My first memory of music is hearing the song “Magic” by Pilot, on the radio in 1974 when I was three. Mom brought home the 45 record of the song and I listend it over and over, trying to figure out the words and sounds coming from the grooves on the spinning platter. After that it was record mania, I sat in a circle of my parents 45s experimenting with the speeds on the turntable and being fascinated with the world inside the vinyl, especially the drums.
Almost as if the drums were calling me, anytime I saw a drumkit or a drummer at a county fair or a drumline in a marching band, I was drawn to the majesty of a drum, the power of it to be so strong that you could feel it inside, the rhythmical vortex they could create. After a visit to my Uncle Bob’s in Florida where I discovered the bongos, he sent me a full drum kit, and there at age six I started my journey of playing with records, learning rudiments and picking apart the secrets of what I heard between those grooves....