Ramble on

I experienced an amazing Pink Floyd cover of “Us and Them” by a friend’s band on their YouTube channel. After the video was over, the algorithm promptly guided me through a broad landscape of “classic” rock music videos which gave way to an hour-long binge on Spotify, listening to the music that defined my adolescence.

I started playing drums in the 80’s in my parents garage at the age of 14. My dad graciously dropped $250 on a Gretsch 4 piece set at the Sears discount store a few miles from where we lived. I begged my dad for weeks and eventually he gave in. I was in love with my drums. I sat behind them for days and nights until my fingers bled. I played along to some of my most favorite bands and drummers. Cream, Floyd, The Who, Hendrix, The Doors and Led Zeppelin all blaring out of the cassette player on my Realistic boom box while I stumbled through the progressions, trying to find the rhythm, timing and precision that I was hearing from my idols. I was a novice to these giants of rock, but I knew I could keep up if I practiced. I spent a good part of my teens hammering on my beloved drum set in that dingy garage.

Led Zeppelin was at the core of this story and John Bonham was the storyteller. When I first heard Zeppelin’s music, I remember being offended by their raw, gritty sound. I was scared by the onslaught of relentless percussion, twisted guitar and howling vocal. But I was also incredibly curious. How did Page create these sounds with a guitar? What was Plant singing and should his words mean something to me? Why am I uncontrollably moving to Bonham’s beat?

“If it keeps on raining, levee’s gonna break. When the levee breaks, have no place to stay.”

I wanted to understand John Bonham’s drumming. The solution was to dedicate more time to what he was teaching me. I spent hours in that garage with John as company, finding immense gratification playing to the music of banner hits like “Immigrant song”, “Good times bad times”, "Kashmir" and “Whole lotta love“. It was transcendent. I would close my eyes and believe I was him. I felt that Bonham was personally telling me something I needed to hear. Through my Radioshack headphones he fed my ears with peace, violence and a broad indifference to everything around me. It was rock music. It was soul, it was heavy blues, it was jazz, it was disco. It was magnetic, organic and fierce. It was controlled chaos in the form of heavy, bass driven percussion. All of these sounds swirling on repeat, blasting into my head and heart. It was like a whirling dervish let loose and I was being taught lessons about myself and my life path. John was leading me all the way.

I remember one particular session around the age of 16 in the stale dust of that garage. I had just finished a successful run at “Ramble on”. I remember breathing heavy, wiping the sweat and blood and heat off of my skinny body when I had a moment of self awareness. In that silence I realized that I too could give back the pure joy that I was experiencing. I wanted to perform for people and reveal to them whatever sound I had to offer. It was in this moment that I realized I wanted to be like John Bonham. I wanted to be a rockstar.

“Ramble on. And now's the time, the time is now. To sing my song. I'm goin' 'round the world, I got to find my girl.”

Over the years that followed I set intention to live my life as an artist. Through the magical years in my band Mother’s Garden and the complicated world of the Philadelphia indie core scene, to the reckless and enlightened electronic sounds of San Francisco all the way to the deep desert culture of Black Rock City and now, my humble home recording studio where I spend hours, alone with my music — Just the way I want it to be. Many successes, many failures, so many questions not answered and a heart full of memories.

Here’s to Led Zeppelin and John Bonham for opening a few doors of perception for me. Long live the kings of Rock and Roll.