Bruce and I were much, much more than just good friends -- we were elemental to each other, like the sun to the moon. We would drive each other in our music in ways that no other players in either of our lives could do. With each new musical height we would attain, we would look at each other, laugh and marvel at each other as to what just happened -- astounded by what we did together -- something we could never have achieved on our own without each other. In a way, we were like lovers; always trying to please each other and drive each other nuts looking for that ultimate high of musical perfection that only the two of us could give each other. When we played together, we lost track of time, space and everything or everyone else in the room … transfixed by this ethereal connection in mutual amazement. The last time we played was only 5-6 weeks before Bruce passed, and it was incredible. We played for over 3 hour’s non-stop. Bruce never missed a beat. When we finally did stop, Bruce had blisters the size of silver dollars on both hands; he was soaking wet with sweat and came out from behind his drums laughing hysterically and hugged me and kissed me with that big wet sloppy kiss that only Bruce could do. I felt like he was using me as a bath towel, as he was so wet, but that was Bruce. I just kissed him and hugged him back; I loved him so much. Then I went into the house to wash up and dry off. I was barely able to stand up that day as I have developed a degenerative spine disease, but somehow, God gave me the strength to rise up to the occasion. Bruce had insisted that it would be just the two of us that day -- but it sounded like 10 guys were playing in that little room. I think I may have been that last person to play with Bruce and have the tremendous privilege of feeling that immense power he possessed. He was so much more that a drummer -- he was the master of his world with no equal in my eyes. When he wanted to, he could hit the snare drum so hard it sounded like a cannon shot. If you weren't ready for it, it would literally make you jump back. And then, only a second later, he could play a celestial harmony of cymbals and bell trees. Over the nearly 40 years we played together, it was always Bruce who was the keeper of the music. He would manage to get a monitor mix on cassette or DAT. He always kept the masters of everything we did. Without Bruce’s obsessive and compulsive dedication to preserving everything he did, those precious moments together would have been lost. For my birthday recently, Bruce put a CD compilation together for me of all the little snippets and bits of all our stuff from the early 1970’s to our last recordings in 1991. One of his very favorite songs, and one he always insisted on playing every time we got together, is “Hang On To Your Head”, an anthem to my frustrations of being a musician during the oil embargo when no one could get vinyl, and therefore, no one could get a record deal unless you were a sure thing like Carol King or James Taylor. In any event, little did I know that I was really writing this song for Bruce as his anthem 30 years later. He would always sing the harmonies with me in the chorus, so when I play it for you, remember that is him singing. I don't expect you will hear the lyrics too well, so let me recite them for you, and then I would like to play this song for you on this little boom box thing.
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Time is getting shorter and the money’s getting harder to come by …
And love is not the answer for the hungry and the dying to rely …
So hang on to your head. Disregard what they said. Just play it your way and you’ll get there someday …
There’s people all around you who’ll sell their souls and bodies for a dime …
They’ll lie and try to fool you, and bring you down to their own size …
But hang on to ideals. Do exactly what you feel. Just play it your way and you’ll get there someday …
Yes you’ll get there someday …
Hang On To Your Head
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We recorded this song in Dennis Dragon’s garage in 1973 or 1974 on a TEAC 4 track with just me and Bruce and Larry. Even though we tried to record it again many years later, it just never had the sound and feel of the original and it was always Bruce’s favorite. It says so much about our special relationship.
Bruce always called us brothers. In truth, we were closer than I ever was to my own brothers, both who have passed on some years ago. I now know that whatever time we had together was so special and was precious little in the grand scheme of things.
Bruce, I promise you this my precious love, my soul mate, my brother -- I will do everything in my power to keep your music as alive and vibrant as you were although I will never be the same without you. No one will. But thankfully, I have some of our music to fall back on and listen to. I am just going to miss you so much; there are no words to say it.
Your best friend and brother, Randala