(Music) Bio

In a nutshell...

Early 90s.

Greensboro, North Carolina.

A music-store sales guy is convincing me I really want to buy a PRS electric guitar — PRS guitars were "new" back then — rather than a Gibson Les Paul, which I'd always wanted. "You'll get a Les Paul and a Stratocaster both in one guitar. And more"

(Earlier, I'd purchased lots from him, including a Yamaha SY77 keyboard, so we knew each other.)

"Wish I could afford a PRS," he added. "I used to be a professional musician. I was on the road for 15 years. It was great. Then the gigs dried up. I sold all my gear. ALL my gear. Now I work in a music store."

In response I said, "In my teens — in England — I thought seriously about becoming a musician.

"Then, this amazing rock band came to the "Jazz Club" at my school. Truly talented musicians. I couldn't believe they were playing schools.

"I got talking to the lead guitarist. He said the band had been on the road for over ten years. None of their record deals had ever panned out. They lived in their van. The band was close to throwing in the towel.

"It was then I decided I'd find a non-music way to pay the bills.

"My goal was to be financially secure enough to afford the gear I wanted, and not  ever be forced to sell a beloved guitar to make ends meet."

Silence.

"You made the right decision," the music-store sales guy said. "You really did."

Since then, I've paid the bills as a clinical psychologist, creativity/innovation consultant, and teacher — and passionately pursued my music avocation, without ever having to sell a guitar or keyboard I loved. When it's time to part with a guitar, I find it a good home.

These days, you can do more than play: you can have a high-quality recording studio right in your home.

So—

No regrets.

Out of the Nutshell, A Tree Growed Tall...

England

At 13, I got my first guitar, an inexpensive, nylon-string classical guitar.

Before that I'd taken the obligatory piano lessons from an early age. Mrs. Robinson in Portola Valley, California was ever patient. But at age 10, the piano teacher at the first boarding school I attended in England, did not like "Yanks." At 12 I moved to Abingdon School and, remarkably, my new piano teacher didn't like "Yanks" either — so I was allowed to drop piano.

The early 70s was an exciting time in music, and  Abingdon was a music school. My friends were into The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, The Who, Led Zeppelin, King Crimson, Brian Eno, Frank Zappa, and Pink Floyd, as well as less-remembered bands such as Status Quo, Hawkwind, Wishbone Ash, Greenslade, Captain Beefheart, Henry Cow, Babe Ruth, and Rare Bird. 

Genesis had started out at Charter House, a school a lot like ours. Years later, Radiohead would get its start at Abingdon.

But it was YES that caught my ear: Steve Howe's remarkable guitar playing, Jon Anderson's lyrics, Rick Wakeman's keyboard prowess, Chris Squire's melodic bass lines, and Bill Bruford's jazz-inspired drumming, not to mention Roger Dean's imaginative LP covers. 

Inspired by Steve Howe I took up classical guitar (and now own a Gibson ES-175 that, I was told by the previous owner, had once belonged to Steve Howe). I also joined the  chapel choir and took voice lessons.

In Crescent House, Andy Faunch and David Blackburn both played EKO 12-strings, and it wasn't long before I had one too. That guitar went with me to Africa, to Princeton, and to Japan. I gave it to a good friend when I found a Taylor 12-string that sang to my soul — I hadn't even been looking for a 12-string.

I played in Frame: Brian Jones (lead vocals), Dudley Philips (bass), Chris Wyatt (drums), and myself (guitar, vocals). Our notorious claim to (local) fame: at a major recital, the Music School was empty until Frame went on; when we went on, the Music School was suddenly packed to the gills; when we finished our 3-song segment the Music School emptied; we were never invited top another recital!

I well recall what we played at the Music School event: "I Shot the Sheriff" (Eric Clapton), "Can't Get No Satisfaction" (The Rolling Stones), "You Ain't Seen Nothing Yet" (Bachman Turner Overdrive), and for the finale, a YES-inspired song I'd written, "Eclipse of the Dying Sun."

Later, I played in Antigon. The Antigon keyboards player, Tim Hemmings, was a Grade 8 — the standard required for entry to higher study in a music college — classical-piano wizard who idolized Rick Wakeman, and could compose and play true, prog-rock YES brilliance. Today I look at our on-stage performance cues and wonder how we pulled it off!

"The Ripening of the Grapes" and "Alone" were recorded in 1977, on a small cassette-recorder I'd borrowed from a friend. Not bad for a 40+ year old recordings.

Africa

My 1977-1978 gap-year in the Transkei, South Africa, brought a collaboration with Kit Stone, a fellow singer/songwriter in the Bob Dylan tradition.

Together we wrote Ukumandisa, a musical. While the script fell to pieces over the years, Kit and I did  cassette-player-record all the songs. The "If You Want to Get Ahead" audio was recorded live in 1982.

While we tried our best to steer clear of apartheid politics, our "Jail Song" got us in trouble with the South African Secret Police (who had started showing up, uninvited, at our hospital parties). It didn't help that Steve Biko's wife worked at our hospital, and that I had attended Steve Biko's funeral in Kingwilliamstown.

We were well into Ukumandisa rehearsals and had booked a stage in Encgobo, the capital of Transkei, when the production was shut down: the (white) Secret Police approached our (African) actresses and warned them away; in a few short weeks, our cast had evaporated.

Kit and I put our best face on it all, playing impromptu gigs as we over-landed for 4 months through Swaziland, Namibia, Botswana, Mozambique, Tanzania, and Kenya. Naturally, we loudly sang "The Jail Song"!

"Time to Live" was written in the Transkei.

Princeton

My songbook is full of songs written between 1978 and 1982.

An important lesson: my first girlfriend was a music major who had studied under David Diamond at Juliard (and now directs an opera company in Switzerland). For a time, I was so intimidated by her classical-music and compositional creds that I completely stopped writing, and almost stopped playing. After we broke up I learned through a mutual friend that — contrary to my terrible fears — she loved my songs. In truth: writing a decent song with a good melody is no easy matter, for anyone.

The high point: A mainly-solo performance at the Princeton University Art Museum.

How I pulled this off I do not recall. I guess 20-somethings with drive just get things done. But there I was, on the Princeton University Art Museum stage playing my 6- and 12-string guitars and my (very heavy) Rhodes electric piano, sharing my music. I shared so much there was even an intermission. And the audience returned for the second half!

For several songs, Les Sharfstein joined me on lead guitar. I was living off campus with non-student musicians, some of whom were in a band then called Channel 32. I believe Ross Troy (bass guitar) knew Les, and put us in touch. Anyways, Les played brilliant lead guitar on a black Gibson Les Paul . He later went off to New York to work as a professional musician. Ross managed to get a (for the time) decent recording of the concert. Les played a wonderful Neil-Young-&-Crazy-Horse-energized solo on "Electric Dances."

The low point: My mother died, age 50, in 1982. "Mary Levering" was written in her memory and publicly performed for the first time at the Art Museum concert. To this day, I cannot play this song without crying. This recording was played at both my mother and father's memorial services.

New Hope, Philadelphia, Tokyo, Greensboro

Graduate school. Starting a family. Studying the martial arts in Japan. Beginning a new career in North Carolina.

Through it all, I wrote songs and played away, taking every opportunity to play live.

Vienna (Virginia)

In the mid 90s I moved to Vienna, Virginia. While there, I co-founded Peripheral Visions, a decidedly progressive-rock band.

As the lead guitarist was also a techie, we leapt into creating an ADAT studio. This was my first experience learning the ins and outs of serious recording — and I'm very happy I'm no longer struggling to get two ADATs to talk to one another! Today's computer-based Digital Audio Workstations are a breeze in comparison.

Weirdly, as the band disintegrated — a long story! — the ADATs and all our recordings disappeared. To this day, I do not know where they disappeared to. A real loss.

Fortunately, I do have a few lo-quality recordings to keep the Peripheral Visions memories alive.

Baltimore

When I moved to Baltimore, I set my eyes on creating a computer-based, home recording studio.

I took a wonderful course at the Peabody Conservatory (Johns Hopkins): Mastering Digital Performer (MOTU's non-linear-editing program). "This Time" was my first NLE project. A steep learning curve, but a good way to learn.

When a friend in London got married, I pushed myself to create a composition for her that not only stretched my musical horizons, but which also required me to dive into Digital Performer as never before. The result: the 17-minute-long "Alone • Meeting • Dancing • Moonlight" — and my first ever use of samples.

By the time a good friend got married at the Museum of Pop Art in Seattle, my non-linear-editing confidence was settling in. "Just the Beginning" was written for his wedding, in the best Annie Lennox style I could muster — his wife loved Annie Lennox.

While in Baltimore, I made two independent full-length feature films. Among other things, I pulled the music together for both projects.