An L.A. story:
In college my punk roommate was named Joe. He now lives in Paris and is helping create some kind of scary Matrix-like Internet-within-the-Intenet. He isn't a punk anymore but still plays music.
joe cady sings and plays guitar real cool at the Galway.MOV - YouTube
He's the one who introduced me to Gentle Giant, so Joe is one of the Immortals in my life.
Joe also introduced me to another bassist who shall remained nameless. He was an experimental artist with an utterly unique approach. One of his bass lines defied all my bass teachers. I used to play it for bassists and tell them I'd give them $1000 if they could duplicate it. Nobody could even get the first note.
I always wanted to interview this bassist, but other projects kept materializing first. One day I was in a CD store on Sunset, and there he was! Right there. What an opportunity. I walked up to him and said, "Excuse me. Aren't you ______ _______?"
He whirled and almost went into a crouch. He's a huge man, and he'd gotten much fatter than when I first learned about him.
"What the f*ck do you want?" he snarled.
"I write for Bass Player magazine, and--"
"So what? F*ck off! Leave me alone! Get the f*ck outta here!"
The weird thing about him is he has this piping voice, like the actor Ed Burns. It doesn't match his massive frame at all. He also stank. His jeans had that brownish tinge you get from not washing them in years, and the long, stringy hair hanging out from under his bandanna was filthy. Even his leather jacket stank. He smelled like a musky animal, like one of those deformed Asian black bears. I imagined him living in a den, surrounded by bones and tufts of fur from his kills.
So, I left him alone. It took me years before I could listen to his music again. He is by no means whatsoever a celebrity. I'm sure he's never been swamped by screaming teenagers or paparazzi. I couldn't imagine why he'd be so hostile.
He eventually got a feature article in Bass Player. I didn't read it. He may actually be the nicest man in the world who was simply having a bad day. But first impressions are hard to erase, aren't they?
In college my punk roommate was named Joe. He now lives in Paris and is helping create some kind of scary Matrix-like Internet-within-the-Intenet. He isn't a punk anymore but still plays music.
joe cady sings and plays guitar real cool at the Galway.MOV - YouTube
He's the one who introduced me to Gentle Giant, so Joe is one of the Immortals in my life.
Joe also introduced me to another bassist who shall remained nameless. He was an experimental artist with an utterly unique approach. One of his bass lines defied all my bass teachers. I used to play it for bassists and tell them I'd give them $1000 if they could duplicate it. Nobody could even get the first note.
I always wanted to interview this bassist, but other projects kept materializing first. One day I was in a CD store on Sunset, and there he was! Right there. What an opportunity. I walked up to him and said, "Excuse me. Aren't you ______ _______?"
He whirled and almost went into a crouch. He's a huge man, and he'd gotten much fatter than when I first learned about him.
"What the f*ck do you want?" he snarled.
"I write for Bass Player magazine, and--"
"So what? F*ck off! Leave me alone! Get the f*ck outta here!"
The weird thing about him is he has this piping voice, like the actor Ed Burns. It doesn't match his massive frame at all. He also stank. His jeans had that brownish tinge you get from not washing them in years, and the long, stringy hair hanging out from under his bandanna was filthy. Even his leather jacket stank. He smelled like a musky animal, like one of those deformed Asian black bears. I imagined him living in a den, surrounded by bones and tufts of fur from his kills.
So, I left him alone. It took me years before I could listen to his music again. He is by no means whatsoever a celebrity. I'm sure he's never been swamped by screaming teenagers or paparazzi. I couldn't imagine why he'd be so hostile.
He eventually got a feature article in Bass Player. I didn't read it. He may actually be the nicest man in the world who was simply having a bad day. But first impressions are hard to erase, aren't they?

