How I Got Here: Brady Rymer (The Grateful Dead's Steal Your Face)

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Musician Brady Rymer is known for his positive attitude and for heading up Brady Rymer and the Little Band That Could, one of the best live bands in kindie.  Oh, and in a former (and occasionally) current life, playing with the band From Good Homes.

The GRAMMY-nominated Rymer and his Little Band That Could have just released their latest album Just Say Hi!, but in this latest installment of "How I Got Here," Rymer goes back nearly 40 years to talk about an album important to his musical development, the Grateful Dead's double live album Steal Your Face.


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I bought Steal Your Face at the Rockaway Mall in Rockaway, New Jersey, in 1978, the summer before 8th grade; I was 14.

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Steal Your Face is a 1976 double album of live recordings from The Dead's Wall of Sound/Farewell to Winterland tour. They carried around a huge sound system, designed by the band and top engineers, and recorded crystal clear sound for the time. The album has gotten very mixed reviews -- mostly not good -- and even the band didn’t like it all that much, but it was the first Dead album I bought with my own money.  Plus, I loved that cool red, white and blue skull on the cover.

The first time I listened to the album in my basement, it sounded very strange. I couldn’t figure it out, but I still related to it on a gut level. It sounded so different than David Bowie's Ziggy Stardust, or Neil Young's After the Gold Rush, or Kiss Alive, or Fleetwood Mac's Rumours, or anything I ever heard on Top 40 radio. It was the first time I was so intrigued by what I heard that I picked up my guitar and tried to figure out how they were doing it. I didn’t know where to begin. It didn’t even sound like they were playing chords; it was more like each song was a jigsaw puzzle with all of its pieces scattered. Slowly, I started to put it together.

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The band was a simple combo. Similar to other rock ‘n’ roll or rhythm & blues bands, it consisted of two guitars, piano, bass, two drummers (I always loved that!) and lots of singing. But the music came across like a Cubist painting – the picture broken up into pieces, parts here, other elements over there, counter melodies. Everyone not playing the same way at the same time, and going in different directions. The underpinning percolating and chaotic at times, relaxed at other times – but still holding together somehow, in some way, and sounding like a song. And all with this happy, feel-good groove and spirit that I could feel was similar to the records and artists I knew – Chuck Berry, Elvis, the Rolling Stones, The Jackson Five, Stevie Wonder, the Beatles.

As I worked on playing the music on my guitar, to see how they created this magic, I realized it was actually simple – and then again, not so simple.  Mostly, they were playing chords and progressions I knew, but they were doing it in such a different kind of way:  not playing the whole chords, or plucking notes or little melodies in between strums, changing their parts – leaving space, playing alternative notes, but mostly what I heard was a monster of a band playing together – this organic growing, moving thing – alive in the moment. That was thrilling.

I fell in love with a few things.

  • Jerry Garcia.  His voice and guitar playing was so beautiful.  So soulful, laid back at times, on fire at times.  I could hear rock ‘n’ roll, rhythm & blues and gospel all rolled into one.
  • Bob Weir's rhythm guitar playing.  I am a rhythm guitar player; back then I was just learning about rhythm guitar’s role in a band.  Bob played such cool variations and voicings of the chords, adding in little counter-melodies to his rhythm, adding spaces to let the other instruments peek through; all the while acting as the bonding glue between the lead guitar, bass and drums. His rhythm guitar lived right in the middle of the overall sound, adding very colorful parts but still holding it all together, creative and integral.
  • The songs. Their originals were a combination of rock ‘n’ roll, country, gospel, rhythm & blues, jugband. I didn’t really know all of these strains of music when I first listened to Steal Your Face, but the Dead led me back to all of those treasures: Hank Williams, Chuck Berry, Howlin’ Wolf, Elizabeth Cotton, gospel music; really, all American roots music. And their lyrics were poetic, impressionistic; filled with images and cool scenes, rich language and mysterious characters. The words worked perfectly with the music.  What I didn’t realize until now is how many cover songs are on the album: songs by Johnny Cash, Jesse Fuller, Chuck Berry, traditional American songs. Wonderful musical markers of our past which are hard to come by as a kid, and markers which inevitably lead further down the trail of wonderful musical discoveries.

After that album, my bandmates and I started playing more Dead and trying to improvise, as they did. This led us to writing our own songs and developing a sound of our own; something that felt good, natural and honest. The sound was laid back but still rockin'. We began listening to each other and playing off each other instead of just churning through learned parts. We learned how to trust the song, trust each other and let the song go, grow and move where it wanted to take us.  As we learned the music never played out the same way twice, it became very exciting, and addicting, to revisit the material night after night.

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Who would have guessed that about two decades later, three of us from that original garage band who learned how to play from listening to Dead records would get the opportunity to tour with The Dead’s Bob Weir (as the band From Good Homes). We got to see him work – how he structured his shows, sculpted his sound.  We asked about songs; he told some amazing Grateful Dead stories, but the most memorable things for me was when I asked him how he’s been doing this for so long. What has kept him going, I asked.  He immediately replied – by having fun!  The Dead always approached the music with the attitude, “it has to be fun or we ain’t gonna do it!”

It became so clear to me: that’s exactly what I was hearing and responding to in the music. The joy, the togetherness. It’s what I loved about playing music and being in a band, and it’s what we just naturally did.  And it’s been the kind of music I’ve been consistently drawn to – gospel, bluegrass, rhythm & blues, rock n roll – the kind of music that’s full of joy or a strong spirit – where there seems to be some kind of something important going down – some kind of gathering of the spirits – an uplifting experience – a higher purpose.

I don’t listen to The Dead much these days, but every spring or early summer I get a craving to hear some of their live concerts; the shows from the years when I was seeing them perform. Listening, I’m reminded of the power and effect that a rock band can have. Their incredibly nimble, colorful sound washing over me; this group of 6 players with traditional instruments, playing a smorgasbord of traditional American/modern music, creating a wall of sound all their own, something that gets thousands of people moving and shaking together as one. Getting out of the way of the music, letting it lead the way. I always was amazed by that, and loved the feeling of being in the audience and experiencing that collective joy. Like going on a thrilling amusement ride together. Whenever I’m on the stage I guess that’s one of the things I strive for – that connection with the music and the audience.  Kind of like a ping pong match; giving music to audience members, then giving energy back to the band and so forth until we’re all eventually moving as one, feeling good and trusting that the music will take us on an uplifting and fun journey. An amazing thing to create for just a few people with guitars, piano and drums!

So yeah, this not-so-loved, certainly not best Grateful Dead album, Steal Your Face, made me want to be in a band and play music for a lifetime. It started me down roads of musical discovery which I’m still traveling today. It showed me how music of all genres can span, reach and stretch out across all generations, and be dusted off and reinterpreted at any time, at any moment, in any way. And it showed how a band can have all different types of music that inspire them thrown into one big bubblin’ stew of songs. That still sounds pretty good to me.

Photo Credits: Brady Rymer: Jayme Thornton; From Good Homes: Vic Guadagno

How I Got Here: Joanie Leeds (Jonatha Brooke: Plumb)

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I'll be honest -- when I asked New York City musician Joanie Leeds to write a "How I Got Here" piece on I was half-expecting something about Phish, whom Leeds has traveled further to see than I've ever traveled to see a band.

But since the series is about albums that influenced kindie musicians as musicians, the line from jamband to crafter of poppy melodies for kids is unclear, and, sure enough, Leeds' submission was far afield from Phish -- it's Jonatha Brooke's 1995 album Plumb.

Leeds is releasing her sixth album for families, Good Egg, this week, but even with a full schedule of album release activities, she still took the time to writeabout how Brooke's production, music, and lyric, especially on that 1995 album, inspired Leeds early in her career... and how their paths eventually crossed.


Ever since I was little, I grew up listening to 105.9, the Classic Rock station in Miami, Florida. To this day, when I’m on tour and pass a classic rock channel in a new city, I can’t help but tune in and listen to that gritty goodness. The screeching voices of AC/DC, the vocal range on Robert Plant, and Eric Clapton’s complex guitar solos make me feel empowered.

In 10th grade when I started learning to play the guitar, I noticed the lack of female-led bands in my music of choice and in wanting to find music that sounded more like my own voice so I could strum along, I turned to strong female singer/songwriters like Tori Amos, Joni Mitchell, Sheryl Crow, Ani DiFranco, Paula Cole, The Indigo Girls, Alanis Morisette and Shawn Colvin. These ladies got me through high school but when I went to college and started writing my own original music, my heart skipped a beat when I first laid ears on Jonatha Brooke. 

Most would categorize Jonatha as a folk-rock singer, but truth be told she jumps from genre to genre on every CD she releases. The CD that changed my life as a songwriter was Plumb. From the moment those drums pounded and guitars strummed on the "Nothing Sacred" intro and her powerful soprano, shrilly but soothing, weaved in and out through the octaves effortlessly, I was hooked. The pad on the background voices was so impressive. I always wondered, “did she come up with that on her own or did the producer? It’s SO brilliant.” Then came in “Where Where You” with it’s rockin’ country flair loaded with hooks, harmonies and rhythmic delicacies a la Bonnie Raitt. Her lyrics spoke to me and I knew that my own songwriting needed to come a long way until I would be satisfied. It would be years before I started writing music for children but I was leaning the ropes, the songwriting tools that would catapult my creative juices and soul. 

At the time, I was writing pop music, mostly about heartbreak and finding love as many do in their late teens and early 20s. Jonatha was the queen of digging deep with her stories of relationships and life gone awry so I studied her techniques. She wasn’t all breakup tunes, though. She quoted the Declaration of Independence in her song ‘War’ and ended the CD with a bagpipe infused "Andrew Duffy’s Jig."

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This was inspiring to me because I wanted to be a singer/songwriter that couldn’t be dragged into the dreaded genre box. I studied the way she hammered her guitar strings in a percussive way on songs like "No Better" and “West Point” but then tugged at your heartstrings on the piano, guitar and accordion-drenched, "Inconsolable." I would listen to this particular song on repeat and just cry. “Cause you were the one sure thing / The one sure thing / Maybe I’m not crazy just inconsolable.”  She made me want to start using a dictionary and thesaurus when I wrote my own tunes and work harder on furthering my creativity in my lyric writing. I picked up a rhyming dictionary so that I could explore new words and sounds if I got stuck on a lyric. 

When I wrote songs, I would typically sit with a tape recorder (now my iPhone), my guitar or piano, think about a topic I wanted to write about, then start playing chords. Within minutes, the words, melody and chords would all come out at the same time. To this day, this is still my technique.  Many songwriters draw upon life experiences to create the best art and Jonatha is a shining example of turning pain into power. I always aspire to do the same. She plays a ton of instruments (guitar, piano, bass, drums…) and this always impressed me beyond words. 

Years later, I was playing at a children’s concert and was speaking with a parent who found out I was a huge Jonatha fan and it turned out, they are best friends. I nearly fell off my chair when she told me. I was shocked when this parent gave me Jonatha’s cell phone number and told me to call her.  Later that week I had tickets to a Woody Guthrie Huntington’s Disease tribute in which she was performing. Woody suffered from the debilitating disease and before the show Jonatha invited me to chat with her. She told me all about her mother who was suffering from another degenerative disease, most likely Alzheimer’s Disease, and how she had to run right home after the performance to get back to caring for her mom. I was so impressed by her strength and dedication.

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A few years later, as I was working on my 5th children’s CD Bandwagon with producer Dean Jones. I wrote a song called "Family Tree." The inspiration came from my grandmother, Sylvia Nusinov, a genealogist who has traced our family tree back many generations (which is difficult if you are from originally from Europe and members have perished in the Holocaust). I had just found out that Jonatha’s mother had passed away and she was writing a self starring one woman musical about her mother’s life, My Mother Has 4 Noses (Tangent… I actually saw it this year it at a GRAMMY event with Okee Dokee Brother Justin Lansing - it was incredible!).  When I penned the song, knowing how close Jonatha was with her mother, I wrote at the bottom of the page “Jonatha Brooke maybe sing harmonies?!?!?!” 

I sent her my demo via email, left her a voicemail and she actually returned my call and said she would love to do it. FREAKOUT! I couldn’t believe my songwriting hero was going to sing on my record. I invited her to the studio and as always, I was blown away by her unbelievable talent. She is also one of the coolest people I’ve ever met and she made me laugh a lot. I also literally broke out in hives during the session because I was so nervous to direct her! "Family Tree" went on to win 1st place in the USA Songwriting Competition which was a major songwriting accomplishment of mine. 

I really do have Jonatha to thank for shaping my songwriting career, going WAY beyond "Family Tree."

How I Got Here: Randy Kaplan (Harry Chapin)

In my "How I Got Here" series, in which kindie artists talk about albums that influenced them as musicians, the musicians usually limit themselves to one or maybe two albums, but Randy Kaplan's admiration for Harry Chapin cannot be contained to a mere album or two.

In his essay below, Kaplan talks about Chapin's influence, from individual songs to individual meetings with the man himself.  Fans of Kaplan will definitely recognize the seeds of Kaplan's own performing style in what he remembers about Chapin's.

Kaplan's next family album, Jam on Rye, is released on June 1.


I was lucky to be given carte blanche over the many records and record players in my house growing up way out on that long, Long Island. There were my mother's 45s of Elvis Presley, The Platters, and Nervous Norvus; my father's LPs of Bob Dylan, Phil Ochs, and The Beatles; and my great-grandfather's 78s of Mozart, Beethoven, and Brahms. I could barely lift those multi-record symphony folders with my great-grandfather's Yiddish scrawled on the covers but I was able to memorize every Elvis song in the stack, A-sides and B-sides. Nervous Norvus was my first exposure to the novelty song and I took to the genre right off the bat. I listened to Mitch Miller, Pete Seeger, and the triple-LP Woodstock soundtrack too. But the biggest musical influence of my childhood was our hometown hero, Harry Chapin.

Harry was famous for his lengthy story songs. Sure, a lot of them are a bit corny, but Harry can pull off corny better than anyone. His music and lyrics are elaborate and complex and diverse and poetic and bittersweet. And sometimes very, very funny. I'm thinking of songs like "30,000 Pounds of Bananas" and "Six String Orchestra." And Harry and his bass player "Big" John Wallace were a veritable comedy team onstage when they wanted to be. I learned a lot about interacting with audiences of all ages from watching Harry live in concert.

My family and some other families in the neighborhood went to see Harry every time he performed in the vicinity. After every show he would mingle with and talk to his fans and offer to sign our record albums and posters. I once wrote to him just to say hello and to ask him when he'd be performing again. He sent a fairly long personal note back to me, which I hung on my corkboard (it didn't come down for decades). I remember one line in particular: "My next gig will be on December 3rd." That was the first time I'd ever encountered the word "gig." I've heard it and said it a million times since then!

My friend Nadine wrote a letter to Harry with a little bit more of an agenda. She asked him to come play a few songs at our elementary school. He obliged. My mother pulled some strings, got me backstage, and told Harry that I played guitar too. He shook my hand, flashed a smile, and told me to keep practicing. He then proceeded to do an entire show, unplugged, for the whole school. He even called Nadine up to the stage to sit next to him on the piano bench as he sang "Tangled Up Puppet."

Harry was generous, humble, charismatic, and accessible. My mother once ordered his book of poetry and lyrics, Looking...Seeing, but it never arrived in the mail. She said she was going to call Harry personally and tell him. My father made fun of her, laughing, "You think he's just listed in the phone book like a normal person?!" Well, he was listed. And when my mom called him, he answered the phone! She told him about the problem and he sent over an autographed copy of the book right away.

Now that I have a son and a family of my own, I try to keep the caveats of Harry's only #1 song, the mawkish yet magic "Cat's in the Cradle," in mind, caveats about what could happen if you don't spend enough quality time with your family. I don't travel anywhere near as much as Harry did (he was on the go non-stop!) but as a musician I have to be on the road at least sometimes. So whenever possible, my wife and son travel with me. And when they can't, there's Skype and FaceTime, so that helps.

After all this time, I'm still inspired by Harry's talent, generosity, enthusiasm, and great recordings (my favorites are Verities & Balderdash, Portrait Gallery, and Greatest Stories Live). I'm certainly glad to carry the mantle of the lengthy story song to the children and family music genre. Yes, I've rationalized more than a few indulgent song lengths by reminding myself of Harry's epic numbers!

Harry told me to keep practicing. And I did. That's how I got here.

Photo of Harry Chapin by Steve Stout from Harry Chapin.com

How I Got Here: Laura Doherty (Billy Joel, The Beatles, Neil Young)

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Laura Doherty has a new album (In a Heartbeat, funded via Kickstarter) full of acoustic rockers for your favorite kindergartner, a new animated video ("Domingo the Flamingo"), a new band name (Laura Doherty and the Heartbeats) and a long history of making music for kids.

I've had a number of conversations with Doherty through the years -- she's one of the nicest musicians in a genre of nice musicians -- and so I was happy when she agreed to be the latest participant in my "How I Got Here" series of kindie artists reviewing influential albums.

Read on for not one, not two, but three albums of great importance to her on her El train to Chicago kindie musician.


Most of the music that influenced me when I was young, were pop and rock songs that had catchy melody lines, jangly guitars, and anything with harmony— the more parts, the better. I can’t remember ever not loving music and singing. I was the girl with headphones on, playing guitar with my tennis racket, in front of my bedroom mirror and singing into my hairbrush. Or I was often lying on the plush green rug in my yellow room, with my ear pressed up against my Emerson stereo speakers. (Thus inspiring the song “Yellow Room” from my band Sweet Hello’s album Well of Wishes).  

What album has influenced me the most in my own songwriting? I’ll break it down into one that has influenced my singing and one that’s influenced my guitar playing. And then a radio segment that rocked my world!

My parents did have a small collection of adult contemporary 60s and 70s records, such as Frank Sinatra and Barbara Streisand, which I liked, but it was really my brother’s record collection that I was drawn too. It was 1980, I was 10, and Billy Joel’s Glass Houses captured my attention. I stared at the teeny-tiny “hand-written” font of all the lyrics on the inside record sleeve, and I memorized every word. Growing up in NY, I had an instant connection to Billy’s voice. In “Sleeping with the Television On” I would sing it just like Billy, with a stronger NY accent that I actually had. To this day, if I’m in close proximity to a karaoke machine, you can bet I’ll be asking them to cue up “New York State of Mind”. “All for Leyna” was another favorites from that record. That driving piano riff and soaring vocal…pure 80s pop! I went on to collect all of Billy Joel’s albums after that. Of course MTV was in high gear with videos, and all the 80s music made an indelible mark on my brain.

Later in high school, I became completely obsessed with the Beatles, learning the words to every song, but oddly enough I never fully learned which songs are on which albums. This is because my introduction to the Fab Four came one Thanksgiving weekend, when NYC’s rock station 102.7 WNEW played EVERY Beatles song from A - Z. I popped in my cassette tapes and recorded the whole thing. My family must have not seen me too much that weekend as I was holed up in my room switching the cassettes! I remember it covered 3 days worth of Beatles music. And that’s how I learned Beatles songs…”Ob-la-di-bla-da”, followed by “Octopus’ Garden” followed by “Oh, Darling.”

Back to an album that greatly influenced my guitar playing. I discovered classic rock and folk-rock of the 60s and 70s right at the time I first picked up a guitar, around age 16. Neil Young’s triple compilation album Decade was one that greatly influenced me and I bought the accompanying guitar songbook too, and taught myself some chords. The chord progressions I play today, and the rhythmic way I approach the guitar, I believe have sprung from those Neil Young songs I was learning as a teen. “Old Man,” “Cinnamon Girl,” “Heart of Gold”…the guitar parts all have great melody lines. I could go on and on with influences after that, such as the Indigo Girls and all the female singer-songwriters emerging at that time. I immersed myself in this music!

Fast forward 20 years or so, I’ve been living in Chicago and music continues to weave through my life. Always a passion, then as a part-time career, and eventually 4 years ago, it turned full-time career of teaching, performing, and recording music for kids. You can hear those early folk and rock influences in my 3 children’s records and my adult records too — I’ve got one solo, and two with folk-pop band Sweet Hello. 

I began writing songs for kids in 2008, and it seemed a natural progression to the music I was playing already, and a nice pairing to the early-childhood music classes I was teaching (Wiggleworms), at the Old Town School of Folk Music. It’s a program that 15 years later, still brings me joy to teach. So thanks to Neil, Billy, The Beatles, and the Indigo Girls for acoustically rockin’ MY world!

Photo credit: Phil Onofrio

How I Got Here: Alison Faith Levy (The Who: Tommy)

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Alison Faith Levy first came to attention of the kids music world as one of the members of the Bay Area band The Sippy Cups, which started out as a '60s-inspired band and eventually incorporated that sound into a big circus-like stage show and pulling in inspirations from the '70s and even the '80s.

The Sippys are on hiatus, but Levy has started her own solo kids music career, releasing the fine debut World of Wonder a couple years ago.  Now she's working on a stage musical based on the album, a musical she hopes will be ready for the world next year.

So perhaps it's fitting that for Levy's entry in my "How I Got Here" series, in which kindie artists talk about albums that influenced them as musicians, she talks about The Who's Tommy, which could be considered the first "rock opera."  The double album was eventually presented on stage and screen (and then stage again, this time on Broadway).  I'm guessing that Levy's light show won't be as impressive as that Broadway production from 20 years ago, but you never know...


When I was a kid, I was lucky enough to have access to an incredible record collection – my parents’. They were still in college when I was born, and were always very progressive, artsy and culturally curious– my dad played piano and had been a radio DJ, my mom was an artist. They were, and still are, huge influences in my creative life and very cool people. 

Their album collection was a treasure trove of '60s and '70s gems, which they played around the house all the time. The Beatles, Moody Blues, Donovan, Elton John, Simon and Garfunkel… but the first album that I remember becoming completely obsessed with was Tommy by The Who. This was the original studio album, not the movie soundtrack, and once I found this on my parents’ record shelf, my life would never be the same. 

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Although I had always loved music and been captivated by everything I heard on the radio and around the house, Tommy hit me in a way that I had never experienced before. I must have been in 4th or 5th grade when I found it (the album had been out for many years), and when I discovered it I was completely obsessed.

It was the first time I had heard something that was a complete piece, from start to finish – like a Broadway show, but with the visceral intensity of rock n’ roll. I could not get enough of it. The music was so complicated and beautiful, the feelings so intense – it bowled me over. I would come home from school and listen to it from start to finish, over and over, obsessing over the spooky cover with the blue latticework design and weird surreal photo collage art in the booklet. I would pore over the lyrics, trying to make sense of it and put the story together. I would bring my friends over after school to listen to it with me, and try to explain what was going on, even though the lyrical content and sophisticated subject matter were clearly beyond my scope of understanding.  When it became clear that my friends would rather play with Barbies or watch TV, I got the hint that maybe this was a little beyond what they could handle. I then knew this would be the story of my life. 

During this time, I would sing and act out songs from Tommy to entertain myself and my friends. I remember clearly that at one lunch recess, I jumped up on a bench on the playground at school and sang “Acid Queen” from start to finish for my bewildered classmates. They must have thought I was insane. I didn’t even know what it meant – I just thought the dramatic nature of the song was so amazing I couldn’t contain myself! 

When I finally saw the movie, I have to admit I was a bit disappointed. It didn’t sound right to me, the music had changed, different people were singing the songs besides my beloved Roger and Pete (and a little bit of Keith). But I grew to appreciate some aspects of it, especially Elton John as the Pinball Wizard, who was my other big hero at the time. 

Tommy ignited in me a lifelong love of the concept album. From there it was Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, Dark Side of the Moon, and Born to Run. Then moving forward into artists like David Bowie, Tom Waits, and Elvis Costello – artists with albums that felt like complete works – that take you on a journey and pull you under their spell. I have always tried to create that in my work, even as a children’s artist – to take the listener somewhere that feels intentional, and meaningful, and dreamlike. So I have Pete, Roger, John and Keith to thank for that. The Sippy Cups even performed “Christmas” from Tommy in one of our winter spectaculars several years ago, complete with a snow machine – that was a pretty amazing moment for me. Tommy still gives me goosebumps whenever I hear anything from it, and that’s how an album should be. 


How I Got Here: Danny Adamson, the Not-Its! (The Cure, Joni Mitchell)

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Danny Adamson, guitarist for the sartorially superior Seattle pop-punkers The Not-Its, sometimes jokes about wanting to rock kids' faces off at upcoming shows.  Thus, it might surprise you to learn that when asked to write about an album that influenced him for our "How I Got Here" series, he picked an album by Joni Mitchell.    And also one by the Cure (who, I will note for the record, played the loudest show I've ever been to, at any rate).

But this isn't some fancy late-minute conversion -- check out his bio, he lists Mitchell and the Cure among his top 5 favorite artists there, too.

So read on for Adamson's stories of how the Cure saved his life (or at least from getting beat up) and singing along with Joni and how those helped him rawk melodically. 


Which band or artist is your favorite of all time?  Growing up, that was always the question asked.  Since people could never choose just one, I started altering the question to “What are your top 5 bands or artists of all time?”  This gained far better results, as people could no longer pull the “I’m so eclectic and well rounded, how can I possibly choose only one when I like soooo many styles of music?” card.  This served me well at parties during my 20’s.  Now I don’t ask, because I am stuck in the 80’s and 90’s and find that I no longer recognize bands that people list.  I am lazy about discovering new music these days and find if you put on a Wilco album in a social setting, 95% of people will be generally pleased.

On to my attempt to sound interesting and eclectic!  I wish I could write about 5 albums that influenced me musically, but nobody wants to read that much from a guy who’s not even the lead singer of The Not-Its!  So I will limit myself to two, one which was huge in my world at the time I first started playing guitar in the 8th grade - The Cure's Head On The Door - and another album that made me realize that it’s actually a good thing to “try” to sing as well as you can (rather than just get by or do the punk rock screamy thing) - Joni Mitchell's Blue.

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The Cure had many albums that were influential to me, and you can definitely make the case that my musical style leans toward their guitar heavy (less synth), earlier stuff, but Head On The Door was their first album that I obtained (would have said “purchased” but I probably stole that cassette as I was a sticky-fingered, hooligan in 8th grade).  I was a skater kid back then, not the “gothed out” type of fan, but The Cure influenced me in many ways….  There may or may not be VHS video footage somewhere out there of me holding a magazine page photo of Robert Smith’s face with the mouth cut out, lip-syncing to the song “The Catch.”  In junior high, just wearing a The Cure shirt once saved me from getting my ass kicked.  I threw something at a car and the hot pursuit ended with the car full of 20 something year olds catching me (don’t ask me how that happened?) and letting me off STRICTLY because of that shirt!

Anyway, that album was something new, that didn’t sound like pop music, or the poorly produced skate rock compilations I had received via my subscription to Thrasher skateboarding magazine.  I just liked how Head On The Door (and most of their other albums) sounded.  I wouldn’t say it is their best album, but definitely my favorite and most influential, as it just got me at the right time.  It was fun to try to figure their songs out on guitar.  Something about bands from across the pond felt cool to my friends and me.  Nobody at our suburban Seattle junior high was listening to The Cure or The Smiths and it felt nice to have something from far away that felt like our own.  Still to this day I put my boys to bed by playing guitar and often songs by The Cure make it into the rotation. 

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I started playing in punk bands in 10th grade in 1991.  I played guitar, my good friend also played guitar and a new buddy played bass.  We eventually found someone who played drums but still nobody could or would sing.  I started singing by default because nobody else was willing.  I was not good and confidence took years to establish.  I had a girlfriend with a hint of granola in her.  She owned some fleece, a pair of Birkenstocks, and pounded me down with the obnoxious crooning of Joni Mitchell.  I fought it hard with Fugazi and Superchunk, (which I believe she still loves today) but both sides triumphed in that battle as Joni Mitchell’s album Blue worked its way into my hard wired system.

That album and girlfriend both went away - the album for a few years and the girl forever - until I picked up Blue (purchased this one) on vinyl in 1997 or so.  I lived with 4 guys in a dude/party house near the University of Washington at the time.  A typical scene for one of my roommates to find when rolling home would be hearing Joni Mitchell blaring from my room with a giant speaker hauled into the bathroom, speaker wire stretched across the hall, and me screeching the high falsetto sounds of JM from the shower.  I was singing along due to its obvious genius as it grew on me, but also because I was actually trying to get better at singing.  Eventually I could sort of keep up with her and learned that breathing correctly and weird stuff like that were important elements to singing well.  With the album Blue, I really think you can feel the energy and emotion she put into the album (which I don’t usually say because how the heck do I know what went down in that studio?), but it’s tough to ignore when it’s just one person and her guitar or piano.  Pretty awesome.

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For me, these two albums simply just sound good to me and hit me at that right time in my life.  As I’m writing this, I’m finding it an interesting case study between albums that sound good and my association with music for children and families.  I know many people relate to albums of their past by what the album said to them and how they emotionally connected with the lyrics.  I’m quite the opposite.  I could hear a song 5 times and still not really tell you what it’s all about.  I just like it if a tune sounds good or has a nice harmony and I will always fall for an amazing little drum fill or hi-hat trick.  So yes, the guy who has never paid attention to the deep meaning of love songs is now writing music for kids.  I know kids are amazing, bright and full of potential, but what they really want is a good hook and a badass guitar riff.