Adrian Peek

By: Isaac “Zeke” Bibby photos ©2004 Jack Mader

It’s a very dark and cold January night. Minus 30 degrees outside, windchill about minus 45. But inside The Dakota, Minneapolis’ premier jazz club, the crowded floor and balconies feel like July in Jamaica. The palpable heat radiates from the excellent group onstage.

The Walter Chancellor Quartet featuring Thomasina Petrius is clearly one of those groups deserving wider recognition. Utterly amazing vocals, blazing saxes, angular piano and rumbling bass permeate the room. At the center of this brilliant music, stoking this modern jazz blast furnace, is drummer Adrian Peek.

This writer has been acquainted with Adrian Peek for a number of years. His resume includes hundreds of recording sessions, television and live concerts with many international artists including Roy Ayers, Pete Cosey, Gary Bartz, Arturo Sandoval, and Mighty Joe Young. Adrian was also a first call staff musician-composer for the CBC, and featured artist with the world-renowned Winnipeg Symphony Orchestra. He’s a top-notch educator as well as an award-winning television producer-writer.

Adrian has been described as “a very nimble drummer” who “detonates a few rolling explosions, and punctuates the sound with sizzling cymbals”, and is “more than just a ferociously good drummer”. To quote noted composer Dr. Glen Buhr discussing a New Music project, “Adrian was amazing!”. He is very amazing this night! Jabbing, prodding, supporting, pushing, exploring, yet never being obtrusive or overpowering. Adrian Peek is the man! And he has a wicked sense of humor to boot!

Luckily for we music lovers, a high definition video clip of this group has been posted on the Web. Adrian’s solo on the uptempo “Mr. P.C.” is a prime example of his musical concept. The ideas flow like water, giving a definite melodic framing to each chorus. One could say the drumset sings when Adrian plays. It’s that deep!

Adrian’s lovely wife, Julie, told this writer that Adrian doesn’t take compliments very well. During a conversation before this interview, she related she once told him all her co-workers thought he was cool. She said he was very surprised and embarrassed about that, and while he’s never rude, she’s never known him to handle compliments well or toot his own horn. That’s fine, as there are thousands and thousands of people on three continents who’ve experienced Adrian’s playing. It’s assured they’ll be happy to tell anyone listening how good Adrian truly is.

Julie also mentioned that Adrian received an email from an old student recently, and the interview began on this subject. ZB: You mentioned an email from an old student. Tell me about that.

AP: I hadn’t seen or heard anything from him since 1994. All of a sudden I get an email from him, and it’s filled with good news! He always was a natural player, but he had some big issues to deal with while he studied with me. He wrote to tell me that he was in the middle of recording his first album as a leader, and was getting airplay and work. He wanted me to know how much of an impact I had on him as a student, and how grateful he is to have known me as a teacher and friend.

I’m happy for him. He got on with it, so to speak. It’s somewhat humbling to know he gives me some credit for his success.

ZB: How is this humbling for you?

AP: Basically, it means I did a good job teaching him. It means I’d better keep practicing what I preach. It also means that when he’s a big time jazz artist I can hit him up for a great big loan!

ZB: How did you get started in music? Did you begin playing drums when you were a child?

AP: I started on trumpet when I was about eight. Back then, in the fifties, the coolest cat on the planet was Miles Davis. Especially in the black community, Miles was da shit! My brother had a lot of Miles’ albums, and I used to “practice” in front of the mirror, trying to look like Miles when he played. Of course when I blew the horn, it sounded like pig farts. Funny thing is, when I closed my eyes I saw myself behind a drumkit onstage, dressed real clean, smiling, all into the music.

ZB: Kind of like what you do now?

AP: It’s funny. Looking back, it was prescient. Here I am trying to play the trumpet, and I’m envisioning myself on drums. Guess deep down inside I already knew what I was supposed to do in life.

ZB: Who were your drumming influences back then?

AP: My mother took me to see Duke Ellington and Count Basie many times when I was a kid. I saw Sam Woodyard and Rufus Jones with Duke, and Sonny Payne with the Count live and up close. One time I saw Sam Woodyard play a half-hour solo on his brand new Premier Red Sparkle double bass kit. I didn’t know it at the time, but Duke used to punish his guys when they messed up. Duke used to call every number that featured, let’s say Johnny Hodges, until the guy was blown out. Then Duke would keep on calling his features, wearing his chops out totally! I saw Johnny curse Duke under his breath onstage once, but as a kid, I didn’t understand what was going on. Anyway, Sam was sweating like a horse by break time. Duke introduced Sam, and walked off the stage. The rest of the band followed, one by one, while Sam was soloing. Sam not only played a fantastic 30-minute solo, but continued to fire for the rest of the concert! I remember sitting down in front of Sam’s drums after the concert, just staring at them! I even missed a chance to meet Duke because I wanted to just sit and look at Sam’s drums. I was so amazed!

ZB: So Sam Woodyard was your first influence?

AP: Not really. My hometown, Asbury Park, NJ, was a big summer resort when I was a kid. Lots of people from New York vacationed in the area during the summer. On the block next to mine there were three nightclubs that had live entertainment. I remember lying in bed on hot summer nights listening to the music coming from the clubs before I fell asleep. I heard so much good music I almost didn’t notice it.

I’d given up on doing music by the time I was ten, because I just couldn’t play the trumpet very well. I was still in the grade school band, but I was like, seventh trumpet! And that was fine with me! I wanted to be a nuclear physicist then, and couldn’t have cared less about playing music.

I’d say the person who got me back into music, and into the drums, was an un-named drummer playing with a casual band at the New York World’s Fair when I was 13. They were playing a Beatles song, and the drummer was playing cross-stick. He just looked so cool! I couldn’t get the image of him playing cross-stick out of my head! On the way back home on the bus I tried and tried to do the basic eighth notes with the right hand, two and four backbeat on the left hand until I got it down. After that, the floodgates opened….

ZB: And you haven’t looked back since.

AP: Exactly!

ZB: I heard that you recorded your first hit in 1968?

AP: Yes. It was called “Yes, I Really Love You” by The Equations. We left from high school that day, and it was a big thing, with everybody rooting for us. They even announced it on the school PA system. We drove up to Englewood (NJ) in a big old Chrysler four-door with eight guys. One of us had to lie on the floor so the State Troopers wouldn’t stop us. We didn’t start recording until after midnight. The first track we did was a slow ballad, and it dragged because we were all sleepy and tired.

We did three tracks that night, but it was very hard. None of us liked the producer because he was mean to us. When the record was released, the music was buried in orchestral overdubs and none of the band really liked what happened to our songs. The singers didn’t like it either, but we all had visions of stardom in our heads. Once you hear yourself on the radio, the bad memories have a tendency to disappear. We got some weekend work on the East Coast, but we were all still high school juniors and seniors, so major touring was out of the question. I left to go to university the next summer, but they continued to work for about another year.

ZB: Did you get music credits in high school?

AP: Most definitely! We had a good marching band, and a kind of OK stage band. We also had rivalries with the other high school bands in the area. When I came into the drum line, the leader was rudimental State champion for two years running. I had to start with the marching bass drum, and I never got to touch a snare my first year!

ZB: So “Drumline” accurately portrays life in a typical school drum section?

AP: Yes it does, to a great extent. I wish they would do Drumline 2, and show how the character faces the challenges of developing the ability to play a drum kit. One thing I loved about the movie is how it showed the pride that comes from disciplined study. I feel that’s something we could use a lot more of in music and society.

ZB: Who are some other drummers that influenced you when you first began to play?

AP: I saw Gene Krupa a few times, and I wanted to play like him until I saw Buddy Rich on TV. My brother turned me on to Elvin Jones and Tony Williams. I bought all the albums with Buddy, Elvin and Tony that I could, and wore the grooves out of those records! I used to slow down Buddy Rich’s “West Side Story” solo down to sixteen RPM, attempting to get those licks. My brother gave me a reel-to-reel tape recorder, and I taped performances of Art Blakey, Philly Joe, Papa Jo, Roy Haynes, and Max whenever they were on TV, which was quite a bit those days.

Once I began practicing the drums, I began to watch the drummers in the clubs on the next block over. It was really easy for me to hear when a good drummer was at one of the clubs. The clubs all had big windows on the sides of the stages. Of course, I stood at those windows for hours, watching and listening. The next day, I’d attempt to play what I heard the night before. Good thing was, on the other side of my Mom’s house was a big, black-owned, classy hotel. Most of the out-of-town musicians stayed there. Lots of times, those drummers heard me trying to imitate their playing and stopped by to show me how to do it right. They would check up on me whenever they had gigs in Asbury, ostensibly to show me the newest beats coming out of Manhattan.

One guy, Dick Morris, was really in my corner. He was with (blind organist) Sammy Pugh, who was almost as big as Jimmy Smith or Jack McDuff in those days. Dick actually pushed me into subbing for him with Sammy. He always told me I just needed to play more. I was 15 when Dick told me I was going to play with Sammy. I though he meant in a few years. He meant in a few days! My Moms had to bring me in the club, but everyone was really nice, and to my surprise, Sammy said he liked my playing. I got a few more gigs with Sammy, and I worked off and on with a group of way older jazz musicians because of his recommendations. I was 16, the next youngest guy was 40. When I played something inappropriate, they helped me like loving fathers or big brothers would. Looking back, I guess they saw me taking their advice to heart, and they used me whenever they could. I made some “grown-up” money too.

I saw Joe Dukes when I was sixteen, and he changed my perspective immensely. Joe Dukes was the first drummer I saw to solo over a foot ostinato. He did it in a 6/8 time signature, and I was floored! I went with my buddy, who also was a drummer, and his dad. At the time we pretended that he was Louie Bellson and I was Buddy Rich. We though we were the hot shit because we both had some talent and nice Rogers drumsets. My buddy’s dad used to always tell us we really didn’t know anything about drums, and his dad paid for us to go see Joe Dukes (w/ Jack McDuff) when he came to town.

Of course, the man was absolutely right! Right after that I saw Elvin play “The Long 2/4”, which is a long solo piece from one of his late 60’s albums, and I saw Tony Williams at Lifetime’s first gig later on. That was a very enlightening time for me!

ZB: Did you study music in college?

AP: Not at first. I was on a psychology-philosophy scholarship. My folks wouldn’t hear of me studying to be a professional musician. The school was a short train ride from Manhattan, and I hung in the city lot, though. I left college to go on the road after my freshman year.

ZB: Many people say you have to go to New York if you want to play jazz. What was it like in the early seventies for a young drummer?

AP: It was wide open to a certain extent. Self-contained bands were making hit records, and jazz-rock fusion was just beginning to get a lot of attention. I even did a few hits with Chuck Berry. Studio work was an anonymous profession at the time, and many of us who thought we were so hot turned down offers to record because there was so much live work and touring. The main difference between then and now is the great decrease in the amount of live and studio work for musicians in general.

You could go see Art Blakey, Mel Lewis, Max, Tony, Roy Haynes, Jack DeJohnette and all the other great players almost on a nightly basis! It made for one long drum lesson with the greatest players in the world almost every night.

ZB: What did you learn when you went to play overseas with The Soul Messengers?

AP: I learned the drum in West Africa, of course. But surprisingly, I also learned about the true roots of some of the more “bland” rhythms we drummers sometimes have to play. That really changed my attitude about a lot of things.

ZB: Give me an example of a bland rhythm.

AP: The polka I learned to play at first was a “Broadway Two”. Hi-hat eighths closed tight, playing 1 and 3 on the kick and 2 and 4 on the snare. The way they play it over there is called “pasa-double”, meaning double time. The right hand and kick play 1 and 3, the left hand plays 2 and 4, and the hi-hat foot closes on 2 and 4. It causes the feel to dance instead of being up and down. It sounds a lot cooler too.

Once, I saw an old German drummer with a Bavarian-style waltz band. They had Lederhosen, the hats with the feathers, the whole works. Anyway, the drummer was playing 1, 2 and 3 on the kick, the hat foot was playing 2 and 3, and he was playing a New Orleans-type snare pattern with off-beat cymbal crashes. Much like New Orleans style, he was improvising, but it was still a waltz! Oom-pah music for real!!

I spoke with him on his break, and told him how impressed I was. He said, “My black friend, if you want to play waltzes like a German, you must drink beer like a German!” A few beers later, he told me to phrase along with the melody when I can. “Do that and play pianissimo”, he said. When you play those ethnic musics like the original folks do it opens up whole new musical worlds. You just have to be open to it.

ZB: Was Africa was a big experience for you?

AP: It was huge! Not only did I hear the roots of my soul’s music, I also learned a lot about myself and my ancestral heritage. Being immersed in other cultures taught me so much about the human condition, and artists’ role in that condition!

ZB: And you got to sit in for Bernard Purdie. Tell me how that happened.

AP: I was touring Nigeria in early 1980. Roy Ayers and Nigerian superstar Fela Kuti were doing a high profile tour together and with their own bands, with Purdie playing for Roy. Purdie had other commitments and had to leave the tour early. It seems the Nigerian drummers didn’t give Roy what he was looking for when he tracked with them. My band just happened to be playing in Roy’s hotel nightclub, and he heard there was an American band in the lounge. He heard me play, and sent his road manager to ask if I wanted to do Roy’s session. Next day, I’m on my way out to a state-of-the-art recording studio in the middle of the bush, in almost-equatorial West Africa. Everyone was very nice to me, and evidently Roy was very happy with me. I even got to play on Purdie’s Sonor kit, which made me love Sonor Drums ever since! Later on, I learned Roy was under the gun to do a good album or face contract hassles. He was so relieved that I did OK on the session, he called me “The Lifesaver”. From then on, every time I’ve seen Roy he’s been very warm and generous to me. Plus, I got a lot of session work in a short time in Lagos from that situation. Like I said, I really, really, REALLY loved it there. To the point that I got used to warm beer!

ZB: Why then, did you come back here?

AP: The Messengers had a US tour and recording dates set up from Chicago. Once we got here we did a few high profile gigs and we recorded, but the business got really stinky really fast. Master tapes disappeared. As soon as I began asking about the tapes, our paying gigs dried up too. Typical show-biz horror story. I’d met some good Chicago musicians while hanging out, and after getting fed up with the bullshit in and about the band, I left to gig in Chicago. I also went back to school, this time to study scoring, music theory and composition in a formal setting.

ZB: You’d been composing for a while by then?

AP: I wouldn’t call it ‘composing’ like that. I think that ‘writing’ songs in a band is much different from composing. Bands write songs for that band, composers try to write for any type of musical group, generally speaking. I had a few songs on those master tapes that disappeared in Chicago. I had the copyrights as well. The managers didn’t expect that I would get the copyright BEFORE them, and that’s where all the problems began.

ZB: When was this?

AP: This was 1980. I’d met Pete Cosey, who used to play guitar with Miles Davis. Pete took to me and used me on some of his sessions. Through Pete I got lots of local work. Morris Jennings, “The Human Metronome”, came down to a gig once, and commented about the bad sound of my toms. I just met him, and while I was a little hurt, I remained polite and respectful to him. The next night, Morris comes down and gives me a bunch of brand new Pin Stripe heads for all my toms. “Pin Stripes wipe, man!” That’s what Mo told me as he gave me the heads, and even helped me put them on right there. Mo began throwing some gigs my way as well.

Chicago has a surprising amount of great talent! Oh, yeah….now that I think about it, I had a very surprising gig in Chicago once. I was on a Wednesday afternoon trio hit. The bass player, who is also a good drummer, had the gig and called me for it. I’d never met the piano player before, but the three of us played with lots of fire on the first set. The piano player blew up a storm on soprano sax the last song. This was becoming a nice hit, even though I only had a 2-piece kit. (kick, snare, ride and hi-hat)

On break, I find out that the pianist/saxist is none other than Ari Brown, and he just got off the road with Elvin! So here I was thinking to myself that I’m firing on my little two pieces, and this cat’s been hearing ELVIN JONES every night for the last five weeks. So when he told me who he was, I damn near fainted! I was so embarrassed! I apologized all over the place, and Ari was telling me “No! You’re cool! It’s OK!”. I’m like, “Aw man! I’m tinkling away back there, and you’re with ELVIN!” While I was being self-mortified, Mendye (the bassist) was laughing so hard he almost hurt himself. It turns out he set me up. He wanted Ari to hear me play, so he put me on this gig. That happened to me a lot. There’s lots of really nice people in Chicago. Once they like you, they’ll push you forward.

ZB: The early eighties was the beginning of the drum machine age. Did this affect your studio career?

AP: As they say in Chi-town, “You damn skippy!”. I was just beginning to get a fair amount of paid demo sessions, and had begun to develop a small reputation when drum machines hit. Lots of people I knew lost tons of work almost overnight. That pushed everyone back down “the ladder”.

ZB: Explain “the ladder”.

AP: In New York, the hierarchy was studio and Broadway musicians on top, live concert and “A” level tour guys next, regional artists, and then the locals playing small clubs in/outside the Metro and doing demos at the bottom. The idea was you’d work you way up, eventually being able to play in a studio orchestra doing radio and television or Broadway pit orchestras. The idea was roughly the same in Chicago and Los Angeles. Start at the bottom and work your way up.

When the machines hit, the studio and Broadway guys began to tour again. Everyone else began to go back a step too. It was just getting to the point where I was doing enough demos to turn down gigs I didn’t want when the machines hit. The owner of one of the demo studios recommended me to (Blues great) Might Joe Young. At the time, the Blues wasn’t my most favorite style of music, but I needed a gig, and Joe had a good name.

ZB: I’ve heard you do the Blues, and you play that style very well. You have an open-handed shuffle approach I’ve not seen before. Where did you learn that? Would you describe the approach?

AP: Joe’s bass player, Benny Turner turned me onto this. It’s a basic turn-around to what drummers normally play. I play the shuffle on the snare, and the backbeat on closed hi-hats. When you bring the music up, you play quarter notes on the hat, but continue “riding” the snare. You still play ‘1’ and ‘3’ on the kick. Next dynamic up is the double handed shuffle on the ride cymbal and snare, with “four on the floor”. The next dynamic up is to shuffle with the kick as well as the hands. The hi-hat plays the ‘four’ now.

This approach gives you so much dynamic range without difficulty. Once I got over the newness of it, it really felt good, and it made my playing so much more emotional. For me, playing with Joe was like going to a finishing school for music. Not only did I learn how to play The Blues ‘Chicago-style’, but I also learned how to keep “The Blues” in every music style I play. Taking it up and bringing it down. Dynamics! It’s so simple, but so effective.

ZB: That’s what I really wanted to talk about. One of the things that impresses me most about your playing is your dynamic control. It’s not so much what you play as it’s how you play it. Last time I saw you it seemed that you were playing melodies behind the singer and band. What’s your concept for playing? How did you get it (this concept)?

AP: To be brief, I strive to be a musician that plays the drums, as opposed to being a drummer. See, you can tell I practiced that answer! I “arrived” at this conclusion by being fortunate and blessed enough to have had great teachers and role models. I consider people like Gene, Buddy, Papa Jo, Bid Sid, Max, and Art my musical “daddies”. I look up to and admire people like Tony, Jack, Steve Gadd, Harvey Mason, Cobham and all the others and consider them my musical big brothers. I’ve also been lucky enough that some really great musicians saw some talent in me and took the time to teach me. Most of these weren’t drummers, but they taught me what they wanted from drummers musically. However well I might play has everything to do with these great and giving people and the Almighty. The only credit I can take is that I wasn’t stupid enough to ignore the knowledge that was being offered to me.

ZB: You had a pretty lively career in Canada as well, didn’t you? You branched out into television production while you were up there.

AP: Canada treated me very well, for the most part. I got staff gigs with CBC (Canadian Broadcasting Company), and a few studios, did lots of major hits and festivals, taught at college level and began my television career there. I was pleasantly surprised at the level of official support the arts receive up there. There are some artists deserving of wider recognition that live and work in Canada, but for many reasons, it’s just not out front like it is here in the States.

ZB: Let’s talk about your television career for a moment. What led you to TV?

AP: A very dark period in my personal life.

ZB: Do you mind going into some details?

AP: Let’s just say I’d just gotten out of a bad marriage, and the only gig I had was with a shitty society band. In trying to figure out why the music I loved wasn’t paying the bills, it came to me that the public needed to be educated about jazz. (laughs sarcastically) As if they care! To make a long story short, I developed and produced “Prairie Soul”, a TV documentary on 20th century Black music in Canada. It got picked up by PBS and Bravo. Yale and York Universities still use it in their curricula.

I then wrote, produced and hosted “Tracking The Beat” and “Iced Jazz”, and both series had high ratings and won awards in Canada. My wife (now) said she’s never seen me happier than when I’m in post- production on a project. That’s somewhat true.

ZB: Are you saying you’re into TV more than music these days?

AP: Naw, man! Nothing like that at all! I love to do TV. The production process is very much like making music, and the creative skills you need for music translate quite easily to video and TV production. Let’s say I love being a TV producer, but when I fill out applications I write “musician” in the racial identity box!

ZB: I have just a few more questions. Who is your all-around favorite drummer?

AP: There’s two, actually. Jack DeJohnette, because of his career and especially because his style of playing is the style I most admire and respect. A bass player once told me that I sounded like Jack’s little brother. That was one of the highest compliments I have ever received. Jack is the complete musician and artist, at a level very few will ever reach. Jeff “Tain” Watts is the other one. Tain plays like how I wish I sounded when I play. He says it’s sloppy, but can only hope that my playing could be so beautifully “sloppy”. Both of these brothers play time like it’s boiling water. The time is right there, but it’s boiling and hot and steaming, with unexpected bubblings all over the place. Their time is very deep, with all kinds of colors up in there. And they do it all within the context of the music. They can play all the styles, but still sound like themselves! That to me is the very epitome of musical accomplishment!

ZB: What’s coming up next for you?

AP: Last year, I spoke to my brother and sister from my father’s second marriage for the first time. My brother’s in Los Angeles, and he’s trying to influence us to move out there. He’s in show business too, acting and producing. While I’ve had a little fun playing in the Upper Midwest, we’re both feeling it’s time to move on. Until recently I was in sort of a slump, artistically. Through no fault of my own, I’ve had to deal with some serious issues concerning my distant family. I also have to say that I find the accepted level of local musical “expertise” disheartening, to say the least. People out here have a difficult time with the concept of “professional musician”. I have sadly discovered many times that things I think are “de regulier” don’t ever occur to cats up here. It has been big source of frustration for me. I always try to remember that what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. Life will throw curves at you. It’s how you deal with those curves! You’ve heard it before. If life gives you lemons, you make lemonade! That sort of thing.

I guess I should plug my upcoming first release as a producer in a very long time. It’s a Blues CD by The Brothers Curtis, “It’s You That’s Got To Go!”, and it’s just been released (March 2004). I’m proud of the work we did, and just maybe, we might get an award for it. At least I haven’t lost my studio chops! I’m also in pre-production for my first release as a leader.

Luckily, I have my wife with me. In large part thanks to her love, understanding and support I was able to persevere through mucho bovine fecal matter. In fact, I’m looking forward to the future and doing lots more playing and producing. It’s really important to marry to right person, especially if you’re trying to be an honest artist in this society. That’s something I always tried to tell my students. Surround yourself with the right people, and stay away from the wrong ones. By the wrong ones, I mean the people who can hurt your career and artistic hopes.

ZB: Anything else you’d like to tell young, aspiring drummers and musicians?

AP: A few things. It’s hard to soar like an eagle when you work with turkeys. The most dangerous thing to the integrity of music is the nearly talented. Be into music because you love it, not because you want to piss off your parents or have lots of money, girls, etc. If you say you love music, then you will learn as much about it as you can. Don’t be an illiterate musician. With cable and satellite technology, instructional videos and such, there’s no longer any excuse for ‘musicians’ anywhere not to know what’s going on in the major music capitals. Most importantly, Dizzy Gillespie said, “You got to get an instant bullshit detector!”.

Adrian Peek

Issac “Zeke” Bibby is a freelance journalist, world traveler and professional bon vivant.

©2004 Issac Bibby

Epilogue

Very early one Sunday morning in August 2006 this writer literally ran into Adrian Peek in the San Francisco International Airport while changing planes. The following conversation was had over a surprisingly good, but quick, airport breakfast.

ZB: So, what are you doing in SFO this early in the morning?

AP: I’m on my way back home after a big band hit in Seattle last night.

ZB: Los Angeles is being good to you apparently!

AP: I’ve been really lucky. Before we moved out I joined “47” (LA’s Musician’s Union) and I had made a contact there. Had sub gigs with two big bands, auditioned for a fully funded showcase band and did a legit demo session before we’d been there a week! The leader got really sick about a month after, the regular guy came back and that was it for those projects. Then things got more “realistic”.

ZB: So you DID pay some dues, yes?

AP: Oh yeah!! For over a year I had one of those legendary LA $40 a night gigs. The difference was the musicians were all guys that’d made their money. I was gigging with Jimmie Maddin , who was an LA early rock legend of sorts. He knew lots of people who’d had success in the industry, but they were mostly all retired. So the gig wasn’t a lot of pressure, and at least I was working some instead of not at all. I have to admit, though, that there were some pretty dark days felt by all. It didn’t help that Julie had a horrific commute and crappy job too!

ZB: And now?

AP: Well, the first thing is one of the big bands began calling me, and after the regular drummer moved to Sacramento, I got the gig. Then we moved from the Valley to the (area code for West LA) “310” be closer to Julie’s new and better job with a PR firm. I came into a bit of money, and I now have a full (Power Mac) G5 project studio for TV and film scoring and HD editing. Through the big band I got a lot of other gigs, including playing at (actor) Jack Black’s super-secret wedding reception!

ZB: Didn’t he marry one of (jazz bass legend) Charlie Haden’s daughters?

AP: Yeah. I even got to speak with Mr. Haden briefly! Both families are very talented musically! Jack’s brother performed, I played with his saxist sister, and Mr. Haden’s trio did a set as well. The backline (drumkits, amps, etc.) was unreal, Yo!!!!

ZB: And your gig last night? And what’s the name of the act?

AP: The formal name is Chester Whitmore and The Opus One Big band. We headlined a Swing Dance festival up there. A lot of history was there, and now Frankie Marshall and Norma Miller (King and Queen of Swing Dance from the PBS “Jazz” documentary) are in my resume. Norma received a Presidential Medal of Freedom last year. Seems there’s another Swing Dance craze coming again. They’re trying to go national with this act. We’re going to Minneapolis and Tampa next month. We’ll see what develops.

ZB: Any other gigs?

AP: I’m doing Larry Williams, who’s an R&B/Smooth Jazz artist. He gigs regularly in LA, and there’ some potential there as well. I have a gig with a New Orleans-style band that does second line for Chinese funerals, and……

ZB: Wait a minute!!! Second line for Chinese funerals??!!

AP: This is sooo cool! A Chinatown funeral home hires us to play two selections in the chapel and then march in the procession to the graveyard. I find it profound that there are so many cultural crossovers in LA. Even in the midst of their sorrow, the families have us come to provide an African-American take on the passing of loved ones. That, my friend, is very deep and very, very human!

(a flight announcement is heard over the PA) That’s my flight!! Better get in line now instead of later, Eh?

ZB: OK. One last thing. What’s the project studio all about?

AP: The plan is to get some work scoring for TV and films. I have to be realistic when thinking about the future of this industry. There will always be a need for live music, but the type of gigs you can begin to build for retirement…..Union gigs that is…….are few and far between, unfortunately. I feel there still is a great need for me to diversify into composing for media at this point. I love to write anyway, so why shouldn’t I invest the time and money to go in this direction? Yes, learning my rig is JUST like learning a new instrument, and I’m struggling with my orchestral chops almost daily, not to mention learning to mix “in the box”!! Fact is, I have to stop myself from complaining that my gigs are delaying me working on my writing and computer chops!! I have most definitely been in much worse situations. Yo soy Angelino!!!!

© 2006 Issac Bibby Show less