The Best Gigs I Ever Played In - by Pete Vogel

Poor JCE didn’t know the Pandora’s Box he would open by sharing his favorites list.

I imagine that a good percentage of Pencilstorm readers are working - or formerly-working - musicians and I imagine all have some wonderful stories to share about gigging.  When JCE originally posted about his top ten list, I knew this would snowball in many different directions: best concerts, worst concerts, near misses, etc. I thought I’d take a stab in another direction - which will probably lead down yet another path - and this is aptly called: The Best Gigs I Ever Played In.  Here she goes:

June, 1983 – Some Dive Bar in downtown Louisville, KY (The Toll)

The most famous band I ever played in was The Toll: I joined them while still in high school.  I met Brad Circone at a party (he was dating a classmate), and he asked me to join the band. I was actually a 9-to-5 punker and a total phony: I would meet up with the guys, jam to Clash and Sex Pistols tunes, then go home and crank up Ozzy and Zep.  I didn’t dare tell my bandmates about my ‘double life’ because I’m sure they would lynch me.

Myke Rock was our tour manager at the time; he booked us a Sunday night gig in Louisville, KY.  It was our first out-of-town gig, so I was both excited and nervous. We left on a Sunday afternoon: the band took two vehicles to the show, and we drove the six-hour journey from Columbus to Louisville.  We arrived at the downtown club at dusk and were shocked and disappointed that only three people showed up. Brad was pissed.

“Look—we just drove 6 fucking hours to play for these people, so we’re going to give them a show they’ll never forget!”

It’s amazing what raw anger can do to a punk band: we raised the roof that night.  Everybody was on top of their game: Doug Marrah (bass), Rick Silk (lead/rhythm guitar) and Brad (lead vocals, rhythm) put on a show for the ages for these three punk rockers in attendance. The crowd was beyond elated that we didn’t phone it in for the paltry turnout; they loved every minute of it.

I’d just graduated from 12 years of Catholic school so I was a little nervous about what transpired next: one of the female punkers came back to the dressing room and sat on my lap.  She had green hair and her breath was a toxic mix of alcohol, cigarettes, weed and lord-knows-what. I didn’t have the heart to tell her I was a former altar boy and recent grad from Catholic high school.  

“I like drummers,” she said.  I wasn’t sure what to say back, so I mumbled something stupid like: “I like girls.”

We left the club around 3am and drove straight back to Columbus, arriving Monday morning around 9am.  We were groggy and despondent over the gig, but it was the trip of a lifetime and the best gig we ever played while I was part of the band.

I moved to LA in 1984 because I thought The Toll weren’t going anywhere.  While I struggled to make a name for myself in Hollywood, my former mates were signed to Geffen Records.  I left California in 1985 only to have my Cali roommate - Tommy Caradonna - sign with Lita Ford.

Ugh.

August, 1998 – Some Campus House Concert (The Balance)

The Balance was a six-piece jam band that I played with for three years (1997-2000).  It was a unique cast of characters that liked the “idea” of being in a band more than actually “being” in a band (i,e.. more bong hits than rehearsals).  The band was comprised of Rick Bahner (vocals, acoustic guitar), Huston Wolfe (bass), Ralph Evans (percussion), Mark Deffet (lead guitar), Kevin Deffet (harmonica, banjo) and yours truly (drums).  I always wanted to be in a jam band because you only had to learn three songs. That makes for an easy gig.

We were hired to play a house concert before house concerts were a thing; it was a campus party and it was summer quarter…..meaning we could play until all hours of the night.  The band actually rehearsed for this show and we were beginning to sound like a band, not just drunken stoners with instruments.

We always handed out percussion at our shows (shakers, tambo, bongos) and that night we had an enthusiastic crowd that was really interested in finding a groove with us.  We placed congas and bongos around the room, brought extra shakers and tambourines with us, and really engaged the crowd in becoming “one” with us.

[Caveat: Huston talked me into taking an ecstasy pill that night.  I thought my drug-taking days were behind me, but I was in a pretty chill mood so we split a pill between us.]  

The band really grooved and the crowd grooved with us.  There were some 40 or 50 people at the party and about ten of them were playing along with us.  We’d start into a groove on an old classic tune - “Ain’t No Sunshine,” for instance - and before you knew it, the groove transcended the band and spilled over into the crowd.  People who had never played an instrument in their lives were suddenly transported by the rhythm of the music and were jamming alongside us. It was truly magical—it was our own private Woodstock.  

We played until 3am; every song lasted 20 minutes.  No cops ever showed. [We figured if they did they’d simply grab an instrument and play along—that’s how magical that night was.]  We did lengthy versions of all our songs; the girls all danced and giggled, the guys jammed along with the band and it was an out-of-body experience for all those who were present.

ps. Ecstasy may have contributed.  

At the end of the show—while we were packing away our stuff—Mark Deffet said out loud: “We weren’t playing music tonight.  Music was playing us..” Amen.

August, 2000 – Barrister Hall (Brotherton)

I quit working with The Balance in 2000 because we were only capable of playing two good shows a year.  The other shows were ill-fated attempts at keeping any one of our alcoholic, stoner bandmates sober for the entirety of a gig.  Mission unaccomplished.

John Bolzenius introduced me to Kevin Brotherton, a clean-cut teetotaler who was seriously interested in playing good music.  He came from the Stevie Ray/Eric Johnson school of bluesy improvisation, so it was nice to play with someone who truly cared about tone (and sobriety).  He used to plug a Fender Twin along with a Marshall stack into an A/B switch and when he blended the two amps together it sounded like Neal Schon on “Lights.”  Fucking tone freak.

We added a bass player - Mark Cantwil - and I pulled double duty on drums and keys.  As a power trio it was fun to put out as much sound as possible; Mark had great vocal chops, Kevin had a huge guitar sound and I bought a new set of Yamaha Recording Customs for the sole purpose of trying to get the largest sound out of the smallest size drums (mission accomplished).  

Being in a power trio is fun—everyone has to work really hard.  Kevin was an average vocalist, but when he and Mark sang together it was really full.  We had a big sound for a power trio and it was very challenging to pull it off. And there were far less headaches dealing with three schedules as opposed to six.  

Barrister Hall was running a rare Sunday Night Rock Series for a while back in 2000, and we were hired to play one of its premiere shows.  We were very excited about being in the upscale club, where jazz, bourbon and cigars generally flourished. Unfortunately, the night of our gig only four people showed up.  We were so pissed about the lousy crowd that we took our anger out on our instruments. We blasted through original after original, jamming out instrumentals and playing as loud as we could.  The show was so much fun for those four lonely souls that the bartender actually stage-dove off the riser and broke a chair at the end of the show!

Thank God we didn’t have to drive home from Louisville at the end of that gig.

July, 2010 – Akron Italian Festival (Stadium 11)

I never really enjoyed playing in cover bands until I joined Stadium 11.  I had worked with two of its members back in the day -James Paat and Bob Mains - and they were top-notch musicians.  We assembled a setlist within a couple of practices, brought in Cliff Stanton and Mike Matko on vocals and bass, and within a couple of months were out playing big-time gigs.  

Stadium 11 fell together so quickly that we hardly had time to process it.  We all loved classic rock, so for us to cobble together 30 tunes only took two rehearsals.  The songs were a part of our childhood, so we didn’t have to work hard to get the arrangements in order.

James booked us a gig in Akron at the Italian Festival, we were opening up for a Journey cover band.  We knew Akron was rebounding from a tumultuous recession, but decided to play the gig anyhow. We thought it would be a total bust: drive two-plus hours to play for a dozen folks at a crappy event.  We drove up separately on a Friday afternoon and when we reached Lock 3 - a renovated space downtown - we couldn’t believe our eyes: There were thousands of people already milling about, the weather was perfect, and Lock 3 is essentially Akron’s version of Columbus Commons.

We arrived at the stage and a half-dozen roadies helped us with our gear.  They gave us bottled water and a dressing room. The roadies moved all our equipment to the stage and assisted in setting up.  As showtime approached, between 8 & 10,000 people were sitting on the side of the hill, ready to embark on some classic rock from these out-of-towners.

We hit the stage in full stride.  Adrenaline was high. Even though this was a new crowd, we knew they would like the songs.  We dove into cover after cover: “Too Hard to Handle” by the Black Crowes; “Roll With the Changes” by REO; “Alright Now” by Free, etc.  As we played song after song, the crowd slowly moved closer and closer to the stage and by the time we played “Kashmir” they were putty in our hands.  

We played 90 minutes without stopping and every song was better than the last.  We could hear the music wafting off the buildings in the distance and bouncing back.  People were dancing, milling about, getting closer and closer to the stage. When all forces come together like this: perfect weather, perfect setting, perfect stage, perfect crowd, perfect sound—magic truly happens.  Everyone was at the top of their game: James on keys, Bob on guitar, Cliff on vocals, Jeff Taylor (Mike’s replacement) on bass and yours truly on drums.

After the show, an older gentleman came to the front of the stage and whistled for me to come over.  I was a little nervous, he looked straight out of “The Godfather” with his jet-black hair combed back like Elvis.  I’m half-paisan, so I just imagined he was a long-lost relative coming to greet an old cousin.  

I cautiously wandered to the front of the stage: “What’s up?” I asked, guarded yet friendly.

“I just wanted to tell you that was the best rock drumming I’ve heard in 20 years.”  

“Wow…” I said.  “Thank you…I really appreciate that.”

I was embarrassed that I was nervous greeting him, because all he wanted to do was make my day.  What a kind soul—what a wonderful thing to say. What a perfect night.

Before the show began, I noticed an elderly hippie couple sitting in the center of the audience.  They both wore long white hair, tie-dye shirts and Lennon sunglasses. They looked to be in their mid- to late-60s.  I was concerned they wouldn’t like our set: we rock’n’rollers might be too loud and large for their tastes, but as we strummed the first chord they immediately got to their feet and remained there, dancing to every tune.  For the entire 90 minutes they never sat down, and grooved from one tune to the next.

Cliff and I decided to accost them after the gig to thank them for their enthusiasm and energy.  We walked up to them, shook their hands and said: “Thanks so much for dancing to our entire set. You totally made our day.”

The couple looked at each other, then back at Cliff and me.  The hippie guy furrowed his brow and said to us: “Who are you guys?”

August 2009 – Woodlands Tavern, Columbus (Matt Monta & The Hot Coal Band)

Playing with Stadium 11 was fun, but original music was still my passion.  I longed to play in a band that cared about original music, and Matt Monta answered the bell in 2009.  

He was fronting a band - The Hot Coal Band - but their drummer, Slim, was having back surgery and needed a replacement.  They asked if I’d sit in on a couple of gigs while they found someone else. Of course I jumped at the opportunity; even though I was a decade older than everyone else, I felt relevant playing with the young kids at all the cool spots.  

The Hot Coal Band was outstanding: Matt on guitar, harmonica and vocals; Bree Frick on cello, percussion and vocals; Andy Shaw on bass and trumpet; Chris Shaw on fiddle, mandolin and percussion and yours truly behind the kit.  We did 90% originals in the spirit of Johnny Cash on crack. It was pure magic.

We reached our pinnacle opening up for Deb Landolt and the Drifter Kings.  It was a packed house at Woodlands on a beautiful Friday night and the double billing was as good as advertised—which we did a lot of for that show.  

The gig itself was a blur: I could barely remember the details of the show, but it was 80 minutes of in-your-face rockabilly that featured everyone in the band.  I believe the only cover we did was Elvis Costello’s “Watching the Detectives” and we simply destroyed every song. The crowd whooped and hollered, danced all over the place and the venue was at fever pitch by the time we left the stage.  I remembered thinking to myself: “This is the beginning of something truly special.”

The band reached their peak that night.  A couple months later Andy left the band.  Two months after that Chris was gone, too. We hung on for another year with replacements but it all fell apart by 2011.  Go figure. A band that I thought would survive a decade was dead and gone within two years. Ugh.

There are many honorable mentions, but these five stood out because I distinctly remember the magical feeling I had after each show.  I will carry those memories to my grave. I’m looking forward to others’ posts! - Pete

My Top Five Concerts of All Time - by Pete Vogel

To continue with JCE’s inspiration to document powerful musical experiences, I’ve decided to write about my top five live concerts in the hopes of inspiring others to write about theirs.  It’s always great to hear input from other writers about the music that moves them.

This was a hard list to come up with: I’ve been to hundreds of concerts and have also played in – arguably – hundreds more.  I’ve seen so many unbelievable shows that it’s hard to classify which of the five were the most unbelievable. But after giving it some serious thought, I came up with this list because for one reason or another they resonated a little differently than others have.  

5. Quadrophenia Tour – Schottenstein Center (2/18/2013)

This wasn’t the first Quadro tour I had ever seen, but this was the most memorable.  The Who were going out as a duet this time (Daltrey, Townshend) but with a host of special guests: Zak Starkey behind the kit; brother Simon on guitar; Pino on bass.  The video/lights were extraordinary. My favorite part was when Roger sang to the video screen during “Bell Boy” where they had a montage of Keith Moon’s performances over the years.  Truly spellbinding. A real tear-jerker for any Who fan.

This is my favorite album of The Who and I think their penultimate masterpiece.  Better than Tommy. Better than “Who’s Next.” It’s the best thing the Who ever produced, IMO.

4. The Rolling Stones – Ohio Stadium (5/30/2015)

I fucking hate the Rolling fucking Stones.  Hate them. With a passion. Worst band ever.  

Horrible, ugly singer.  Lazy drummer. Guitarist has been clinically dead since 1974….hell…maybe even 1794…isn’t he like 350 years old?  The Stones suck. By law I have to say that since I’m a Who fan. You can’t like the Who and simultaneously like the fucking Stones: I’m sorry.  You can’t like Michigan AND Ohio State. Same thing. Fuck the Stones.

That said: The Stones blew me out of the water.  Out. Of. The. Water. Great performance. Great crowd.  Great musicianship. Great singing. Lots of special guests.  They even sang “Hang On Sloopy!” I finally GOT the Stones, and they immediately hopped up to my top five concerts of all time.  So you can say they shut my ass up for two and a half hours. Made me eat my words. Humble pie. Lots of it.

My favorite part of the night?  Mick Jagger on “Midnight Rambler.”  I will remember that until the day I die.  His harp playing. His singing. His dancing.  Wow. Just wow.

Did I mention I fucking hate the fucking Rolling fucking Stones?    

3.  Sir Paul McCartney -  Nationwide Arena (10/13/2015)

Royalty.  Sir Paul. Most famous person on the planet.  And deserving of everything he’s gotten. What an amazing show.  Joy. Laughter. Tears. Ballads. Rockers. Something for everyone.  Iconic. Jaw-dropping. After watching Sir Paul work his magic, everything else feels kinda minor league to me.  He actually kinda started the fire, when you truly think about it. It was nice paying homage to the source. A true genius.

2.  Yes Union Tour – Nutter Center (5/4/1991)  

I love Yes.  In many ways they are very, very high on my list of all-time favorite bands.  Very high. Nobody sounds like them. Nobody plays like them. Nobody works the highest chakra than Yes.  They are more than music: They are a movement. Yes music is a philosophy, a worldview, a consciousness. Yes music will be played in 200 years.  Yes music is the most heavenly thing I’ve ever experienced on this earth. In heaven they will be playing Yes music.

When the band decided to join forces with its primary contributors, I wasn’t sure how I’d feel about the show.  My personal favorite lineup was Close to the Edge (Howe, Anderson, Bruford, Wakeman, Squire), but I also dug the later incarnation (Rabin, White, Kaye).  Yes Union melded the two forms in-the-rotating-round concert that was otherworldly. Truly spellbinding. Rock, classical, innovative, spiritual.

My favorite part of the night actually came when they played a song I was unfamiliar with: “Awaken” (off the Going for the One LP).  They had an interlude featuring harp, bells and Wakeman on keys. Spellbinding. Then they ramped it up into the mother of all crescendos: I could almost feel myself levitating.  I rarely have out-of-body experiences at concerts (well…sober, at least) but tonight was the night that I became a different person. Wow. My soul expanded listening to them perform that night.

1. Jeff Lynne’s Electric Light Orchestra (8/16/2018)

The reason why I have to give a nod to ELO over Yes, Sir Paul and The Who was because I discovered the band on my own when I was in the sixth or seventh grade.  My older brother Jim was the brain-trust to our musical journeys during childhood, but this was my first step into actual autonomy. As a teenager reared in the safe suburban sprawl of upper-middle-class Catholic school conformity, Jeff Lynne represented my first experience into widening my soul.  With songs such as “Strange Magic,” “Telephone Line” and “One Summer Dream” my inner life was slowly taking form due to his genius.

I had seen an incarnation of ELO back in the 90s, but its primary writer and voice wasn’t a part of the project.  Same music, different soul. So it was a homecoming to witness Mr. Lynne singing the songs that moved mountains. He played everything I hoped for and more.  I was surprised how emotional I got during the concert, but I guess when something resonates within you as a teenager those memories are wrapped in gold.

Honorable mentions?  I got ten. Monte Montgomery at Anton’s in Austin, TX (look him up).  Rush at Cooper Stadium. Yanni at Polaris (yep…you read that correctly…I love Yanni!),  Collective Soul at Newport Music Hall. Marillion at Newport Music Hall. Tears for Fears at Newport Music Hall.  The Who Farewell tour at Rupp Arena in Lexington. The Swell Season at Palace Theater. The Police at Richfield Coliseum.  And lastly: Tony Bennett at The Ohio Theater.

I hope you enjoyed the series.  I’m looking forward to hearing others’ top five concerts of all time!  Thanks for reading! - Pete Vogel

Ten Albums That Changed My Life - by Pete Vogel

With gratitude to both JCE (whoever that is) and CG, I am happy to share with Pencilstorm readers the top ten albums that changed my life. I could literally write a book on the subject, but I’ll keep it as brief as I can.

The reasons why I’d call these albums “life-changing” is because they helped form my soul during times of inner turmoil and confusion. Being raised Catholic—and attending Catholic schools for twelve years—was often oppressive. Catechism taught us one thing, family dynamics something else, and music became a third teacher.

Mom had a small collection of albums she bought when we were young: they included works by Carole King, Tom Jones, Jim Croce and James Taylor. But two albums she also had—and got the most attention—were The Nutcracker and Jesus Christ Superstar. They enjoyed a ton of spins from all four of us children and to this day I get emotional listening to them. At the time they represented a liberating freedom from the stifling conformity of Sunday mass and a disciplinarian father who reared his children after his role models: Woody Hayes and Bobby Knight. Dad wanted athletes and cheerleaders—I wanted a father who wasn’t a drill sergeant.

Per mother’s request, I took piano lessons in the second grade and hated it: joyless instructor, boring classical pieces and stuffy recitals. But mom purchased Elton John’s Greatest Hits and I didn’t know playing piano could be so much fun. I obviously didn’t have the talent to play like him, but to listen to his joyful glissandos gave me fodder for trying.

My older brother Jim was the braintrust to our siblings’ exposure to new music. He brought home Chicago VI around 4th or 5th grade and we played it nonstop on our record player. Between the vocals, horn section, great guitar riffs and impeccable drumming, I was hooked. I still remember listening to “Feeling Stronger Every Day” for the very first time. Life changing.

Every few months Jim would bring home a new album and expose his sibs to its magic. The next to have such an impact was the debut Boston album. I remember hearing “More Than A Feeling” on the radio and was immediately struck by the acoustic guitar, vocals, harmony guitars & undulating drums. I was hooked from the first stanza. The album was every bit of that and more. ”Foreplay/Long Time” was the first song I ever heard that I considered an anthem.

Around the same time Jim brought home Led Zeppelin IV and that had a similar impact. Who doesn’t remember the first time they heard “Stairway to Heaven”? Every song on that album was a masterpiece.

The next album Jim brought home was Yessongs. It was a live album and too “out there” for my tastes and I didn’t understand the songs at all. Too garish for my tastes. But Q-FM-96 became our favorite radio station at the time and “Roundabout” was on steady rotation. I fell in love with this song and eventually talked Jim into buying Fragile. To this day there is nothing that moves me quite like Yes music. It remains its own genre.

As much as I loved the edgy guitar riffs and powerful drums of Zeppelin and Boston, I always tried to nurture a softer side with my musical tastes. One band that thoroughly watered my soil was Electric Light Orchestra. I remember buying A New World Record at the Ohio State fair and coming home to share the album with my family. It was the first time that I introduced an album to the family, so you can say it was my first official step into autonomy.

But everything changed in 1978. Jim came home from school one day and brought me into the living room. “Listen to this,” he said. He put on Side II of The Kids Are Alright and my music crush became an obsession. “Baba O’Riley” was the song he chose and I was dumbstruck: bass, drums, angry guitar chords and the masculine rage of Roger Daltrey’s vocals. From that day on, I followed The Who like a jealous stalker. I was not right in the head.

It’s hard to say which of the following albums impacted me the most after The Who: there are so many albums that resonated with me that it’s hard to select just one. I’d have to say my tenth pick is actually a toss-up between a host of albums, chief among them: Never Mind the Bollocks (The Sex Pistols); Hemispheres (Rush); Live at Leeds (The Who); Quadrophenia (The Who); Close to the Edge (Yes); Grand Illusion (Styx); Misplaced Childhood (Marillion); Van Halen I (Van Halen); The Wall (Pink Floyd) and Out of the Blue (ELO). These albums transformed my life in ways that I never recovered from, and this is why I still stubbornly pursue a music career well into my fifth decade.

Thanks for reading. Looking forward to others’ posts!