This Magic Moment – The Music Edition

As I reminisce about the long and wonderful life I’ve had, I realize I’ve enjoyed so many small but enjoyable experiences—experiences that when I look back on, I really appreciate my life even more. I recently have come to label these experiences “Magic Moments.” They come in different shapes and sizes; most are full of joy, some are downright luck, and others can seem like divine intervention. Today’s magic moment comes in the form of music.

Music has always been a big part of my life. From listening to AM radio as a kid, to playing in bands for over fifty years, to attending concerts regularly since I was fifteen, music has always been here for me, with me. AM radio played all the popular songs as I grew up in the sixties. In the early seventies, I started buying albums and took guitar and bass lessons. In the late seventies, I had learned just enough about playing bass to answer an ad in the Boston Phoenix for a bass player for a cover/original band. I’d read through the Phoenix every week when it came out. It had all the ads for gigs for bands and musicians, along with a comprehensive listing of the local music scene. I knew just enough to get by. I had basic, cheap equipment but answered the ad nonetheless. I was invited to audition in the next town over, Woburn, MA. I arrived at the home of “Count” Joe Viglione, the band leader. The band was set up in the basement, and the hours-long audition got underway. I left with a list of scribbled notes of songs, both originals and covers. I went home, put in the work, and returned for a second hours-long audition. I left, and they called me back again. This is going well, I thought; I’m practically in the band at this point. Joe fronted the band, singing and playing guitar. The band had a female singer, keyboard player, lead guitar, and a brand new drummer who was younger than me, underage. At the end of the long third audition, the band sat me down, surrounded me, looked at each other nervously, and they began to talk. They told me they had auditioned many bass players over the course of the last month. They said all of the others were better bass players than me. Then they said I was the nicest guy they’d ever met; welcome to the band. I got the gig! This Magic Moment. I believe that the underage drummer had convinced them that he could train me to listen and lock in with his drumming, which he quickly did.

Local music in Boston in the late seventies and early eighties was a special time, just ask anyone who was there. Bands like The Rings, Mission of Burma, Peter Dayton, Pastiche, The Real Kids, La Peste, New Models, Nervous Eaters, The Neighborhoods, Til Tuesday—the list went on and on. I’ve forgotten more bands than I can remember. But what a time it was. The Rat (Rathskeller) had four bands per night, up to six nights a week, most of them local bands, with a few regional up-and-coming stars. The Paradise (Paradise Theater) hosted mostly national/international bands, but occasionally they had a few local offerings. I adored these two places and the music that was happening there.

One week and one rehearsal went by since joining the band. I got home from work one day and my dad said “The Count” had called. I called Joe back and he informed me we were playing that night, last minute opening at—The Rat. I had officially been in the band one week and we were playing The Rat on a Tuesday night! This Magic Moment

A short time after our band played the Paradise (Paradise Theater) opening for Peter Noone (Herman’s Hermits) and on another occasion sharing the stage with a host of other local bands. That winter was filled with gigs at Sir Morgan’s Cove in Worcester and a weekly gig at Cantone’s, an Italian restaurant by day and local music venue by night. This dreamy local music scene that I had adored; I was now part of. This Magic Moment.

Over the years, playing live music took a backseat to business, but I still played in lots of cover and original bands on the weekends. In the late nineties, I was invited to join Rat Fink, a punk band donning black leather jackets onstage. We played a bunch of local shows, but the highlight was a venue that I yearned to play in but never imagined I would – The Elvis Room, Portsmouth, NH. It was a perfect gig. We were well-rehearsed. The place was packed. I got to sing backup vocals. And we played there twice. At the end of my run with the band, we played at TT The Bears in Boston Ma. It was a perfect gig. We were well-rehearsed again. The place was packed again. I got to sing backup vocals again. This Magic Moment.

About twenty-five years ago, I began to combine original folk music and kirtan (devotional Sanskrit chanting). I played mostly at yoga studios to a somewhat captive audience. Kirtan is a call-and-response form of music, encouraging audience participation. I had many great experiences, including several bands consisting of guitar, bass, harmonium, drums, keyboards, banjo, violin, cello, and mandolin. I made an album of our kirtan music in two thousand and ten. It is now available, finally, on all streaming platforms or here on BandCamp. Over the years, I’ve grown somewhat uninterested in the genre, but recently began to play kirtan again with a growing group of friends who are musicians. All nice people; maybe that’s why they’re in the band 🙂

In 2020, when I turned sixty two, I decided to start collecting Social Security. Everybody advised me against it because you can “get more money if you wait”. I didn’t wait. But neither did the cancer. I was diagnosed with terminal cancer less than six months after my first check. One of the first things I did after the initial freak-out was write down some things I really wanted to do with the rest of my life, not knowing how long that would be. I wrote down four things. Form a band. Record originals. Write lyrics. The fourth one will remain private until it comes true. I formed a band. Two actually. Wounded World, a rock band with three friends and Nomadic Souls a kirtan band, with five or six more friends. Two years ago I slowly started writing original music, rehearsing and recoding it. And I’m writing lyrics. You can click and listen to any of the kirtan or rock music that I’ve have created. It is one of the scariest things I’ve ever done. Putting yourself, your own music, your own words, your own singing, your own instrument playing – out there – into the world – for anyone to hear.

The kirtan band just played on Sunday afternoon. We were doing a fundraiser for a couple of schools that Laurie and I support in India and Thailand. When I got up Sunday morning I felt like crap. That’s somewhat typical these days. Some mornings I feel fine, even energetic. Other days I’m napping at 1 PM. I went to the studio on Sunday and set up the band equipment. A small group of about twenty five people came. They all sat quietly and politely and we started to play. I sat and played guitar in a folding chair for the entire gig. I have trouble getting up and down from the floor these days, and even when I can get down I’m unable to sit crossed legged. I sang with my eyes closed for the better part of two hours. I instantly felt better. A handful of the participants sang in response with us. Some just relaxed and took in the vibe. Everyone was present and focused on the music we were creating. No talking. No TV’s. No alcohol (I quit almost three years ago). By the end we had raised over a thousand dollars for the schools! As I reflected on the experience later that night I realized it truly was amazing. I’ve spent decades playing in clubs, bars, schools, etc to a handful of people most of the time where the band is just the background. This was different. A band improvising music on the fly, playing songs that can run four minutes to ten minutes or longer. Singing back and forth with the small crowd, who remained engaged, respectful and present for two hours with the music! Even though I had done this dozens of times over the past few decades It wasn’t until I was fully present that I realized it was the perfect gig. This Magic Moment

I mean, what more could you ask for? I began to think how I could recreate this with some of the other music projects I’m involved in.

Anyway, I’m still here. The classic, dull bone pain from prostate cancer is here, mostly in the background. Next scans are in August, right after a trip to Costa Rica. In the meantime my heart and eyes are open for the next Magic Moment.

Below is the artwork for my first four songs and the kirtan album. You can click and listen free of charge – no streaming service required.