Subtle Hint: Personnel

Mike is more than a character; Mike is a force-of-nature. A chain-smoking, quick-witted, chatty-Kathy, hyperactive, Type-A’s Type A, junk-food-junkie, beer-swilling force-of-nature. He enters a room, he walks on a stage, all eyes go to him and his mass. Also, a veritable bottomless pit of musical knowledge – go ahead, ask him, ask him about Bach or John Coltrane or Dweezil Zappa. He knows the answer. And chances are he can play it on his bass. Mike, this kid four or five years younger than me, playing with us while he’s still in high school, while we’re out drinking at bars, this kid is the best bassist I’ve ever played with.

But wait. Perhaps I should flesh out Steve and Rich a bit more for you, since they are, as is Mike, essential to the Subtle Hint experience.

Rich is the most unique guy that I knew. That’s needs qualification, I know. Let’s see. As a typical white kid in a typical middle-class town with typical friends and schoolmates, all conforming to unwritten codes of image, Rich’s entrance into my life was probably the most eye-opening splash of cold water I ever had. Even more so than a year at college. Long hair, unshaven, purposefully growing his thumbnails to aid his guitar pickin’, he is smart, free-thinking, side-splittingly funny when he wants to be. Knows so much music I am completely clueless. Initially I felt quite inadequate in his presence. He exposed me to Zappa, Husker Du, early early Metallica, Henry Rollins and Black Flag. Stuff I still listen to today, when I try to catch a tiny fragment of those rebellious, dangerous days of my youth.

His guitar playing is much more edgier than mine, more aggressive. In fact, one of the best lessons I learned back then was what he said before just before we hit the stage for an early gig: Play the songs however you want, but always play aggressive. The significant characteristic to his soloing is such a melodic vibrato and a command of tone. He made that block of wood and wire sing like a human voice. So adept is he at it that I often described my role in Subtle Hint as simply to provide a sonic background to make him sound good.

Steve is pure enigma. He brought us all together, he was the impetus from the very beginning, but somehow he was the weakest link in the grand scheme of things. A poster boy for someone who persists in something that he has little talent while completely disregarding the things that he excels at. Steve had to be a singer. No, not a singer. A front man. And all the trappings that came with it. He is a born comedian and a born showman, true, but a born singer he is not. At best he is an imitator: think Steven Tyler of Aerosmith, with all his mannerisms but minus all the scarves, and you’ve nailed Steve’s technique.

The crazy thing is, Steve’s a more-than-decent drummer; he often subbed on drums during those early manifestations I spoke of in previous posts. I thought if he stuck with it he could become an excellent one. It came natural to him, natural like networking and promoting did. The guy always knew other musicians. Was never afraid to work the phone. Never afraid to hand out demo tapes, flyers to shows, or speak to a promoter, no matter how much of a crackpot the dude turned out to be. Drums, yes. Management and managerial duties, sure. But singing … In the beginning, when we were all green and learning the instruments, it sufficed. But eventually we reached a point where it didn’t. More later on that.

Now, back to Mike. I think I first met him when he was fourteen. He answers an ad we put up in a music store, and shows up one day, back when Steve, Rich and I were the Outpatients, cigarette dangling from his mouth, and jams with us. A year or two later, while I’m in Free Reign playing my first live shows, Rich starts playing with him. A year after that, after that phone call from Steve, the four of us start rehearsing all the old songs again.

Mike finds a drummer named John, who immediately fits in with us. Drummers were always the weak link with us. Couldn’t find good ones, in the early days. Then, once we found good ones, they turned out to be head cases, basket cases, nut cases. One drummer quit because he decided to concentrate full-time on his job working for his girlfriend’s dad at Goodyear. Another was cruising off a high-paid settlement from a metal girder landing on his head. But this guy John fits right in. I never grow close to him, but he is soft-spoken, funny, a little aloof, but quite skillful – more jazzy than power, I’d say – behind the drum set. Even brings along his best buddy, a Garth-from-Wayne’s World-lookalike named Jim who roadies for us.

The goal is no longer just to party. No longer just to figure out cool riffs that fit together. No longer to work on improving our skill on our particular instruments. No. The goal now is to be a real band, playing real original songs, real live shows, developing a following, a repertoire, and getting signed. Getting paid to play, to write, and to be in a band. That is the goal. That is the next step. Five years since I walked up that street and came across Steve and Rich jamming in a garage, we finally have a team assembled and ready to go.