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Ever been starstruck? Met some hero of yours that just rattled you to your bones?
Working on Austin City Limits I had to quickly learn to get past that. Gear needed to be set up, and really, we needed to interact with these folks meaningfully. Fawning would have done no one any favors. Professionalism was the goal.
A couple times, though, I couldn't help it. Taj Mahal, a journeyman blues musician, caused one episode quite unexpectedly. His band was on stage, running through a soundcheck. I was handing out setlists to the band members. I walked up to, uh, Mr. Mahal, who was seated at a keyboard. I merely asked him if he needed a setlist.
He stopped what he was doing, turned to face me and asked, "What?" Not sure what the inflection was... surprise? Bemusement?
I asked him again, and he seemed to chuckle a little. "No, thanks. I don't need a setlist."
And suddenly I felt like I was six inches tall. Here he was, a real blues man, addressing a young cracker who loved blues yet was worlds removed from his talent and experience. Not sure I can even explain it.
I was rendered speechless as I walked away.
And I don't even have any of his CDs.
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Meeting BB King was huge, but in a different way. Rule #1 while working there was not to bug the talent for autographs while on the clock.
But there's only one BB King, not that anyone would have cared for my justification. I approached him and a companion seated at a table during the extensive preparations for the Tribute to Stevie Ray Vaughan shows. I wasn't starstruck so much as grateful for the chance to speak to the man for even a moment. Our exchange wasn't meaningful--I just asked for an autograph. Jeopardized my job by doing so, and it was worth it.
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Ray Charles was the other who really starstruck me, but I had no interactions with the man as we were taping Willie Nelson: The Big Six-0. I merely watched from under the bleachers, transfixed, as he was led to the stage. I believe he and Willie did "Seven Spanish Angels." And I've tried to say this before, but I'm not sure it gets the message across: It was like watching a ghost. He just didn't seem real somehow. I swear he seemed like he glowed or something. I'm sure his shiny jacket had something to do with it, but I kept staring at him, unable to put my finger on just why he seemed so... unearthly.
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Ever been starstruck? I made a fool out of myself with a guest or two, and God knows plenty of them were assholes to everyone around for no particular reason.
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For my hobby as a music writer I've interviewed a few of my heroes, and I don't like it. It's really easy to think of what you'd ask someone you admire until it's your turn to step to the plate. Largely the folks I've interviewed have been kind at least. I can't recall that anyone was particularly obnoxious, though Anders Parker seemed pretty disinterested the first time we spoke.
I'm just no good at that.
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Ever asked one of these folks a decent question? I think the best I ever did was during a web chat with Jerry Stahl (author of Permanent Midnight and I, Fatty, as well as a contributing writer for CSI). I asked if he'd ever used his writing to lend an order to things that in real life had no discernible order at the time. He said it was a good question and gave a good answer (basically, yes he had, since we all know that meaning and sequences are often beyond our perspective while we're living them).
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Rangers lost 3-2 last night, but Ryan Drese looked good. I hope he was no flash in the pan last season. He induced ground balls and had good movement on his pitches. Basically he just lost because there's almost no way to pitch around Vlad Guerrero, who isn't made of the same stuff you and I are. I'm sure they miss him back on Krypton.
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Wednesday... keep walking...
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2 comments:
You know, I've interviewed plenty of musicians over the years who I admire greatly, but I can't remember a time I was ever starstruck. The closest I can think of was when I interviewed Richard Thompson by phone around 1992 or so. I was, and still am, a HUGE Thompson fan and I was nervous as hell when it was my turn. I came really close to freezing up just at the prospect that I was about to talk to the man who wrote the albums Shoot Out the Lights and Daring Adventures, two records that still have a pervading influence on what I think constitutes a good record. He came on the line and I was nervous and shaky and started to babble about how honored I was etc. He gently reminded me that he only had 15 minutes to talk to me and that we should plunge right into it. He was absolutely correct, and I went right to my list of questions, having been forced to leave my stage fright behind.
And I haven't really been starstruck ever since. I've done enough interviews since to know that so-called "stars," whether they're big names or people with loyal cult followings, are just people like everyone else, and most of them are so nice that they immediately blow any pretension out of the water. Rick Wakeman of Yes is probably the biggest star I've ever talked to, and he was also probably the nicest. Hell, I've met Ian MacLagan a couple of times; this is a guy who was in the Small Faces in the 60s and the Faces in the 70s, two hugely influential bands, and who's made a living since playing with everybody from the Rolling Stones to Billy Bragg. You'd think my knees would quake just being in his presence. But he's always been a very friendly, down-to-earth chap, so it's impossible to get nervous.
On another note, during SXSW I went to the Brian Wilson/Smile panel, where the man himself was present. Now, I like Smile, but I don't think of it as the be-all/end-all of pop music. So I was the only person in the room not quaking with awe. Some of the questions asked by both 20-year-olds and 40/50-plussers were embarassing hero worship blowjobs, and the whole time I was thinking about how much better I like his 1988 self-titled solo album than Smile. So being starstruck is in the mind of the beholder as much as anything; if the accomplishments don't mean much to you, you're not gonna care enough to be nervous, right?
Having said that, I think if during his time at Austin City Limits I'd been introduced to John Fogerty, a man I've literally been listening to since I was in the crib, a man whose music is as ingrained in me as liking apples, I'd have probably gone catatonic.
Michael
On the non-musical front, I met Dennis Miller, Dana Carvey, Jon Lovitz, and Kevin Nealon at the Music Hall in Houston in 1987. The first three were fairly cordial, but Nealon was GREAT - he stood around and talked with me and my date for 10 to 15 minutes and was just cool as could be.
Although I was never a big fan, I met Hothouse Flowers after their show at Numbers in Houston - very nice guys.
Two regional bands that I loved for a long time, Dash Rip Rock and The Reivers, were both incredibly cool. The Reivers were just normal folks (I can still hear John Croslin yelling across the room "Hey Bruiser, ya wanna beer!").
As for being truly starstruck, Rick Nielsen of Cheap Trick ranks pretty high - and I've never met the guy. I saw them at Numbers and during "C'mon C'mon", Nielsen sees me singing along. He walks over to where I was standing, lowers his shades, and flicks a pick at me. The pick bounces off my chest and lands in my hand. I look up at Nielsen, he grins and gives me the thumb up. Bitchin'.
I also was able to shake Siouxsie's hand.
Bruiser
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