What's Wrong With Steve?

Hey Steve

Hypothetical: It’s the mid-nineties. Jimmy Page*  and Les Claypool**  offer you the chance to join them to form the greatest supergroup power trio in the history of rock and/or roll. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity for you and a dream come true. However, taking the job means screwing over the other guys in the Crowes as well as your loyal and adoring fans to whom you mean so much.

What decision do you make?

How do you handle it?

Chuck in Atlanta

*  or Eric Clapton or “insert-your-favorite-living-guitarist-at-the-time here”

**  or John Entwistle or Phil Lesh or “insert-your-favorite-living-bassist-at-the-time- here”

Chuck

My mantra has always been, “Life Rewards Action”.  Therefore, I jump ship.

The decision takes four seconds.  One to decide, and three to act like I am struggling with it.

I handle it like I handle all major decisions in life – without a second thought and with absolutely no looking back.

Oh, and of course, I get on a conference call with the boys and say something heartfelt and sensitive like, “I’ll be taking my talents to the United Kingdom”.  I mean, who could have a problem with me saying something like that?

SG

Steve,

I was just watching an old clip of the band on You Tube performing “Hard to Handle” from 1990.

Here is the clip to give you a reference point:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VKy7kU5CG8w

Watching this clip, I can’t help but notice your cymbals are incredibly high above your head. I mean, really high up there! Almost as High as the Moon, to coin a phrase. Pun intended.

Why are your cymbals so much lower these days?

Cheers!

Doug

Doug

Well, that whole thing was one of a great number of side effects from having been born without elbows.  It made a lot of the “simple things” in life quite a challenge.  Thanks to corrective surgery in late 1991, I was able to bring those cymbals back down to earth where they remain quite comfortably to this day, thank you very much.

Wait…hold on.

Actually, that’s not true.  I was born with, and still have, two very active elbows.  The truth is…..well….I thought it looked cool.  Then, after a while, it dawned on me that instead of those cymbals looking cool way up there, they looked asinine and desperate.  (While we’re at it, let’s just ignore the hat, please)

As we all know, there’s a thin line between cool and forever embarrassing -  a line I hope never to walk again.

SG

Dear Mr. Gorman,

Long time listener and reader.:)

Ok, now that that is out of the way, I have a few questions about friendships and marriage:

I myself am married happily, but I know of two couples that are about to walk down the aisle and I am concerned for them.

1st couple- My hubby’s friend is the groom and recently we found out that he cheated on his fiancee once and is wanting to have an affair with someone else before he is married. (He doesn’t know that we know.)

I just want to know why do folks have this attitude that it is ok to do this before walking down the aisle?   It doesn’t absolve the fact that one has cheated just b/c they’ve already stuck a ring on right? Also, are you suppose to even say anything?  I mean I’m not that close to either one, but feel that it is not right to let them commit to a lie.

2nd couple- They are getting married in a year and I am the Matron of Honor. Well recently the groom to be was caught internet sexting and calling some old lady to have explicit conversations. Now they are going to counseling for this because my friend does love him and is going to give him a second chance, which I think is good.

Why would he consider this not cheating in the first place?

And also if I don’t feel comfortable still being Matron of Honor when the time comes is it worse for me to step down or be the best friend and stick beside her?

Sorry for all the crazy questions, but thank you in advance.

Perplexed in Tex

Perplexed in Tex

I appreciate your concern for these two couples, and I agree that there is plenty to be concerned about.  However, Perplexed, these are not YOUR concerns.

These people are in their own relationships in their own lives.  Good people make bad decisions, bad people make good decisions, good people make good decisions, bad people make bad decisions.  Shit happens.

Ignore the first situation entirely.  Should you say something?  Absolutely NOT.  Who told you that you were in charge of their happiness/misery?

There’s nothing to do there but make trouble, so butt out.

As for the second situation, if you are struggling with being the Matron of Honor, tell the bride to be how you feel as soon as possible.  It’s really the only way, because there’s no way in hell you’ll be able to go through the entire buildup to the big day without her figuring out that something is bugging you.  And then, about an hour before the wedding, it’ll happen.  She’ll press, and you’ll crack.  And by “crack”, I mean, you’ll explode.  It’ll be ugly.  Oh sure, you’ll feel relieved for a few seconds because you’ve gotten it off your chest, but that few seconds will give way to the rest of your life without your friend in it.   That’s just how this stuff goes.

I see it going down as follows:

Her: “You haven’t been yourself lately.  What’s wrong?”

You:  “Nothing.”

Her:  “No, honey, you can tell me….what is it?”

You:  “Nothing.  I am fine.  It’s your wedding day!  Don’t worry about me!”

Her:  “Are you sure?”

You:  “Of course, what could be wrong?”

Her:  “I don’t know – you just don’t seem right.”

You:  “Oh, you know, I am just so happy for you!  It’s such a beautiful dress and I remember how we always used to talk about getting married to the men of our dreams and it is just so special and I think about my wedding and how I always wanted you to find someone as wonderful as my husband and now here we are and YOU’RE MARRYING AN INTERNET PORN ADDICT WHO HAS PHONE SEX WITH OLD LADIES AND YOU COULD DO SO MUCH BETTER AND I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU’RE MAKING ME STAND NEXT TO YOU WHILE YOU THROW YOUR LIFE DOWN THE TOILET WITH THIS CREEP WHO WILL PROBABLY SPEND THE HONEYMOON WRACKING UP A THOUSAND DOLLARS IN ROAMING CHARGES TALKING TO SOME METH-HEAD IN ABILENE THAT’S PRETENDING TO BE A NUN!”

And really, who wants that to happen?

So, clear the air up front.  Respectfully tell her your concerns and feelings, and let her know that you understand completely if she wants to change course and ask someone else to stand with her.  Maybe she will take that suggestion.  Maybe she will respect your honesty so much that she will want you up there with her more than ever.  Who knows?

Of course, you gals are in Texas, right?  She might just haul off and shoot you.  I imagine you’re packing too, so you’d probably get a shot or two in there.

Man, just imagine – a real live lady gunfight over this whole thing.  Crazy.

Tell you what – don’t say a word.  Put on that bridesmaid dress, smile for the camera, dance with your husband, have a drink, lay low.

Because, like I always say, life’s too short to get shot by your best friend over internet porn and meth-head phone sex.

SG

Hey Steve,

I live in Atlanta, but didn’t move here till the beginning of this last decade.

Even though it’s the Crowes’ former stomping grounds, I can find close to no remnants of you fellas here, save for a sticker of the old logo on a bathroom wall somewhere in Little 5 Points and a snapshot of a unenthusiastic Chris in the Silver Skillet on 14th street.

Are there any landmarks of interesting Crowes history that I should be aware of?

And please, if all possible, avoid playing at Chastain Park again. I got a bud who gets lost in the horse stables every time we go.

Alex in Atlanta

Alex

I am sure you’ve noticed that we’re playing the Tabernacle this time around.  I can’t stand the thought of your friend suffering the indignity of another night spent lost in the stables, so I’ve taken action.  You’re welcome.

As for remnants of us in our old stomping grounds, there are still a few to see if you know where to look.

Here are a few suggestions:

You can take the MARTA to Candler Park and see the house where Chris, Sven, our friend Clint, and I lived in 1987.  When you get off the train, take the escalator down on the Candler Park side and walk in a straight line out of the parking lot.  Cross the street and you’ll literally walk right into our old front door, at 292 Oakdale Road.

Mr. Crowes Garden (Chris, Rich, and some other dudes) and Mary My Hope (Sven, Clint, me, and another dude) both used the middle room of the house as a rehearsal space.  I don’t think we mentioned to the landlord as we were moving in that we were planning to rehearse there, but you know how those things go.  We packed about ten years of excitement into less than twelve actual months of living there.

Four people paid rent, $112.50 each per month, and about 10 other people crashed there on a regular basis.

Trust me that the house you see today bears little resemblance to the shit hole that we evacuated in the fall of ‘87.   Someone put a lot of time, money, and effort into turning that dump around, I assure you.

In those days, we hung out at the Dugout on Oxford Road in Emory Village.  It was the best music club in town for a brief spell in the spring of ‘87 but that era ended when the place got shut down for serving alcohol to minors.  As the doorman of the establishment, I plead the 5th as to how that sort of thing might have happened.  The Dugout is now, and has been for many years, a bookstore.  If you go there, just picture me in the front doorway aggressively denying entry to each and every Emory frat boy that approached, while at the same time happily allowing any girl who looked at least 16 (fake ID complete with 1966 birthdate or not) to enter with a nonchalant wave of my hand.

You could swing by Wax n Facts in Little 5 Points, where I “worked” after the Dugout closed but more importantly, where Chris and I would regularly loiter for hours and hours arguing over which Nick Drake record was the best and strategizing about where we could find free beer on any given night.

Around the corner from there is the North High Ridge apartment complex, where Chris and I lived for about 6 months after the Oakdale house fell apart.  In that time span, not one utility bill was paid on time or in full.  Good times.

You can check out Piedmont Park, where we played the Pot Festival in 1992.  That was a good day.  We played on a stage at the bottom of the hill off of 10th Street, close to the Piedmont Avenue side.  There were about six hundred million people there, or so it seemed, and I remember thinking very clearly during that show that we were pretty badass.  I later lived in that neighborhood for five years and walked my dog there every day, so the park has a lot of great memories for me.

Finally (because if I don’t stop now, this answer will turn into a book and I am not planning on writing that until next year) you can go to the corner of Mount Paran Road and Jett Road in Northwest Atlanta.  On the NW corner of this intersection, you’ll see the house that Chris bought after the first tour and where, in the garage, we put together the songs that became SHAMC.

Across the street, on the SE corner, you’ll find the house where, four years later, we recorded TSAOC.  That’s another house we rented without telling the landlords what we were doing.  To this day, I doubt seriously that whoever owns that house has any idea that an album was made there.

Okay, that’s enough of a jog down memory lane for today.

When you have checked these spots off your list, and paid proper homage at each, let me know and I’ll come up with some more.

SG

Steve,

I’m the oldest of three.  I’m 40 now and was a natural type of athlete – meaning I was pretty good at everything.  My younger brother could have been good, but my dad – I’m guessing he thought of me as his “meal ticket” spent more time with me and my development and not my brother.

Well fast forward 25 years and my brother is an accomplished athlete.  He participates in Ironman events, runs marathons, dates models, lives in Manhattan, works on Madison Avenue.  Me, I coach PeeWee baseball, eat too much, and the only model I ever nailed was a plus sizer.

I’m getting sick and freakin’ assed tired of my wife swooning over “Uncle Casey”.  Every year we have a family reunion where all he does is walk around with his shirt off looking like McConaughey, doing double flips off the low dive, and all of the kids think he’s the coolest guy on earth.  My wife takes 4 gig of pictures every afternoon and “Facebooks” them to all of her middle-aged friends every afternoon.  You put us together and its a true “Before” and “After” type picture.

At the same reunion, there’s also a 5k “race” – he pesters the crap out of me to do it each year.  I hate every second of my 36:28 minute run, I’m sucking wind like “Meatloaf” in ‘78 and I’m producing enough gravy to feed the homeless in Haiti.

We both were high school wrestlers, and because I’m in his head I can still beat him.  Do I just whoop his ass to prove to everyone that I’m still the man? Or do I just put my arms up and say “you win”

Brad

Brad

Stop kidding yourself.  You are no more in his head that you are in mine.

Trust me – as a younger brother who rocketed past his older siblings many, many years ago, I assure you that Casey is breathing a rarified air that the likes of you can only pretend to imagine.

There’s no point in throwing your ams up and saying “you win”, because, Brad, you already say that loud and clear on a daily basis with your ho-hum existence.

Sorry, dude.

Of course, I could be wrong.  Maybe you are still in his head.  Maybe his many accomplishments leave him feeling empty inside because he is motivated not to be the best that he can be, but to show himself that he is better than you.  Maybe he sees the real value in coaching PeeWee baseball, but can’t bring himself to consider giving his time and energies so selflessly.  Maybe Casey is actually a real jerk.  Maybe he’s really enjoying your middle aged angst, even though it subconsciously fuels his own lack of self respect.   Hmm…….on second thought,  why don’t you think about beating him over the head with a folding metal chair the next time you are at a family function?   Beat him down like there’s no tomorrow.  I mean, make him your personal pinata…don’t let up until his body is convulsing.  Then, calmly take a picture of him laying in his own pool of blood and walk across the room to your stunned wife and scream, “Here’s a nice shot for your Facebook page, Sweetheart!  Doesn’t he look great in red?”

Maybe that’ll help.

But, wait….no, I think I was right the first time.  Casey sounds like THE MAN.  I’d love to meet him sometime.

Again, sorry, dude.

SG

Dear Steve-

I have this sadness. It started after reading a press release from my favorite band. After 20 years they are going on an INDEFINITE HIATUS. This brings such sadness to me. I totally understand after twenty years of being away from loved ones . I appreciate all you, the band, your families, and the crew have done to bring us your music – my soul food.

So, I thank you and the rest of the gentlemen in the band from the bottom of my heart for  giving the one thing in my life that is mine.  Going to a Black Crowes show and losing myself in dance and leaving this planet for a while.

Besides giving birth to my two children, going to a Black Crowes shows is the best thing I have done. I get to shut my eyes and off I go!

Thank you!  Thank you!  Thank you!

See you soon

Erika

Erika

Thank you from the bottom of our hearts!  It’s been an honor and a pleasure, and will continue to be so throughout the year.

Best,

SG

Dear Steve,

I’m hoping you can use your wisdom and extensive life experiences to shed some light on the economy.

Is the “Great Recession” finally drawing to a close?  I’m trying to be optimistic about some of the good economic indicators that have been coming out, but my father is convinced that we’re headed for a major double dip and is calling and nagging me that I should start hoarding canned goods and learning how to make my own ammo.

So please, tell me he’s wrong.

Or, tell me how many cans of creamed corn it will take to get me through the apocalypse.

Kind Regards,

A Daughter

A. D.

Sorry, kiddo, but Pops is on the money with this one.  Or, on the lack of money with this one, I should say.

To be safe, I’d go with one can of creamed corn for for every member of Congress since 1980, and two cans for everyone who’s ever drawn a paycheck on Wall Street.

You can splurge on a can of niblets for each President since FDR, and remember to add a dash of pepper for those that were Democrats.

And please – go with an old school, hand crank can opener.  Electricity’s days are also surely numbered.

SG

Hi Steve,

First, NICE job on the ‘Live at the Greek’ CD.

I’m wondering what your process was to prepare for playing Zep tunes with Page?

Did he have any suggestions for you after your started rehearsing with him?

Secondary (but related), what’s his ‘feel’ like?  Does he tend to lay back in respect to the beat?  Right on?  Ahead?

Thanks,

Chris

Chris

Thanks for the props.

My process?  It wasn’t an exact science, believe me.  I seem to recall simply listening to the songs over and over and drinking a lot of beer.  My drunken confidence carried me through any of the rough patches in rehearsals and by the time we were out playing publicly, I had deluded myself to the point of feeling pretty damned good about what I was doing.

Mr. Page never gave me any specific suggestions.  (Well, none that I remember, anyway – see previous paragraph.)

What’s his feel like?  Back?  Ahead?  Right on?  Hell, I don’t know.  I never thought about it like that.  It just always felt like Jimmy Page.  I am not trying to be funny.  Think about that for a sec.  It felt JUST like playing with Jimmy Page.

And that, Chris, was awesome.

SG

Dear Steve,

I’ve been a drummer now for 15 years.  Started playing when I was 8.  I loved back in ‘05 when you had the Bohnam Vistalite reissue and the sound you got on it.

My question is – have you ever tried the Ludwig solid stainless steel kit? Much like the Vistalite, Bohnam used this kit live from ‘77-’80 and it sounded killer.  I got myself a 13×9 tom and have gigged with a few times and it sounds killer.  Wondering if you ever had tried one or heard of them?

Also, do you think the Cubs will actually win the world series this year?  Let me know your prediction.

Thanks,

Will

Will

Yeah, I loved touring with that Vistalite kit, too.  It’s not the easiest kit to make sound good, but when it is dialed in, it smokes.

And yes, I know all about the stainless steel kit as I have one of those bad boys myself.  It’s the most thunderous kit I’ve ever heard, and it’s my all-time favorite.   If that kit were a movie, it’d be the “Guns of Navarone”.

I can’t gig with it though, because my band has this whole bizarre concept of not having the drums be the loudest part of the mix.  Can you believe that shit?  Unreal.  But, I am a team player,  so I do my best to help “blend” into the collective vibe.  Whatever.

I do not, sorry to say, think that the Cubs will win the World Series this year.  Or next year.  Or the year after that.  In fact, I’d go so far as to say that you’d probably see John Bonham pull a Lazarus and hop back onto his Vistalites before you see your Cubbies hoist the Commissioner’s Trophy over their heads.

That’s just life.  (For a Cubs fan.)

SG

Steve,

Why do you have to be so damned entertaining?  I’m supposed to be studying for my business law test tomorrow morning at 7am (its 2am now!) and instead i’ve spent my time reading your words of wisdom.  Hell, i think i’ve learned more from you than studying my material.

Anyway, i also wanted to let you know that I spent the earlier half of my day mixing a few of my songs and have been using your drum sound on Under A Mountain as a reference. Its an absolutely phenomenal sound.

That is all.

Kevin

Kevin

Thanks.  I am glad my schtick is working for you.  It’s a simple story as to why- years ago, the band all drew straws to determine how we would each present ourselves publicly.  As luck would have it, I drew the straw marked “damned entertaining”, and have been doing my best to live up to it ever since.

The drum sound on “Under a Mountain” is a favorite of mine, too.  I’d tell you all about how we got that sound, but I don’t remember a single thing about the making of that album other than on Sunday nights we would stop working to watch The Beatles documentary on ABC.

(That’s not meant to be entertaining – that’s the straight up truth.)

SG