|
| |
Music Mentors: Cousin Phil
by Randi Reed
Nearly everyone in the music industry had someone in
their life at an early age who introduced them to their favorite music. Maybe it was a
sibling, friend, or even camp counselor, but there was probably someone who took that
future musician or exec-to-be under their wing and played them their favorite albums.
My music mentor was my cousin Phil.
Five years older than me, Cousin Phil was a great musical influence. When it came to
musical show and tell, Phil was the best, delivering a brief bio of the bands as he put
each record on, as well as a running commentary on how "cool" various band
members were (or weren't). And he never laughed at the probably silly questions my brain
conjured up about the bands...though he did strongly object to my referring to KISS's Peter
Criss as "Kitty Cat." (Can't blame him there...)
Cousin Phil was the first person I ever knew who had posters of rock stars in his room.
Once after playing a Rolling Stones album--it was the first time I ever
heard "Paint It Black", a song I still love--Phil informed me in a voice filled with admiration
and awe that Mick Jagger was the world's ugliest rock star. Picturing someone--or some
thing--hideously deformed, I can still remember looking up at Phil's poster of a bearded
Mick Jagger and being disappointed, in my 6 year-old head, that not only was Mick not
ugly, he didn't look as cool as I'd expected! (I've since reformed on that second
point. Mick is very cool.)
It was Cousin Phil who played the Beatles for me the first time, and God forbid,
encouraged me to sing along. I hated the "mushy" lyrics--Blasphemy, I know--but
from that day on I never forgot the words to "Do You Want to Know a Secret..."
Out of habit, I still sing it in the quasi-British accent we used that day. Some months
later, Phil informed me the Beatles had just broken up. I didn't understand what that
meant but knew it was monumental. And when he said, "It means they won't be a band
anymore" I sighed with a heavy heart.
Cousin Phil was also the first person I ever knew who had a practice room. (His
family’s spare bedroom, and later the garage, were vacated so Phil's drum set could
move in). When I was eight, my grandfather died and I stayed with Phil's family for the
summer. Phil practiced drums every day, and I got my first "roadie" job: turning
the record over and keeping the tunes coming so he could keep up the momentum as he
practiced. (CD players hadn't been invented yet.)
A couple of times his friend Drew came
over with his guitar and they jammed--again, with me acting as road crew. There was no way
they were going to keep me out of there...but the cool thing is, they never asked me to
leave. At the end of the summer, my Bible Belt parents must have been horrified when I
came home singing KISS's "Room service, baby I could use a meal..." But I didn't
know what it meant, and they said nothing, so my love of KISS was censorship-free.
The one and only time I ever went Christmas caroling, I went with Cousin
Phil. "Caroling" consisted of Phil and I walking briskly around the
neighborhood, screeching "Joy to the World" at the top of our lungs. Rock
and roll fans that we were, somehow Jeremiah the bullfrog got in the mix,
too, so we ended up having a Three Dog Caroling Night. When I learned what
caroling really was, I still liked our rock and roll version better. Years
later I got a job at a talent agency that counted Three Dog Night and KISS
among its clients…talk about coming full circle!
My family moved to another state when I was 13 and Phil and I lost track, so we grew up
not knowing each other. But I have a great picture of Phil and his daughter Kelsey from
when she was a toddler: Kelsey's got Phil's electric guitar, and Phil's playing her toy
xylophone. Classic Cousin Phil. But I'll bet if we ran into each other and someone put on
that Beatles album, we'd be singing along with British accents...and his now
teenaged
daughter would probably be looking at us like we're nuts. But I hope she'd be singing
along, too.
Was there a Cousin Phil in your life? Did your love of music bring you money, fame, or
just lots of enjoyment? If the answer is yes, perhaps a "thank you" is in order.
And while you're at it, follow the School of Rock philosophy and pass it on to someone younger than you.
Thanks, Cousin Phil. --RR
Update: One of my cousins sent "Cousin Phil" a
link to this, and we're back in touch. He's still playing, and can be heard
on Gulcher Records' Christmas Snerts.
Check him
out, and tell his cousin Randi says hello.--RR
TOP |
| |
|
