drinks would flow. And as the drinks flowed and the comments became a bit looser coming from the adults, I loved it best when they would openly proclaim their affection to their significant other. The men would say the funniest things about how they did not care so much for their spouse’s looks versus her heart and spirit for him. The women would say the funniest things too, and they would say how they are glad to have their man just the way he is. One day, I heard one of my uncles say to his wife “you my prettiest girl of them all”, and she just adored hearing him say this to her in front of others. That moment stayed with me too, and I began to understand what that really meant, what my uncle was really saying about his wife.

      Later in my life, I had the opportunity to understand this view with my own relationships with women. Those relationships were certainly influenced by what I heard and saw with my elders growing up, about looking at and experiencing the whole person. Not basing what a person looks like as a barometer for an enduring relationship. This thinking stayed with me, and while I was living in Los Angeles in the early 1990’s I wrote my song “Prettiest Girl”. And while living in Europe during the late 1990’s I recorded “Prettiest Girl” based on my own life experiences as well as what I experienced with my elders growing up.

      And while I have not yet married in my own lifetime, I always wonder if I will find my own “Prettiest Girl” someday. But I do wish the most loving Valentine’s Day 2017 to all of you out there who loves your spouse or your significant other wholly, no matter their looks.

      Much Love.

  • Travel – How to get to the Show? (Originally posted on November 23, 2016)

    Travel – How to get to the Show? (Originally posted on November 23, 2016)

      When I look back at having done so many shows and gigs over the course of nearly five decades as a bass player, I am taken aback at the modes of transportation that I and various fellow band members have taken to arrive at the event. I remember early on for me it was buses, big, yellow, and lots of them, to get me to and from the many concerts that I played with my school district’s orchestras.

      Traveling within my school district was rather easy; the distances to travel to the district schools were not too far apart from each other. While there was not much travel for the elementary school orchestra that I attended, the amount of travel picked up considerably once I began to attend junior high school. During my seventh-grade year was the first time I heard the term “exchange orchestras” spoken by my elders. They told us orchestra students that we would join together with the other junior high orchestra in the school district to create one large orchestra. We were told that both junior high schools have been rehearsing a few of the same pieces during the school year. I was anxious to hear what two orchestras combined together would sound like.

      When the two school district junior high schools got together for the first time during my seventh-grade year, it was my first exchange orchestra experience. We traveled as an orchestra from our school to the other junior high school in our district; it was very different than traveling to another school as a sports team. But we still had our own school spirit, and all of the players in our orchestra wanted to play their best in the presence of another school orchestra. The big yellow school bus was the way to get there, with their firm to hard dark green seats, no seat belts, and so long and cavernous inside.

      As I moved on from eighth grade and became a high school freshman ninth grader, the travels that the school orchestra took were numerous when I look back on those days. Those big yellow school bus rides to events and concerts were not without the occasional mishap before traveling. Somehow, the emergency back door on one bus came open and an acoustic bass tumbled right out of it. The bus was parked at the time, and nobody got hurt, but I can tell you that the sound of an acoustic bass hitting and crashing onto the hard pavement in that parking lot was a sound that I will never forget. A sound that is hard to describe indeed!

      When I was playing with the high school orchestra, the travel became more extensive, and we did exchange concerts with high schools that were outside our school district with high schools on Long Island. And more of those big yellow school buses to ride around in. They were always an experience to be in. And for special event use, I had the privilege to ride in a station wagon car that was painted school bus yellow and adorned with the requisite lights to identify it as an official school bus. When I was a high school sophomore, a group of five orchestra players, including me, had been granted permission to travel to the elementary schools and demonstrate playing our chosen instruments for the young students. I remember how cool it was to get out of class and go play at the elementary schools that year. Hey, these are some of the perks for playing music well I realized.

      Travel by car became the main mode of transport after high school for a while. But soon came the vans, and the trucks that were often rented to get to shows with the band I joined right out of high school. I remember that most of the guys in that band would take turns riding along with the band’s equipment technician in either a van or a truck to the band’s shows. I took my turn in the van mostly and got to see Long Island and New York City from the view of an equipment van. Unique to be sure. But all of us wanted to ride with the band’s manager to the gigs; she had a small two-seater British sports car that we all loved. I got to ride to a couple of the band’s shows with her, she could really drive that car and that car could really fly when you stepped on in. That was fun for me.

      When I spent time in Japan in my early twenties, we got to band gigs mostly by cars and vans. The occasional gig there would be an equipment truck or two for the band’s backline and P.A. system. And just when I thought that I would not ride in one again, the band reserved a big school bus that was dark blue in color this time, to travel a long distance to some shows on the north part of Honshu Island. It was winter and cold, but that big bus had a heater that worked and that saved the day for us. And it was nice to travel at the height that a bus seats you. The view was very nice, and the landscape of Japan was beautiful to look at. I never said never again about riding in a big school bus, because, well, it could happen at any time!

      Most of the shows that I traveled to in the U.S. as a bass player have been by cars, but vans and rental trucks are included here as well. I would rent a truck sometimes for one band that I was leading in the high desert of southern California; we would make the 200-mile round trip to Los Angeles and do our shows there. The band would try to ride together to save on fuel, and so I would always try to rent a travel truck that had a compartment door leading to the cargo area in the back of the truck. The guys would bring something soft to sit on and ride on top of the backline and P.A. gear. We were all young and having fun in a good band, I enjoyed driving the truck and having a laugh with the band members.

      But as I moved on to Los Angeles as a bass player, the modes of travel began to include airline travel to and from shows. Traveling with the band on an airline is one of the fun experiences to have as a musician, I think. There is nothing like knowing that reason that you are riding on this aircraft is because you practiced at home as a musician, and you rehearsed very well as a band. I thought about the major label artists that I saw early on in my musical career and how they often traveled by air to their shows. I thought that it was a real privilege to travel by air to shows, and I felt that I would do so for as long as the opportunities presented themselves.

      Once I made the move to Europe and to the Netherlands, it became surprising at all of the modes of transportation that I took to get to shows. I traveled to shows in cars and vans when they were long distance from where I was living in Amsterdam, which was normal. And the travel by air to get to the concerts in Italy and elsewhere were special indeed. To travel by tram or bus in the city was easy once I learned the city routes. But what set apart my mode of travel once again was my use of a bicycle while I was living in Amsterdam. I walked around Amsterdam and used its public transport system during my first year living there. But once I got a good touring bicycle, that was how I got around for most of all of the remaining years that I spent there. You see, there is a very real bicycle culture in the Netherlands, and people there take their bicycle system and infrastructure quite seriously. It is possible to ride your bicycle safely from one end of the country to the other there, clearly marked bicycle paths that include traffic signals are everywhere, in every small village or town to every big city there is a place to ride your bicycle.

      And people who decide to drive cars there know that the person on a bicycle has the right of way, but things do happen. I did get hit by a taxi one day while I was riding my bicycle, I was not hurt too badly, and I was much angrier than hurt. I shouted at the driver, he knew what he had done, but he and his passenger stayed behind locked doors and rolled up windows as I shouted at them. When I was done, we went our separate ways.

      I thought to travel to as many shows as possible on my bicycle in the city of Amsterdam would be my way of getting around. I had purchased a touring bicycle that had a rack on the back wheel and a slightly smaller rack in the front wheel. These came in handy as I could wear my bass travel bag with my bass inside of it gently on the back wheel rack of my bicycle. On the front wheel would be my backpack that had cables and spare parts and sometimes gig clothes for the stage. Keep in mind that when on a bicycle, you’re out in the elements. The winters are very cold in Amsterdam, so I would dress very warmly to make sure that I would not get too cold on the way to my shows. And dressing properly afterward to make sure that I would be warm on the way home after a very late night/early morning gig when it was really cold outside.

      I also keep in mind how many people got around by boat in Amsterdam; there are more than we think. I always loved a boat ride on the canals in Amsterdam; each one was very special to me. It is the most different way that I have seen a city anywhere I have lived. So, I think that the shows that I played on the canal touring boats were just great. I met a guitarist and his sister who were doing a duo show on the touring boats and they asked me to join them. I did, and I must say that to ride my bicycle down to the dock with my bass and get on board the touring boat and play music for the entire 90-minute tour were some of the most memorable experiences that I had while living in Amsterdam.  I really liked doing that and I am so thankful to that guitarist for inviting me to join him and his sister. 

      I enjoyed my mode of transport by bicycle during my years of living in Amsterdam. I finally wore out the first bicycle that I bought, and I went back to the same bicycle repair shop that I bought it from and got another one. I rode that second bicycle until I left Amsterdam, and funnily enough I went back to the same bicycle repair shop and sold it back to the shop owner. We both laughed about this, and he was happy that I had taken good care of that bicycle so someone else could use it.

      Returning to the States, it has been back to cars and vans to travel to shows with along with the occasional airline mode of travel. It was strange when I sold my bicycle in Amsterdam; I went back to walking and using public transport to get around. But when I see the new driverless cars beginning to populate the roads here in the U.S., perhaps it is just a matter of time that I will get the privilege to travel to a show in one. And that will be a story in itself indeed. Happy trails to your next show and stay safe out there!

    Jerome in flight to a studio recording date in Parker, Colorado, 2014
    Jerome traveling to a show date on Sardinia Island, Italy 2008
    A sign showing the way back from a show by Jerome Lee City on Sardinia Island, Italy 2008
    Jerome Lee in Hesperia, California visiting an old friend for a reunion gig in Apple Valley, California, 2010
    Jerome would park his bicycle among the thousands of bicycles at Central Station, Amsterdam, the Netherlands during the late 1990’s
    Jerome Lee would very often travel by tram or by bus in order to get to shows, rehearsals, and giving music lessons in Amsterdam, the Netherlands. Photo taken of Marnixstraat, Amsterdam, NL in 2000
    Sometimes a school bus gets the job done to get to and from the show!

  • The U.S.O., Bob Hope and Me (Originally posted on November 11, 2016)

    The U.S.O., Bob Hope and Me (Originally posted on November 11, 2016)

      As a child growing up in the late 1950’s and into the 1960’s I became interested in what we call “modern entertainment”, this is often referred to as “show business” or “show biz”. Watching the early evening variety shows on television exposed me to a number of celebrities who had made a name for themselves. While there were variety shows led by celebrities with big names, there were a small number of them who seemed to stand out from the rest. Among these standout celebrities was a man named Bob Hope. He stood out among the most popular of celebrities during that time period and for a lot of good reasons.

    As I grew old enough to understand what was going on with the war in Vietnam, I was watching on television as Bob Hope took an entourage of celebrity actors, musicians, dancers, and artists on several tours into the land where war was taking place. I was fascinated by this; I mean that there was a real war going on not too far from where he would stage his performances. The older folks around me would praise Mr. Hope for his efforts to entertain the troops in such environments. It was not the first time that celebrities would entertain the troops during wartime; I was reminded that during World War II many kinds of entertainment from celebrities took place. But somehow, watching what Bob Hope did during the Vietnam War to help the morale of thousands of troops had an impact on me. And I would unknowingly follow through with my own experiences of entertaining the troops later on in my own music life.

    While I was in the service, I began to truly entertain the troops once I had been stationed overseas in the Far East, in Japan during the late 1970’s. I had been teaching some other guys in the barracks there who wanted to learn to play the bass guitar. They were fun times to be sure. But one day a man I had not met before peeked his head in my door and started asking some music related questions about who I was. I answered him, and then he asked me if I would like to be in his band. I said yes, and we kept that band together for over a year and a half as we entertained the troops weekly at the base NCO club, and at other bases around Honshu Island in Japan. The band played contemporary jazz music mainly, but we would throw in a couple of the hit soul songs of the day for fun. Playing in that band got me used to the idea of playing music for the troops; I really liked to play music for the men and women on active duty.

      Once I had returned to the states in the early 1980’s, I finished my contractual duties with the service and was honorably discharged. At this point in my life, I was living in the high desert region of southern California. I had already put together a good band there, and we were entertaining the troops on the base there even while I was still in and on active duty. But once I was out, the shows for the troops did not end for my band. One night after a rehearsal, one of the parents of the band members suggested that I give the U.S.O. a call and inquire about playing music for their functions. A flood of memories came rushing back into my mind as I thought of those shows that I saw Bob Hope perform in Vietnam many years earlier. I was inspired by the thought, I wanted to walk down some of the path that Bob Hope did, even though the nation was not officially at war. I wanted to feel some of what he felt, and I wanted to do some good for the troops.

      After getting the phone number for the U.S.O. in Hollywood, I called them up and spoke to the director of that division. His name was Jim Balla, and he was a most gracious, kind and intelligent man to meet and to work with. My band was ready to go for the most part, but Jim let me know that it would be better for me to have a female lead singer fronting the band. He said that this would be better for the troops, and I understood why. After a short search and some auditions of female singers, the band began to work with a beautiful model/singer/artist from Los Angeles who wanted to be part of the experience.

      During the 1984 Summer Olympics held in Los Angeles, the U.S.O. notified me that they wanted to hold an Olympic Games closing party at their Hollywood facility. I accepted a contract for the show with them and later drove the band about 100 miles to Los Angeles to perform the event. It was great fun for the band, and our beautiful female lead singer kept the many troops there nicely entertained. There were many other young women there as well, and they all had a name tag with their names clearly printed on them. I asked Jim Balla who they were, and he told me that they were chaperones for the troops. They were there to dance and socialize with the troops, and to help keep their spirits up. After the event was over that night, I watched for a moment as all of the female chaperones got back on some big tour busses to be whisked away into the night. I told Jim that I thought working with the USO was a great experience for me, and that night I told him about my thoughts on Bob Hope.

      Having told director Jim Balla of the Hollywood U.S.O. about my admiration for Bob Hope and what he had done for the troops during wartime did not go unnoticed. Jim then later booked my band for a show out at a really large Army base in southern California. He said that we would be playing for several thousand troops at this show. I said OK, it will be good for my band to do this.

       When my band arrived at the Army base, we had traveled there in a few separate vehicles. I got out and spoke to one of the Army officers, he was thrilled that we were coming and told me that he had studied acoustical engineering while he was in college. He told me that he had found an area on the base that would serve as a natural amphitheater. The Army had already set up a pair of flatbed trailers for a stage and a diesel generator for power for the band gear at the show site. “Where is this place?” I asked. The Army officer let me know that we would have to drive out over six to seven miles of tank trails to get to the location. Wow. What an experience that was for the band. We were in passenger cars loaded down with backline gear, and one of the band members came in a pickup truck. It was a very slow and tough ride navigating the tremendous potholes left from the tanks on that trail to the concert site. What a journey that was.

      Once we had arrived at the flatbed trailers and diesel generator at the show site, we got all of our band gear out of the cars and set up on the two opposing flatbed trailers the Army had set up for a stage. There was a heavy piece of rubber mat material that covered the place where the two flatbed trailers came together; to keep a good safe place to step for us, and to keep things from falling through the gap between them. Setting up, it was amazing to see a huge, long line of personnel trucks bringing the troops out to the show site. And the Army officer that I had spoken with was right; the large rocky hillside that he had chosen for the event had the proper slope to it, just like you would see in a man-made amphitheater. It was perfect it seemed. As the troops arrived, the number went above 5,000 in number. Closer to show time, one of the officers informed me that there were over 6,000 troops that had come to see the show, all of them in their combat uniforms. 

      My band played an amazing show, and funnily enough, we were using a male lead singer for this show. But the U.S.O. told me that this was ok for this event. The stage lighting was austere as it was six 100-watt floodlight bulbs each inside a large portable light fixture. But this somehow worked out to light the band up for all the troops in attendance. The roar from the crowd of troops was deafening after each song. They were really appreciative of our being there. It was an amazing experience, and I thought of Bob Hope for a moment while the troops were cheering. And then I understood why he did his shows, and why he chose to go out into harm’s way to make things better for the troops.

      The U.S.O. in Hollywood did call me shortly afterward and asked me to return to that same Army base in southern California to play another concert. They laughed and reassured me that I would be on pavement the entire time for this show; they had heard about our adventures of driving miles across tank trails. They gave me their sincere thanks and a positive nod for doing that show with my band. And they kept their word on our return to that Army base, we set up the band on a nice stage in a good outdoor location on the base, it was easy to get to. The crowd was smaller this time too; around 2,000 troops showed up and had a great time with the band. Again, it was a good experience for me and my band; we played well and had fun.

      The U.S.O. shows and bookings lasted for more than a year with my band; we played for the different branches of the services and did our best to entertain them all. We did this and we wanted to be there, to bring our best to the troops. To this day, I still ask young bands if they had ever considered playing for the U.S.O. Because playing music for the U.S.O. it is a unique experience to have as a musician, to be a part of those kinds of experiences is very special to all who are involved. And I did this because I was inspired by a man named Bob Hope, a man of talent, wisdom, courage and conviction who did the shows that other top celebrities probably would not have done. Rest in Peace Bob Hope.

    And my eternal thanks to the U.S.O. for the great music event experiences for the troops that I was honored to participate in during my lifetime.

    Bob Hope and Raquel Welch at a U.S.O. show in Vietnam 1966
    Bob Hope in stripes at a U.S.O. show in Vietnam during the 1960’s
    Bob Hope and Rosey Greer at a U.S.O. show in Vietnam during the 1960’s
    Bob Hope entertains troops at a U.S.O. show in Vietnam, 1967
    Bob Hope stands on stage and smiles with Les Brown’s band, during a 1967 USO show to entertain American troops overseas during the conflict in Vietnam.
    My band Fat Sound Incorporated (FSI) in 1984 played many U.S.O. shows in Southern California 1984-1985
  • Recording, Tape, and First Recording Date (Originally posted on October 31, 2016)

    Recording, Tape, and First Recording Date (Originally posted on October 31, 2016)

      I was growing up during the early to middle 1960’s era of the exploding growth of consumer electronics, and as a result, I was exposed to a variety of media playback devices. But back then, they weren’t known collectively as media playback devices. Instead, the devices were called what they were in the minds of people; film projector, tape player, and TV set. My older sisters and brothers were trying out and using these new consumer playback devices, usually transistor radios and sometimes tape players. The devices would last for a short while, and then a new playback device would become available that they would begin to use.

      As a result of being around friends and family members who were using these various playback devices, I began to pay more attention to what they were and how they worked. Portable and console radios were a marvel to me at a very young age, and they are still around today. But playback devices that included analog tape as a medium for playback of audio became something of a source of fascination to me. I mean a piece of tape moves inside of the device and I was hearing things. How does that work I wondered? And then, at the age of 14, I got involved in my first real recording session that changed my life in ways that stay with me to this day.

      My first real recording session involved a very nice woman who led the small choir at a local church in the town I grew up in on Long Island, New York. It was a home recording studio that a friend of hers had in their home. I was asked by this woman to play some bass guitar parts onto tape, using a tape-recording machine. The tape recorder was new to me, it was the year 1971 and I found myself feeling strangely excited to partake in such an endeavor. The choir leader then asked me to follow along with what I heard on the tape, to follow the rhythm parts that I heard and play my bass to those parts. We had been rehearsing the songs to be recorded beforehand, so I was not faced with learning new material on the spot at the recording date. But it was still my first official recording, and I did well with handling the excitement of hearing my bass guitar part played back to me for the first time. The tape recorder had a feature labeled on the front of it that was an acronym that read SOS, and I asked what that meant. The man who was operating the tape recorder said that the acronym meant “sound on sound”; he went on to say that we can hear what we are recording to tape while simultaneously listening to playback material previously recorded onto other tracks on the tape.

      While I had a bit of an idea of what all of that meant, I was bitten by the recording bug in a big way. The recording date turned out very well, the adults were pleased with what I had recorded, and I was pleased that they were. Having had my first recording session be a successful one, I began to wonder what a life in recording might be like. I heard records in a new way after that; as I played along with my bass to my favorite LPs at home, I would imagine myself being the bass player for that recording session. I felt a thrill about the potential of hearing my bass playing being played back for all to hear on a record or tape recording. And while I did not begin recording right away at the age of 14, I knew somehow that my opportunity to do so would emerge at some point. So, I really practiced for many hours on my first bass guitar to make sure that I would be ready when the time came.

      As my musical life expanded, I found myself recording with the various school orchestras in my school district and later on, around Long Island. As I remember, the first motion picture films that I saw with me in them were the films taken of the elementary school orchestra that I was in. After the filming session with the orchestra was done, the film editing time did not take very long. The elementary school would then hold an evening assembly some weeks later at the school auditorium that invited all of the parents of the students in the orchestra to attend and to watch the film. But my own musical recording life on the bass began after I had graduated from high school, after the thousands of hours of playing the bass and reading music. All of that practice turned out to be a good thing for my musical recording future.

      During my years in the service, while I was stationed in Japan in the late-1970’s I was part of some band recordings that were made by small Japanese production companies when the band played concerts; and separately by a band member who brought his own reel to reel tape recorder to the band’s regular gigs at the club on the installation we were all stationed at. Listening to those band recordings allowed me to hear what I truly sounded like to each audience, and so I continued crafting some ways towards getting a good live sound on the bass. I really liked listening to those recordings, and back in those days having cassette tapes were the way to go. They were relatively easy to carry around, and there were a couple of decent brands that featured 120-minute cassette tapes that were reliable for recording and playback.

      After returning to the States, I finally did my first true band recording in southern California in 1982. The band that I was leading was rehearsed and ready to go, or so we thought. What we realized in the studio was that our song parts were exposed when recording. All of the little things become big things while recording in the studio. We had done some ensemble recording to a stereo cassette deck at our rehearsal place with decent results. But the recording studio was different in how the recording process put everyone’s recorded part under a microscope so to speak. And in the end, we did well as a band during that recording session. The resulting cassette tape demos that I made did result in my band getting more gigs later on. I discovered that I was delivering a good tone to the 16 track, 1 inch tape machine used at that recording studio. And knowing how to get a great bass tone in every studio that I had the honor to be in after that became a serious goal of mine.

      After I made the move to the Los Angeles area in the mid-1980’s, I was amazed at the many excellent recording studios that I had the privilege to either visit or record in as a bass player. The largest studios in the city were vast indeed; some of them reminded me of walking in a cathedral or a lush and expansive house of worship. And there was a sense of reverence in those big posh studios, I mean the people inside often spoke in hushed tones as to not disturb the recordings taking place in its many recording rooms. They were a special place indeed to be in to record music. My recording abilities on the bass grew expansively during my years of living and recording in Los Angeles. I recorded many demos and some good records for artists while I lived there.

      And what playback medium did I record to during all those years? Analog tape, and every studio was using a multi-track recording machine to perform the tasks of recording and playing back all of the recorded material. I dug into the science of how the process worked, how analog tape was made, and much more. I recorded my own demos that I sent out to many music publishers in the early 1990’s using multi track cassette tape recorders. But just when I thought that analog tape was going to be the future medium for multi-track recording, along came digital hard disk recorders along with the computers that began to change the landscape of recording audio everywhere. And that migration over to the digital recording world began to represent an exciting new learning curve for me, one that I decided to take on. And the future did change in the recording world, and I will speak about that change with you as we go forward. In the meantime, do your best at each recording session, and have fun when you do. 

    A Sony TC-766 analog tape recorder
    8-track cassette tapes
    TASCAM 4-track cassette tape recorder
    Technics TR-210 stereo cassette recorder
    Otari MTR-90 2-inch 24 track analog tape machine
  • Jerome Lee City – Early Days (Originally posted on October 23, 2016)

    Jerome Lee City – Early Days (Originally posted on October 23, 2016)

      After my year of living in London, I had returned to the European continent and to Amsterdam, The Netherlands. I had enjoyed living in London, and I met some great people while I was there. But living in Amsterdam was different on many levels socially, and while there are the differences in the ways countries conduct their populace’s social behaviors, one thing remained the same for me; it was the music. Playing music on a different continent other than the one that I grew up on was of a great interest to me. I went out almost right away to the numerous jam nights for musicians that took place in the city. I played at a few of the clubs in the city, and got to know some of the local musicians, as well as some ex-patriots who were living there as musicians and artists.

      The open jam nights were fun to play at in Amsterdam, I began to revisit a couple of them during my first year of living in the city. One in particular that I found was at a jazz club called T’Geveltje; it had some of the good Dutch jazz musicians stop by on a regular basis that kept the music flowing nicely there. There was a house piano, and a small set of drums available for the musicians who wanted to play on the open jam nights. I always brought my own bass; it was my five-string with a low B string that I actually introduced into my extending jazz vocabulary; the Real Book and the Fake Book jazz songs that I had learned already were learned on a four-string bass guitar. But to be there at that club playing down tunes from those books on my five-string bass was a blast for me.

      As I got to know more and more of the musicians who lived in the city, I began to sing more at the open mic nights held at some of the other clubs that I would visit. There were a few places that had a soul/r&b open mic night, and some others that held blues style open mic nights. As I kept on singing at the open mic nights, when I was done, I would talk to some of the experienced musicians who encouraged me to start my own band. They told me to start a band that does the songs that I like to sing, and to do my own thing. I did find some musicians who wanted to play the soul, r&b and jazz styles that I liked to play. We got together and practiced for a short while, and the guitar player in that band came up with the name of Soul Touch. With that band name, we did our first gig at a small club/café that overlooked the Waterlooplein in Amsterdam. It was fun and I thought it might last with those guys if we stayed together.

      But as it is with bands, the group members have crazy schedules in their own lives. If they are good musicians, and these guys in the band were, then they are constantly busy with other music projects. I wanted to keep the band going, it was fun to play the music, and it was a good way to bring in some money. I began to think about a new name for this band that I wound up leading, I wanted a band name that people would easily remember. It needed to be something silly, something familiar, something large, and something that I could personally relate to.

      I noticed right away what a scheduling wizard I had to be in order to keep track of which musician was going to play in the band on a particular show. The musicians would come and go; it was a lot of back and forth for me as I dealt with this. I remembered that I grew up around, near, or in a city; I had been around cities for most of my life. And the thing with cities is the people who live there and then move away. People have come and gone in every city I thought. I see musicians constantly coming and going in my own band, so why not a name called Jerome Lee City for this band? I liked the name, and I described to the band members why I thought of that name. They happily understood, and each new musician that played with the band was told of the origins of the name. The musicians liked it, and to my happy discovery the people liked it too.

      Once I had established a band name for my group, it was time to get moving and try to get the name out to those who might book the band for shows. I did the things that needed to be done and took them seriously because this was my biggest income generator. I was going to get out there in Holland and sing for my supper, oh yes, I was. I carefully compiled a band introduction letter; several set lists and even had the good fortune to have some promotional photographs taken of me by a good semi-professional photographer that I met at one of the open mic jam nights in Amsterdam. Once the photos were finished, I set out to try to find as many gigs or shows as I could.

      After I had the press package made for the band, the manager spirit that I had in me helped me to book some shows. By doing these shows, it allowed me to meet some new musicians who were living in Amsterdam. One notable musician was a singer/guitarist Sonny Griffin; he was wonderful person for me to know and to work with. Sonny had his own band too, and shortly after I met Sonny, I did many shows all over Holland with his band. It became fun to mix up our show nights when it came to our set lists; Sonny had done enough shows with Jerome Lee City to learn all of my songs so we would share the lead vocal duties between us. And when I would play in Sonny’s band on his show nights, I would sing a lead vocal on a few songs to give him a break during the show. It was a great musical exchange that we had between us, and we kept that exchange for several years over many shows.

      As Jerome Lee City continued to do its thing as a band, one night at a club in the old part of Amsterdam proved to be a turning point for the band’s journey. It was a great night for the band, the musicians in the band sounded great and the audio was just right. The club was filled with dancers on the dance floor, and the vibe that night was just positive. Right after we were done playing, a man from the audience immediately came up to me and introduced himself as a concert promoter from Sardinia, Italy. His name was Guido Valera, and he was straight to the point as he looked me right in the eye. I was curious about what he was saying, and we sat at a table in the club, and he told me more about himself. I learned that there was a large festival held on Sardinia Island each summer that lasted for over a month. That’s big. Guido told me that he could book at least ten concerts for me that happened during the festival month. I agreed, and we began the process of getting Jerome Lee City booked on Sardinia Island, Italy.

      I spent the rest of that winter and spring of 1998 getting ready for my band’s tour of Sardinia, Italy. There was a lot that needed to be done with insurance, passports, and different nation state departments. Not your normal procedure before a show, and I worked to get all of the paperwork right. Guido came back to Holland in the month of May to finalize our contract; it was good to see him and to work with him. I was given maps of Sardinia, and the towns and villages that we were to play at were highlighted on one large map in particular. I was excited as the band rehearsed and put together the music for the tour. When the time came to go, I was excited all over again to fly with the band from Holland to Sardinia. When we got to Sardinia, Guido was there waiting for us and took care of us for the entire tour. I will never forget the hospitality of the people of Sardinia; they were very giving and kind to us. We did ten concerts on the island that summer, and the band was stunning every night. This happened during July and August of 1998, and it was a tour for the ages for me. I will always remember the people who came to the concerts and showed their appreciation for live music.

      All of this happened after Jerome Lee City had been doing shows for only a year in Holland, there was still much more to come. What a way to begin a musical journey, I thought. I will talk more about this band and its musical adventures in the future. Stay tuned…

    A promotional photo of Jerome Lee for his band Jerome Lee City taken in 1998, Amsterdam, the Netherlands
    Jerome Lee leading his open mic night at the Bourbon Street Blues club in Amsterdam, the Netherlands 1999
    Jerome Lee performing live with “Jerome Lee City” on New Year’s Eve 2000 at The Last Waterhole in Amsterdam, the Netherlands
    Posters made up special for Jerome Lee’s farewell party at The Last Waterhole, Amsterdam, the Netherlands, were placed on the walls in the alley outside the club in March 2003
    Jerome Lee leads his band “Jerome Lee City” in concert on Sardinia Island, Italy, 1998
    Jerome Lee ending his solo feature in concert while leading his band “Jerome Lee City” in Sardinia, Italy, 1998
    Jerome Lee with guitarist Niki Buzz in concert with “Jerome Lee City” in Teulada, Sardinia, Italy, 1998
    Jerome Lee leads his band “Jerome Lee City” in concert in Sardinia, Italy in 1998; band introduction by Guido Valera
  • 4, 5, 0r 6-Stringed Basses – Which One? (Originally posted on October 16, 2016)

    4, 5, 0r 6-Stringed Basses – Which One? (Originally posted on October 16, 2016)

      Four strings or five? Or more? That was a popular collective shout from the bass guitar playing community in the 1980’s that I heard loud and clear. How many strings on the bass would make a bass player a bass player, folks began to wonder. In the advent of the manufacturing of extended range bass guitars during the mid-1970’s and into the 1980’s, a plethora of new basses with this new range extension began to hit the market. So many new bass guitar builders came on the scene, and many of those builders are still with us today. There was choice for bass guitar players indeed. One could purchase a five stringed bass guitar with either a low open B string or a high open C string. The six stringed bass guitar became quite popular too; it had the extended range that included both a low open B string and a high open C string. For many, the six stringed bass became their bass of choice, and there are plenty of great bass guitar artists out there who have some fine solo and ensemble recordings using the six stringed bass guitar.

      I grew up in a four stringed bass guitar world myself. Back in my youth during the late 1960’s and early 1970’s, going to the music store was always a fun adventure. I always did and still do like seeing so many bass guitars all in one place. But even with the several brands being sold out there, all of the bass guitars were of the four stringed varieties. Also, all of the bass guitar players who had risen to prominence in the music industry during those days were all four stringed bass guitar players. When I think about it, about the only five stringed basses that I saw in the music stores in my youth were not even bass guitars, instead they were the upright electric basses built by Gibson (the Baby Bass), and the Ampeg Azola (the Baby Bass designed by Steve Azola). As I remember it, both of these upright electric basses were extended range basses as they either offered or included a high open C string on these models. The exceptions that I also saw were the six stringed Fender VI baritone guitar and the six stringed Danelectro Longhorn baritone guitar. Definitely different to me, I didn’t envision myself playing an extended range bass at that time, but I thought that they sounded good.

      It wasn’t until the mid-1980’s that I got to experience playing an extended range bass guitar. One of the bands that I was in during my days of living in Los Angeles actually had two bass players in the band. The other bass player in this band had a five stringed bass guitar with a low open B string on it that was built by Fodera. It was a beautiful bass guitar, and he got an excellent sound from it. When it came time for this particular band to record in the studio, the other bass player in the band offered me his Fodera bass to try on a song that he thought I would have an easier time playing, as he himself did not like so much what he was doing with the song’s bass track. So, I gave it a try, and lo and behold, I liked it. I did like it. Firstly, his bass was so well constructed that it was very easy to play. This gave me some good confidence as to what to play for the bass track on the recording. And further, I very quickly learned to understand what the notes were on the low open B string that his bass had, and how those notes related up and down the neck to the other strings on the bass. In short, it all made sense to me right away, and I was glad to realize that I could learn to play an extended range bass guitar rather well with some practice.

      As the 1990’s arrived I was still living in Los Angeles, and I found myself playing in a terrific modern jazz band that had gotten a record deal and was bound for the studio. It was to be the second, or sophomore recording as it’s known, for the band leader. I arrived at the studio with my four stringed basses, and one of them was a rental bass that I wanted to try on one of the songs to be recorded. As we began to go through the songs, it became evident to the band leader that the bass guitar parts he had written out were in need of an extended range bass guitar. His charts needed a bass guitar with an open low B string extension for the bass parts to truly work and sound right. As I did not own a five stringed bass at that time, one of the well-connected guitar players in that band came up with a solution for me. He called some folks that he knew at Washburn Guitars, and he let them know what the bass guitar situation was for me. The people at Washburn Guitars responded very warmly and kindly to his request. They asked him to stop by at a location in town and pick up an extended range bass guitar that they had recently built, one that featured a low open B string. He did and brought it to the recording studio where we were to meet and continue making the band’s record.

      The bass that the guitar player brought to the recording studio for me to try was a Washburn XS-5 series; it was a five stringed bass guitar with a low open B string. This bass was beautiful to look at, it sounded punchy and nice, and it had an original snap sound to it as well. The strings on this bass were also a little closer together to each other than I was used to, in other words it had tighter string spacing than my four stringed basses. But that too was ok with me. I was very thankful to the guitarist for bringing me this bass to play, and I agreed to keep this bass almost right away. It was the beginning of my first endorsement deal too, it was with Washburn Guitars, and it lasted for one year. Since time was of the essence while recording in a recording studio, I got right down to the business of getting all the bass tracks for the band leader’s recording done.  

      Since that recording, I have stayed with playing my Washburn XS-5 five stringed bass guitar. I also did a studio session in the early 1990’s in Los Angeles for a great blues band; and it was the first time that they had ever had a five stringed bass played on any of their recordings. This five-stringed bass traveled the world with me for many years; it became a trusted companion that I would depend upon for all of the music that I played. And with other bands, I did play a six stringed bass guitar that they had for me to play on a couple of their original songs.

      But funnily enough, I began to long for playing a four stringed bass guitar again. So, over the last few years now, I have acquired a four stringed Fender Jazz bass and a four stringed Dean acoustic bass guitar. Both of these four stringed basses keep me close to my bass playing roots, and there are some songs that I compose only for my four stringed basses. It’s funny how things have changed in the bass playing world over the years since I was a kid. But to be honest, I have been glad to receive these changes in my own bass guitar life with an open musical mind and an open musical heart.

    Jerome Lee with his 4-string Greco bass guitar purchased in Fussa, Japan in 1979 in Apple Valley, California 1984
    Jerome Lee playing his Washburn Axxess XS-5 5-string bass guitar at a video shoot for Ghost Embrace in Englewood, Colorado, 2014
    Jerome Lee playing a 6-string fretless Ibanez Artist Series bass guitar in concert in Las Vegas, Nevada, November 2009
    Jerome Lee playing a Custom 5-string acoustic upright bass at a private party in Las Vegas, Nevada, February 2010
    Jerome Lee playing a Steinberger NS-4 electric upright bass in a studio in Parker, Colorado 2014
    Jerome Lee with his Dean EADC 4-string acoustic bass guitar in Las Vegas, Nevada 2015
    A Fender Squier Jazz Bass circa 2003 owned by Jerome Lee
  • International School of Amsterdam_ To Teach (Originally posted on October 9, 2016)

    International School of Amsterdam_ To Teach (Originally posted on October 9, 2016)

      My days of living in Amsterdam, the Netherlands in the mid to late 1990’s found me playing music with a lot of different musicians. They were from all around the world. What this helped me do was to maintain a network of communication with the other numerous musicians in the city at that time. I had also begun to meet some of the musicians who were music teachers to supplement their income while living there. They all said that teaching music in the city was helping and enriching not only their students, but themselves as well. I too had done some music and bass guitar teaching before I had lived in Amsterdam. And by me having done so, it opened up a really nice chapter of my time spent in the city.

      As I had begun to meet musicians and artists at the many shows and open mic sessions that I went to and performed at, there was one Dutch man I met who asked me for bass guitar lessons. I said yes, and he would come to the little flat that I lived in to get his bass guitar lessons. They were fun times for both of us, and he did learn to play his bass much better after taking the time to learn and practice. It helped me to stay sharp too; teaching has a way of tapping into a very different area of our psyche as people. There is a need and a want to share and inform someone from the heart as a teacher. I felt this, and that feeling has always been a part of who I am.

      One of the great bass guitar players in Amsterdam asked me if I wanted to sit in with her band one night at a jam session. The band wanted to play a song or two from some charts they had on the stage. So, I played with them and read down the bass chart before me. It turns out that the very nice bass chart was written out beautifully by this great player, and she later asked me a bit more about myself. I had not been living too long in Amsterdam at this point, and I told her a bit about my history in music. We became friends and she would let me know of the many shows that she was playing in. I would go and see her play, and then she would introduce me to the other group members. Meeting those people was good for me later on, but something else happened that was a bit of a life changer for me.

      I also found out soon after through my friend that she was teaching music and bass guitar at the International School of Amsterdam. Located in the adjacent town of Amstelveen, she said that she had been teaching there two and sometimes three days a week. Once in a while she would teach more often there, but that is the schedule that she had settled into at that point. She told me one evening after a show that she had to go on the road with a great band and could not teach at the school for a while. And to my surprise, she asked me if I would like to take her place as a staff teacher at the school. Without a doubt, I was happily surprised and I said yes. There was some time before she was to leave on her tour, so that gave me some time to prepare myself too.

      The first day that I arrived at the International School of Amsterdam, I went inside and I liked it right away. I saw and heard students speak in languages from all over the world. It was amazing to encompass in my mind. I met with the music teachers on staff at the school; they all were very talented and very kind. I was glad to meet them, and glad to know them. I knew that this was something of a turning point in my life of living in Amsterdam; it was taking on something in a place that was new to me. It made the challenge so exciting, I was ready to begin.

      I was set to teach there at the beginning of the next school year. The music lessons took place after regular school hours as it was deemed extra curriculum school time. I also learned that my students were quite young. They were between the 11–13-year-old age ranges. And I looked forward to meeting their parents; talking with the parents of the students was something that was of great importance to me. I had remembered that importance when I gave bass guitar lessons in the U.S. The parents get to know me too; their minds were set at ease as I spoke with them. To me it is very important to have a good relationship with both the parents and the student while teaching.

      After the first school year that I taught was over, there was a music teacher’s meeting that we would be called to before the start of the next school year. It was here that I found out that we had to present ourselves at an assembly event before an auditorium filled with parents and relatives of the students, and many students themselves. You see, what we were trying to do was to gather some students for music lessons at the school. The assembly event allowed the teachers to display their chosen instrument and to show their ability to perform on it. Doing this would give the students a choice of which musical instrument they may be interested in learning to play. As teachers, we were good at getting the attention of the students with what we would play, like I said earlier, the music teaching staff at the school was very talented indeed. I did my presentation and performance before everyone and got a couple of laughs and some interest from the students.

      After the assembly event was over that night, I met new students who were interested in learning the bass guitar, and I met their parents as well. It was really nice to have these new beginnings with new people, and good for me to impart to these students the things that I have learned about music over the years. During my second year, a couple of my students came to their bass guitar lessons with new bass guitars; I was very pleased that their parents took some of my advice on choosing a first instrument for their child. My students were of a young age as I said before, and having a 34″ scale neck might be a little bit too big for them to start on. So, a couple of my students arrived with a 30″ scale bass guitar to get their lessons with me. Having my new students show up with these new instruments further enamored me toward giving them the best bass guitar lessons that I could give. And yes, one of my students who was from Finland came to school with a 34″ scale bass guitar, but he could really play it. He wanted to know things about the bass that were a little beyond his abilities at the time, but I went on ahead and brought him along toward the place he wanted to be as a bass player.

      Part of the school curriculum during the school year at the International School of Amsterdam was to have an assembly event at the school auditorium to showcase the music students themselves. With all of the parents in attendance, it was a great way for those students to show their progress in front of everyone. One of my students wanted to participate in the event, so I worked up a very simple, blues-based song for us to share. I showed him how musicians take turns during the songs that they play, how they share solo space during the song. This particular young student of mine was from the north of England, and his accent was very thick when he spoke. I had lived for a year in England prior to living in the Netherlands, and I know how thick those accents can sound to my ear. He was a good student, and I could tell that he had been practicing his lessons. When he was comfortable with playing the song, I taught him how to let me know that he was ready to take his solo space in it by saying “let me in!”, and then he would begin to play his solo while I provided accompaniment for him.

      The night of the event at the school auditorium was really good. The music schoolteachers and their students did some really nice things with their music on the stage that night. It was a full auditorium, and my student and I did not have to go on first, so I saw a little excitement build up in him. I reassured him that we would be good out there. This was to be his very first performance playing a bass guitar on stage in front of people. When it was our turn, I got the two small bass guitar amplifiers set up with the help of one of the other teachers, and then we were introduced to the audience. As we began to play the blues song that we had been practicing together, I saw him relax a bit on stage, and we got a nice groove going. When he was comfortable playing the song on stage, he looked at me with an expression that I will not forget and said in a nice loud voice that I will not forget, “Let Me In!” The sound of his accent made me smile as he took his solo, and the audience reacted nicely as well. My young British student played his heart out, and I gave him the space to do his thing. It was such a great moment for him, and I was ever so proud of him playing the bass guitar like he did. His parents and siblings were excited for him after the show, his mother told me she could hardly get a word out of him most days as he was shy, but to hear him speak out on stage like he did was a real joy for her to hear.

      I went on to teach at the International School of Amsterdam for a total of just over three years. It was one of the most positive experiences that I had while I lived in Amsterdam, the Netherlands. To teach and to inform others is one of the most important things that we can do for each other as people. To have met such great music teachers, students, and parents is something that I will always cherish about my years spent living there.  Thank you ISA. 

    The front entrance to the International School of Amsterdam, Amstelveen, the Netherlands, c. 2014
  • Japan (Originally posted on Oct. 2, 2016)

    Japan (Originally posted on Oct. 2, 2016)

      I never thought that I would ever visit the Far East in my lifetime, let alone live there. But it did happen to me. My life in the service offered me a chance to be stationed in the Far East, and I accepted my service branch’s offer. My assignment placed me on Honshu Island in Japan, and for me it was quite a culture shock at first. The time was late 1977, and my assignment was to run up to near the beginning of 1980. I had never lived outside of the US before at that point in my life, and here I was as a 20 year old taking it all in. It was fascinating, this island of Japan, and I wondered about what the culture there could exchange with someone like me. Well, I was about to find out in a good way.

      My fellow servicemen advised me to stay close to the installation at first, don’t wander off too far some of them said. But it turned out that I was much more excited and curious about my new surroundings than I had anticipated. There were a couple of guys there that I met who knew the island and had a car to drive. That was one way to get the lay of the land. Then there were some other guys that I met who knew the mass transit system in Japan rather deeply, it was with them that I got to understand the routes, times and locations of the mass transit there. And the mass transit introduced a new set of social rules for me to follow. It was the first time that I encountered the transit workers known as “Packers”; these uniformed workers actually push and pack people onto the train cars stopped at their stations during the transit travel rush hours in the mornings and the evenings. That to me was amazing to see, and to be a part of sometimes as I too was squished onto a couple of cars packed with transit riders during the rush hours.

      Driving a car is different in Japan too, they drive on the left side of the road, and so the vehicle’s steering wheel is mounted on the opposite side of what I was used to. One service member I met who was close to his assignment in Japan ending offered to sell me his mini van. It seemed in okay shape and the price was right, so I bought it. I drove it around the installation for a couple of weeks to get used to driving on the left side of the road. Then, I took it off of the installation on a regular basis and drove out in traffic with the rest of the native Japanese drivers. One driving habit that I did pick up from Japanese drivers was the habit of dousing my headlights when pulling up to a traffic signal at night. Almost all of the Japanese drivers did this; it was their way of showing each other a courtesy by bringing down their car’s headlights; this helped also to cut down the glare from the headlight’s reflections onto each driver’s rear-view mirror while stopped at a traffic signal at night. I carried this habit with me for a short time upon my return to the US, but I didn’t keep it for very long.

      I did bring over my first bass guitar to Japan with me. But I knew that it was time for a new bass soon, and in my travels, I found a nice little music store just outside of the installation where I was stationed. The store was called Three Sisters Music, and the store owners were very kind Japanese people and spoke just enough English to carry on a small conversation with me. Inside of that music store there were brands of guitars and basses that I had not heard of, Ibanez, Greco, and Yamaha instruments were on offer for musicians to try out. I liked the promotional posters on the wall inside the music store too; they were of acts named Pink Lady, Kasumi Watanabe, and even a nice poster of bassist Suzi Quatro. It turns out that Suzi Quatro was very popular in Japan during my time there.

      I continued to visit Three Sisters Music in the small town of Fussa in Japan as often as I could find the time to do so. It was a great store, and one of the owners there took a liking to me. She offered me some choices in bass guitars as I was definitely looking for a new one. After trying out a few bass guitars, I settled on one that she chose for me, it was a Greco bass guitar that was modeled after the popular Fender Precision bass guitar. I liked it right away, and came back to the store shortly thereafter and bought it from her. It was a nice bass to have for sure. After meeting a drummer in the barracks one day, I found myself playing in a contemporary jazz band that also played some r&b and soul music as well. The drummer was doing all of the band’s bookings as well as finding musicians to play in his band.

      That band, named the Ninth Of June, was the first true international band that I played in. The band’s makeup was a blend of African-American servicemen and Japanese Nationals; and we played together very well. The guitarist in the early band, named Kenny Moore, was an American and was very good, but his assignment came to an end and he returned to the US. The drummer then found a great Japanese guitarist named Keiji Yoshida, and Keiji stayed with the band until my assignment was over. We got to play together in that band for over a year and a half, and we did some of the best shows around the island of Honshu. I remember the first major concert that the band did, it was held in a nice concert hall in Fuchū. I wrote a new song for the band to play; we had rehearsed it before the concert. We took a little time together as a band at a little pub across the street from the concert hall, I remember being a bit nervous before our show. But one of the other Japanese guitar players that I knew there offered to share a shot of whiskey with me. It was my first shot of the famous Suntory whiskey, only one, and I was able to settle down a little bit before we had to play.

      The concert was really good, and when it came time to play my original song I was ready to do it. It was the first time that a band was playing a piece of music that I had composed before an audience, and I thought it was such a great experience and a blessing to have done so on Honshu Island, Japan. I took my bass solo space that I had written into the song with some real gusto. The band’s lead singer gave me the nickname of “Ironhand” after the song was over. By the way, I never did decide a title for my song, so I named it “Indecision”. We actually played it for the rest of the time that I was with the band, and I was always honored to play it.

      Keiji Yoshida was such a wonderful guitarist in that band. He taught at a music school in Tokyo where he had some 30 guitar students. We eventually played at Keiji’s school as a band; it was a real treat to play music for his students. He was a big fan of the band The Crusaders, he really loved their music. He liked the guitar styles of the Crusaders’ guitarists of that era, namely Larry Carlton and later, the late Billy Rodgers. Keiji also loved the way that the late saxophone player Wilton Felder played, Wilton’s melody ideas and solo ideas were something that Keiji was always interested in and admired. After playing together for about a year, Keiji came to a band practice one day with a new chart with a new song titled “Like Felder” that I just loved. The melody and that song’s sensibilities touched beautifully upon the spirit of The Crusaders music. And in the classic Crusaders style he wrote the main melody of that song to be played in unison with a tenor saxophone, it was just brilliant.

      As the time went by during my stay in Japan, I found myself returning to Three Sisters Music to look for yet another new bass guitar. The same lovely lady at the store showed me another Greco model that was a beautiful custom neck through body design that I really liked. I traded in my first Greco bass that she had sold me for the new one. I just loved this new bass. This lady from Three Sisters Music actually brought her husband along and came on to the installation one Sunday night to hear me play my new bass with the band, it was a fun and memorable night for us all. And it was also at a time when I knew that my bass playing was getting better, I was happy to know that I had progressed some more on my chosen instrument.

      A fellow serviceman helped me find some rehearsal space for the band to practice in on the installation. It was a good spot where we could play at show volumes and not bother anyone. Since there were three male vocalists also in the band, a public address (P.A.) system was needed for these singers. I was given keys to a medium sized van and was shown where to go and get the P.A. system for the band to play through. The place where the P.A. belonged was around an hour’s drive from the installation, it belonged to an audio professional named Aoshi Someya. I liked Someya when I met him, he had a great sense of humor and he knew a lot about the music scene in Japan and in the US. The name of his studio was Alfalfa Studios, and yes, it was named after the popular character Alfalfa from the Hal Roach TV series called The Little Rascals (Our Gang). Someya had several black and white photos of the Alfalfa character all around his studio, it always made me laugh when I would visit him to take care of the band’s P.A. system.

      Among the many gigs that the Ninth Of June played was a weekly night at a serviceman’s club on the installation. The gig was always on a Sunday night, and if the P.A. system was not already picked up by a certain time from Someya’s studio then folks would begin to worry a bit. So I made sure to make the long journey out to the studio a couple of days ahead of time. One afternoon, I had agreed to meet with Someya at his studio at a certain time. I drove the band’s van out to his studio in Musashi-Sakai to pick up the band’s P.A. system. But after ringing the bell to the studio, knocking on the door, and then trying to call Someya from a public phone and still not contacting him, I decided to wait in the van for a little while. But I didn’t stay in the van for very long; I saw a pub nearby that looked like it served food, so I went inside. The local Japanese folks inside welcomed me and I sat at the small bar and ordered a beer for myself. It was a lively pub, and lots of chatter came from the people as they met after their work day and talked about things.

      I was okay with sitting alone in the pub and waiting for Someya to return home. But a couple of curious Japanese guys came over to where I was at the bar, and one of them began to speak with me in broken English. This guy was doing his best to speak to me, and I tried my best to speak with him too. He would translate back into Japanese to his friend what we were speaking about. It turns out that they worked as local newspaper editors and story writers. They liked me and bought more beers, and talked some more. I did eat a little something there at the pub that night, remembering that I still had a long drive home. But my new Japanese friends were happy to speak with me, an African-American foreigner, someone that they didn’t meet every day. The beer kept coming. The big jukebox in the pub was loaded with 45RPM records, and the more folks drank, the more they would replay Bing Crosby’s version of “White Christmas”. You see, it did not have to be the holidays for the locals to play that song over and over again. They just loved it. For me, it was a little out there, but okay.

      A couple of hours later, Someya looked inside the pub and found me at the bar with my new friends. Our eyes met, and he could tell right away that I was feeling just fine, if you know what I mean. He came inside the pub and up to the bar where he immediately apologized to me for being so late. I told him that it was alright, and I introduced him to my new friends. They all spoke to each other in Japanese for a moment; Someya was telling them about my work as a musician, and my reason to visit him. My new newspaper friends were delighted to know this about me as we parted ways. The pub was fun, but Someya would not let me drive home that night. He put me up at his home to sleep overnight; it was such a kind thing for him to do for me. In the morning, he and his wife served me a traditional Japanese breakfast before I left, it was delicious. And the green tea that they offered me was excellent. 

      There are more stories about my working with this band during my years of living on Honshu Island, Japan that I hope to share in some later blogs. To have spent the time in Japan that I did was quite special to me. The people were kind, and the Japanese musicians that I met and played music with were stellar. I’m glad to have done that. Mata aim Asho.

    The 9th of June band in 1979 (front row) Kenny, Jerry (back row) Reuben, Keiji, Jerome, Mikiko, Calvin
    The 9th of June band, Japan 1978
  • Los Angeles Days I (Originally posted on September 11, 2016) 

    Los Angeles Days I (Originally posted on September 11, 2016) 

    It was the best of times, and the worst of times, all at the same time; my days in Los Angeles in the mid to late 1980’s. I was playing the bass in several bands, sometimes different gigs in the same week with different bands. So crazy. Oh, and recording too, I learned to keep a “bass mobility kit” together for those last-minute studio calls when they happened. Word of mouth around Los Angeles about you as being a good bass player will help facilitate this, I quickly learned. 

      The festivals in the city were a joy to play at; the Sunset Junction Street Fair, and the West Hollywood Street Fair, among others, were the best, to me. There were other festivals, but those two stood out during my days of playing bass with the band known as Urban Artillery. I saw that the band was asked to return to those festival band line-ups for a few years running during the late 1980’s into the early 1990’s. 

      I loved playing in this band, as I was one of its two (yes two) electric bass players, and the drummers that did pass through the band were simply amazing. One drummer who played with the band at a West Hollywood Street Fair concert one year went on to play drums in the touring band for Kris Kristofferson. And yet another drummer who joined the band for a concert performance at the Sunset Junction Street Fair went on to play drums in the band called 4 Non Blondes. The band had a strong social message and stage presence that many people in Los Angeles took to and really liked.   

      The festival’s organizers liked the raw power of the band; they liked its originality and its style. I remember a couple of memorable performances at the West Hollywood Street Fair, and one in particular where I, the keyboard player, and the lead singer, were jumping really high into the air on stage during a particularly rousing song. The lead singer did a jump with a kick that launched one of his shoes at least 40 feet back into the audience. 

    We found it hilarious as a band, and wouldn’t you know it, someone in the audience returned the lead singer’s shoe after the band’s performance that afternoon. That’s the kind of people who attended these festivals back then; they loved the bands and saw them all as original with something to say, and stars in their own right whether they became big or not. 

      It was the worst of times because of the nature of the music industry itself. It is an extreme hit or miss industry, and those who miss find it hard to move forward, but not always. As a band, just because you miss once or twice back then didn’t mean that you weren’t going to get another shot at the big time. 

      This was Los Angeles after all, one of the key cities in the country to make a way forward in the music industry. And some of the bands there did move forward with their careers in music; a couple of them are still together today from back during those years that I lived there. And they still sound great. But not all of the bands made their way forward; not all of the bands found a lucrative career in the music industry. It was a tough way of living for me as well as so many other musicians that I knew back then. 

    Throughout the passage of time though, I have seen many of the band members from several of the bands that made music in Los Angeles back in those days on today’s social media, and one thing is in common between those days and these times. Our love to play music is above all else, and in the end, it didn’t matter so much whether there was a lucrative music industry deal or not. What did matter was the fact that we were and are musicians first, and we continue to compose and play the music that comes from our hearts, spirits, and souls. 

    And that’s a pretty good place to be.

    The single “Beautiful Country” by Urban Artillery in Los Angeles, CA, 1988
    Urban Artillery in Los Angeles circa 1988