In Memoriam: Drummers Part III

Here’s the third and final part of my tribute to some of the surprisingly large number of drummers we lost in 2022 (and I'm not sure what's going on here, because in the first few days of 2023, the deaths of  Jeremiah Green, drummer of Modest Mouse, and Fred White, the drummer with Earth, Wind and Fire, were reported) . If you are coming into this series now, Part I featured Jet Black (Brian Duffy), Jerry Allison, and Dino Danelli, and you can read that here, and Part II featured Alan White, John Hartman and Ric Parnell, and you can read that here. We’re proceeding oldest to youngest and are now beginning to get to two drummers who were pretty close to my age—and one who was younger. 

Anton Fier—Fier was born in 1956 in Ohio and found his way into that city’s proto-punk scene, playing on a Pere Ubu album before moving to New York. In 1978, he joined The Feelies, and his “nervous drumming” was a highlight of the band’s great first album, before leaving. His career then moved between art rock, new wave, jazz and avant garde music, with stints in The Lodge and The Lounge Lizards he founded The Golden Palominos, a “super group” that featured a rotating and changing cast of musicians that I wrote about here. You can see him drumming here at a Golden Palominos reunion show in 2010:



When that project ran its course, Fier played in other bands, toured with Bob Mould, and played on albums by, among others, John Zorn, Laurie Anderson, Mick Jagger, Yoko Ono, Herbie Hancock, Matthew Sweet, Los Lobos, Lloyd Cole, Afrika Bambaataa and Material. 

Fier had serious issues with alcohol, which he had kicked in recent years, but injured his wrists, making it difficult for him to drum, and thus to make money. Hounded by creditors, Fier became despondent, which was exacerbated by the pandemic. He died on September 14, 2022, in Switzerland, of what appears to have been assisted suicide. (And to eliminate any confusion, he is not Anton Figg, the drummer on David Letterman’s shows—and with others-- who is alive and well.) 

D.H. Peligro (Darren Eric Henley)—An early Black punk icon, Henley was born in 1959 in St. Louis, and was influenced as a young drummer by Kiss, Bachman-Turner Overdrive, and Black Sabbath. Moving to San Francisco as a teenager, he was introduced to punk and new wave music before joining the band S.S.I. Taking the stage name “Peligro” (danger), his drumming style blended punk rock, hardcore, metal, and reggae. 

In 1981, Peligro joined the Dead Kennedys, replacing original drummer Ted (Bruce Slesinger), who decided that he’d rather be an architect than a punk drummer. Peligro drummed with the DKs until their first breakup in 1986. Here he is, thrashing away (in a good way), on “Nazi Punks Fuck Off,” from a performance in 1982:



In 1988, Peligro joined his friends in Red Hot Chili Peppers, played a few gigs and contributed some writing to songs on Mother’s Milk, but was fired before the album was recorded due to his drug use. He did, however, introduce John Frusciante to the band, which worked out pretty well. 

After that, Peligro played in other bands that I’ve never heard of, worked with Moby, fronted a few bands, including one called Peligro, and another with the wonderful name, Al Sharpton’s Hair, and participated in Dead Kennedys reunions albums and tours (without original front man Jello Biafra). Peligro died on October 28, 2022, from head trauma caused by an accidental fall. 

Taylor Hawkins—So, we finally get to Taylor Hawkins, the only person on this list who was younger than me, and who, by all accounts was universally beloved. Hawkins was born in 1972 in Fort Worth, Texas, and grew up idolizing classic rock drummers, particularly Phil Collins and Roger Taylor, as well as Stewart Copeland. He got a gig drumming for Sass Jordan, which led to backing Alanis Morissette on her Jagged Little Pill and Can’t Not tours. During these tours, he would occasionally be given the opportunity to show off his fine singing voice on a cover of Queen’s “We Will Rock You,” while Morissette would handle the drums. 

When Dave Grohl needed a new drummer, he reached out to Hawkins for suggestions, and Hawkins suggested himself, because he preferred to be part of a rock band than backing a solo act. He quickly became an integral part of Foo Fighters due to his skill, his charisma, and his chemistry with Grohl. Over time, Hawkins began to perform the occasional lead vocal during shows and in the studio. I wrote about his cover of, yes, Queen’s rocking “Tie Your Mother Down,” for Cover Me’s “40 Best Queen Covers” article here, and you can see one performance of the song, with Hawkins singing and drumming here:

Hawkins was also reportedly a fine guitarist, bass player and pianist. In addition to his work with the Foo Fighters, he had tons of side projects, including Taylor Hawkins and the Coattail Riders, The Birds of Satan, DHC, with Dave Navarro and Chris Chaney of Jane’s Addiction, and played in a Police cover band (and another cover band, Chevy Metal), and with Coheed and Cambria, members of Queen in various projects, on one of fellow Foo Chris Shiflett’s solo albums, and with Elton John and Ozzy Osbourne, among others. And he played Iggy Pop in the movie CBGB, which I’m mostly mentioning because the movie was co-written and produced by a friend of mine (and is much better than most of the reviews I have read would have you believe). 

Hawkins long had drug issues—he overdosed on heroin in 2001 and was in a coma for 2 weeks. By 2021, though, he claimed to be healthy and that he had replaced drugs with mountain biking. There are reports that in the period before his death, Hawkins had expressed concerns about the physical and psychological toll that the Foo Fighters’ long, demanding shows and lengthy tours were taking on his body and mind. It was reported that he told friends and management that he’d “had enough,” but those reports have subsequently been denied. 

What cannot be denied, though, is that on March 25, 2022, Hawkins died in his hotel room in Bogotá, Colombia, at the age of 50, after reporting chest pains. The autopsy found ten “substances” in his system, including marijuana, antidepressants, benzodiazepines, and opioids. Also, his heart was nearly double the normal size, which could have caused his death independently of the “substances.” 

***

With that, I think that this is possibly the last post for me here, at least for some time, and maybe forever. When I started writing for this blog just over 11 years ago, it gave me an outlet to write about music that I love, an opportunity to learn more about that music, and to expand my musical horizons. Writing here gave me a new identity—music blogger. Writer. And that separate identity helped keep me sane though some difficult work experiences and starting my own law practice. It gave me confidence to write for Cover Me, and to start my own blog, Another Old Guy. It also probably helped move me to become my college class secretary, another thing that has enriched my life. 

But you might have noticed that Star Maker Machine, which used to have many writers, has, for the past few years, been down to three, and all of us have expressed concerns about having the motivation to post weekly (or even every other week). At least two of us have decided to stop, and the third is considering whether, and in what form, to keep this venerable blog alive. I encourage readers to look back at the posts over the years. We’ve had millions of views, because there’s some really great writing about music (and other stuff) in the archives. 

My intention is to write more for Cover Me, and to revive Another Old Guy, which has fallen dormant. And maybe, if this blog remains alive, to post something if the spirit moves me. 

Thank you for reading my work here for the past 11 years, and I hope that you check out my future writing elsewhere.

Shut Down: Last Call

I have to admit that I cannot remember ever being at a bar for last call. Which is not a joke—you know, like “if you remember the sixties, you weren’t there” (variously attributed to Robin Williams, Grace Slick, Paul Kantner, Dennis Hopper, Judy Collins, George Harrison, Pete Townshend and Timothy Leary, among others, including a comedian, Charlie Fleischer, who may have been the first to say it). It’s just that my heaviest imbibing days came when I was in college, and we almost never went to bars. Not to mention that I’m generally too, say, thrifty, to pay bar prices for a long night of drinking.

But I understand that “last call” is a big deal, because it requires you to fight inertia and the effects of alcohol, leave the cozy confines and head out into the world. Either you have to go home, or you are with someone, or you are alone, maybe disappointingly so. But you are probably drunk, and you need to decide whether to find somewhere else to keep drinking, or you have to accept the fact that the drinking part of the evening is over.

Not surprisingly, last call is a topic that is not uncommon in the music world, and we will touch on three very different songs, but not Kanye West’s “Last Call,” or Semisonic’s “Closing Time.” And because I don’t have a clever organizing principle, let’s just go in chronological order.  

Dead Kennedys: We’ve Got a Bigger Problem Now
[purchase]

I’ve written before about the Dead Kennedys, and how their very name was a slap in the face to political correctness. In their classic “California Über Alles,” they poked fun at the supposed hippie/fascist tendencies of then (and current) California governor Jerry Brown who, in the song, somehow becomes dictator of the United States. But not long after this was released, the country actually elected conservative president Ronald Reagan, whose vision for America scared the DKs even more than Brown’s supposed “suede denim secret police.”

Thus, the band released this revised version, called “We’ve Got a Bigger Problem Now,” which starts with a lounge jazz arrangement and the lyrics:

Last call for alcohol.
Last call for your freedom of speech.
Drink up. Happy hour is now enforced by law.

While most of the most dire predictions in the song didn’t come true, some did, and I think you can draw a direct line from the Reagan presidency to the current Tea Party fanaticism that led to the government shutdown.

But enough about politics.

Hüsker Dü: First of the Last Calls
[purchase]

The loudest concert that I ever went to was Hüsker Dü at Irving Plaza in 1986. By far. And Dwight Yoakam opened, which was probably the oddest combination at any concert that I have ever been to. I’ve always appreciated Hüsker Dü’s ability to write poignant songs, with great melodies, while still keeping their hardcore roots. My wife, on the other hand, has trouble hearing past the feedback and screaming, and doesn’t get it.

“First of the Last Calls” is from an early EP, Metal Circus, and it definitely falls more on the hardcore end of the spectrum. But you can still hear songwriter Bob Mould’s gift for writing great riffs, in this song about a man’s losing fight with the bottle. Mould, who has struggled with various substance abuse issues, has had an impressive career with Hüsker Dü, Sugar and as a solo artist. Not to mention writing the theme song to The Daily Show (although the current version is a cover by They Might Be Giants).

Jay Bennett: Second Last Call
[download for free]

Changing things up a bit, we come to a song by another excellent songwriter with substance issues, but who succumbed to them—Jay Bennett, who passed away from an overdose of prescription painkillers back in 2009. Probably best known for his work with Wilco, and for being fired from Wilco in a scene captured in the incredible film, I Am Trying to Break Your Heart, Bennett was in a regionally popular band, Titanic Love Affair, before joining Wilco, and had an intermittently brilliant solo career after leaving.

His talent, as a songwriter, producer/arranger and multi-instrumentalist. cannot be denied, and from all reports, he is not the only person to butt heads with Jeff Tweedy. Bennett plays all of the instruments on this song, a kind of peppy story about failed love at a bar, from his posthumously released album, Kicking at the Perfumed Air.

Good night--time to leave--drive safely, and don't forget to tip your waitress.....

Elvis Covers Part I: Viva Las Vegas

Dead Kennedys: Viva Las Vegas
[purchase]

In 1980, I was a college student and disc jockey at WPRB. Punk and new wave music were still pretty new, and we got an album called Fresh Fruit for Rotting Vegetables, by a band called Dead Kennedys. Even a liberal Democrat like me found that amusing—a band willing to make fun of sainted American politicians. As a college student, what is more attractive than a band willing to thumb its nose at convention and say fuck you to the establishment? It was almost embarrassing to mention the name on the air, but in some ways it was liberating.

I loved the Dead Kennedys first because of their name. But there was much more to enjoy. The music was fast, loud and intense, but still melodic and even catchy. The vocalist had a crazy voice and called himself “Jello Biafra,” again making light of a sacred cow, the horrific famine that ravaged Biafra during its failed attempt to secede from Nigeria. Then there were the songs—“Holiday in Cambodia”. “Kill the Poor”. “Let’s Lynch the Landlord”. “Chemical Warfare”. “California Über Alles”. Clearly a band that was willing to be controversial but with their tongue firmly in their cheeks.

And as if to prove that they weren’t taking themselves all that seriously, a cover of “Viva Las Vegas”. The Grascals’ version of this song posted by Joe Ross magnifies the country aspects of the Elvis version. The DK’s version enhances and glorifies the rockabilly and rock and roll aspects of the original, but which, as Allmusic notes, was probably designed to be “ironic and campy”.

This version is not the studio version, but a great live version that I first heard on a compilation I received as part of my subscription to Mojo Magazine, but is originally from a live album called Live at the Deaf Club, recorded in 1979, but not officially released until 2004.