I know that this is the section of the site where you can learn a little about me. I probably should have gotten someone else to write it, ’cause then they could pump it up and make my past seem really cool. I mean does anybody really care that I was raised in a small farming town in Ohio? I doubt it, but here we go. I’ll try to make all of this as painless as possible.
Yeah, that little town is known as Washington Court House. I could have very easily become the owner of the local JOHN DEERE dealership, or maybe even the night manager at the meat packing plant. I must admit though, there was talk within the family of me taking over my grandfather’s barber shop. If it hadn’t been for my friend Larry, I might be sweeping hair today. Larry was nobody special, just a kid that owned a drum set. A beautiful set of silver sparkle Rogers. He could really play too………I think. He snuck me into a teen dance one evening at the American Legion hall (Post 25), and I heard for the first time, a real live band. From then on I knew my grandfather would have to find someone else.
I guess the year was 1963 when I got my first set of red sparkle drums, straight out of the Sears catalog, $119.95. I played them continuously, and my mother, rest her soul, was very supportive, ’cause she said when she heard the drums she always knew where I was. It wasn’t long after that that I had a band playing cake walks and birthday parties. It was a wonderful thing for an eleven-year-old who couldn’t hit a round ball with a round bat.
There was never any music in the house except for a radio on top of the fridge. I think my dad won it from selling a lot of shock absorbers or something. Elvis was always good for a tune or two in between the hog market report and the local news. I do remember my older sister getting a real record player (that I wasn’t allowed to touch) and falling asleep to Henry Mancini. I thought it was square then — boy, was I mistaken.
In the late sixties, when the San Francisco bands took over the world and guitars were screaming, so were my hormones. I was graduating from high school, playing in real rock bands, making a few bucks a night. Life was good.
It wasn’t until the late seventies that the drumming world took a turn in my favor. I moved to Charlotte, North Carolina, and took a gig in a studio as the house drummer. It was great. I was actually making records with people that I had heard on the radio. I was doing three sessions a day most days and really burning myself out. I hung in there though because I knew it wouldn’t last forever.
During this period I was offered a small record deal to make my first solo record. It was a cool little record that, of course, didn’t sell much, but critics and radio people loved it. LION SONG was a cool mix of Jazz, Brazilian, and African styles. Nobody was doing that kind of thing then.
Shortly before that record came out, I was playing on a session for The Glenn Miller Orchestra. Someone at the label had the bright idea that they should record modern Pop tunes in the style of that band’s heyday. Don’t shoot me, I’m only the conga drummer. Mel Lewis was the drummer on that session. He heard my little record and fell in love with it. He was on the phone the next day getting me interviews and radio spots. My first MODERN DRUMMER spread came about because of him.
About a year later, I got this record deal with this label in LA and made this record called Pasajes. Another one of my tripped-out artsy recordings. Mel played drums on a good deal of the record. We even recorded a duet. We got it in one take because the spirit was flying around the room. Mel and I were very close. The memories of the two of us boppin’ around New York are held in a special place in my heart. He died not long after the record came out.
In the early eighties, there was a style of music called NEW AGE that was getting cranked up. Some people with WINDHAM HILL Records contacted me and got me involved with that whole movement. The bean sprout circuit kept me humpin’ for about eight years or so. I could write a book on those days, but all I will say here is that when the world lost Michael Hedges, the world lost a real treasure.
When that page of my life turned, I was ready to make records again. For myself, that is. Mickey Hart had just left Reference Recordings, an audiophile label out of San Francisco, and went over to RYCO. I think they sorta wanted me to fill his slot. I was originally supposed to make a percussion record, but they heard some of the Jazz stuff I was toying with and decided to go that route. That’s how TROPIC AFFAIR came into being.
I wanted to make a record that was a little more accessible to a wider range of people. I figured that up till now I was spelling art with a capital F, so why not just make a good record? That record was very successful in many ways. It made the top ten in Jazz radio and was nominated for Independent Jazz Record of the Year in 1990.
The band I had at this time I called the MONTUNO JAZZ ORCHESTRA. It was a great band. I really miss that band. I recorded a live record with them on my own called WHAT IS…WHAT WAS…. It somehow got into the Grammys in 1991 under “Best Contemporary Jazz Recording,” but a guy by the name of GRUSIN won that year.
In 1993 I teamed up with guitarist VAN MANAKAS and recorded LETTERS FROM THE EQUATOR. A really good record, I might add. A tremendous amount of fire and beauty.
As I sit here and write this bio (which, by the way, I know is waaaaay too long, but I can’t help it), I am realizing that I must be rather confusing to some people. All the time that I am making these kinds of Jazz records, I’m making these POP records and touring with other artists. Good music is good music, and genre has never mattered to me. My knowledge of world music seems to creep into all that I do. That’s a valve that I just can’t seem to shut off, or care to shut off. It seems to work for me.
During the seven years that I spent with Janis Ian, I was able to weasel in a lot of that kind of thing. It worked well with her way of thinking. The Grammy-nominated BREAKING SILENCE album is a great example, not to mention fourteen years of DON DIXON-produced projects. I recall a review on a record I did for RCA. It was ANY KIND OF LIE by MARTI JONES. I had invented a lot of percussion instruments and sounds for that record, and the reviewer said that he liked the use of the synthesizers. Give me a break!!
WOW! I can’t believe that I have rambled on this long. I’m sure that this bio will soon be replaced with a more BIZ-oriented style. Too bad I can’t get into road stories. I had fun doing this. I don’t think about the past much. I’m too busy workin’ on the future.
See you out there, and HERE’S TO YOU MEL.
JB