Sex, Drugs and Rock and Roll Part I: Sex by Stevie Adamek

Sex was a strategic part of the touring experience in the late 1970s when my band, Bighorn, was touring with Van Halen, Journey, Boston, Triumph, and the J. Geils Band. It was after birth control and before AIDs, and the sheer amount of consensual sex that went on between groupies and bands was perhaps the most it’s ever been either before or since. There was an unspoken deal between female fans and guys like me in rock and roll. To mitigate the boredom, loneliness and the adrenaline high of performing, we both used sex to soothe our souls and keep ourselves occupied. It filled a variety of roles for both parties: sleep aid, tension releaser and comfort for the men, power and proximity to fame for the women.

The Number One Enemy: Boredom

Being on tour was a life of extremes. You’d have an hour, maybe an hour a half max of an 18,000 person party, and then 22 hours of trying to sleep, riding in planes and cars, and being bored, trying to stay out of trouble. Except we didn’t try very hard. There were no cellphones, no internet. All we had was a VCR and Eddie Murphy and Richard Pryor movies in the hotel room that we memorized line for line. For a bunch of high strung, neurotic young guys, this was bound to be trouble. (more…)

Five Things I Learned Opening For Boston by Stevie Adamek

In May of 1978, I was on the road as the drummer for the Seattle rock band Bighorn, and we had three shows scheduled to open for Boston. The first show was at Aloha Stadium in Honolulu, Hawaii, which could hold about 50,000 people. After that show, we were supposed to fly back to Seattle to open for Journey, and then it was back to opening for Boston somewhere in Oregon, and then Montana. Our debut record on Columbia Records Canada/US, self-titled Bighorn, was on the charts in Honolulu, as, of course, was Boston’s first album. They were just about to release their second album, Don’t Look Back.

A Meticulous Soundcheck Means Great Sound

Tom Sholz of Boston was meticulous about their soundchecks. He was the main writer, guitar and keyboard player, as well as producer for the band. Boston’s soundchecks usually went from 2-4 PM. As I watched the soundcheck, I could see that Scholz paid a lot of attention to getting the sound exactly the way he wanted. This was clearly the secret to why Boston basically sounded like a louder version of their record every night when they performed. Tom was also very conscious that both bands sound good on stage, so he always made sure we had time after their soundcheck to get everything right for Bighorn.

I’ll never forget playing with Boston because they had the best monitors, the best crew, and it was a great experience to play on their stage because you could hear everything really well, and you knew the audience was also hearing everything just the way it should be.

Sometimes Fame and Fortune Are Not Enough

After that first show, and knowing that we had more shows with them coming up, we got to meet Boston and hang out with them. We hung out with the bass player, “Frantic” Fran Sheehan, who had been brought on to play bass in 1975. He was called that because he couldn’t hold still when he played the bass. He was a really great guy, very sweet. The drummer, Sib Hashian, was curious about my custom-made snare drum, so we talked drums. They also liked us because our lead singer, Bob Marcy, lived in Maui, and he had access to some of the best bud in Hawaii. But that’s another story.

In order for a band like Bighorn to go to Hawaii, our manager had to book us into a week’s worth of shows to make it worthwhile. We played the one show with Boston at Aloha Stadium, and then stayed for another week to play at a nightclub. Boston didn’t have to play the nightclub gig, so we all hung out on the beach during the day. It was a lot like a vacation for everyone.

Brad Delp, the lead singer of Boston, started hanging out with Bighorn after the shows. I remember telling him that he had sung a great show, but he just couldn’t take the compliment. He said things like “Oh, I could have done better” and “it wasn’t my best show.” Looking back, now, I can see how he just couldn’t believe he was the lead singer of this rock and roll band. He was one of rock’s best singers in the world, yet he couldn’t hear in his own head how good he was. Boston was different from Van Halen (who we had just finished opening for earlier in the year) because they weren’t putting on any airs about being rock stars. Boston was just a group of guys who were in a very successful rock band.

I could see thirty years later when I heard about Brad’s suicide that the roots of his depression were already there even early in his career. Despite being a multi-millionaire rock star who seemed to have everything going for him, it just wasn’t enough.

Just Ask – But Ask The Right Person

Sholz was an engineer by training, who had a Master’s degree from MIT. He had also worked at Polaroid before being in the band. I came to see that his standoff-ishness was really just shyness about performing and being out in front of all these people. He was really a sweet guy, as was the whole band. Tom was a perfectionist about the band’s sound, which I appreciated, having already done production work myself at Seattle West (AKA Sea-West) Studios.

Boston had these great catered dinners every night. We would eat either before or during sound check. A couple of times, I was able to sit with Frantic or Sib, but then I would slowly migrate over to sit next to Sholz. I wanted to ask him if we could play more shows. I knew our management was working on it behind the scenes, but I think it really made an impact when I told Tom the second night at dinner how much I appreciated the care that they showed for us as the opening act as far as the food and soundchecks. I could see how much attention he paid to making the show a great experience for both bands, and for the audience. After telling him this, I finally worked up my courage and just asked him if we could play some more shows with them. He said yes! I knew there was negotiating going on in the back channels with the labels and managers, but ultimately Tom had the power to make that decision. So we ended up playing three more shows (six in total) with Boston.

Stagecraft And Drama

One of the things Boston had in their stage show was a full pipe organ on a scaffolding that they would wheel right out of the truck onto the stage. All the pipes were arrayed around Tom’s B3 Hammond organ. When Tom played his big organ solo intro to Long Time on the B3, wearing a cape and looking very dramatic like the Phantom of the Opera, I was always amazed that it sounded and looked like this big pipe organ was playing. In fact, the pipes were all a prop. From my backstage vantage point, I could see it was all just the B3 mic-ed with a Leslie speaker! The whole pipe organ array was just a giant prop for that one solo before Long Time – but it created an important dramatic moment in the show towards the end. I learned how much drama and stagecraft went into that moment, which had a huge impact on the audience. It was not just the sound, but also the visual of the pipes, that made the solo so grandly entertaining, and this dramatic moment helped make the overall show very successful. Boston was not only a band of great musicians, they were great entertainers.

Take Advantage of Unexpected Opportunities

After our week in Honolulu hanging out with Boston, we were scheduled to fly back to Seattle for an interim gig to open for Journey at the Seattle Arena on May 23^rd, before resuming our tour with Boston. The problem was that there was an airlines strike, and they had canceled many of the flights. All the vacationers were freaking out that they couldn’t get off the island. Our management had gotten each member of Bighorn a ticket to fly out several days before the Seattle show date, so we would be back in time to play with Journey.

We saw an opportunity to make some money, at least for a few days until we absolutely had to be in Seattle. Every day for four days, the whole band – me, Bob Marcy, Joe Shikany, Michael Ibsen and Peter Davis  –  would all drive to the airport in our rental car. When they would announce the flights to Seattle at the airport, there were people pushing and shoving like an angry mob to get on the plane. People were desperate to get home from their vacations. So we would sell our tickets for $350 back to the airline, and get another ticket for free, which they were more than happy to provide because they had so many frantic customers. So we made $350 a day each for four days off those tickets.

But here was the problem – we waited so long that there were only seats left for the band, and not the road crew. We had rented equipment in Hawaii, so luckily our gear was still back in Seattle, but we ended up not being able to get our roadies back to Seattle in time for the Journey concert. It was either the roadies or the band getting on the plane, and the band had to be there. The only way the roadies could get to Seattle was to fly up to Alaska first, so they ended up missing the Journey show in Seattle. We had to hire some roadies from other bands in the area to help with the Seattle show. We still had to pay our roadies, of course, but I still think we made some extra money for the band on that little venture.

A Great Band And Great People

Opening for Boston was one of the best experiences of my career. I learned a lot from them: they were hard working, smart, and humble guys who really were all about the music. They were kind to their opening acts, and never treated us badly or ignored us. I always had the greatest respect for them as musicians, and they were also just really good people, which I think shows in their ability to sustain success.  After 35 years, they continue to put out excellent music and entertain their fans with great shows to this day.

Chuck Berry Waiting On The Cash

by Stevie Adamek

It’s 1972, Ashland Oregon, at the College Auditorium. A band I was in, “Dancing Bare,” was opening for and then backing up Chuck Berry. We were a trio of Steve Stubbs on bass, Allen Sanders on keyboards and me on drums.

The place was packed, and a cloud of pot and other stimulants was obvious.

We were in a small dressing room, when in walks Chuck Berry, carrying his 335 Gibson guitar in his right hand and a beautiful young blond woman in his left. They had just flown in to a nearby airport and driven to the campus. He was very sweet, with soft eyes and an engaging presence.

We had some fun chit-chat, and were about to go on when Chuck looked out to the stage… And saw one Fender Dual Showman rig. His contract calls for two, so he says “Hold up. Where’s the other rig?”

So the stage manager, promoter and a Board of Regency guy from the college started this lame apology, and they went back and forth for a while until Chuck agreed to play with the one rig. Looks like everything is fine, and we head towards the stage door as the dude from the college hands Chuck an envelope with a check for  $7500.00…And before we get through the door Chuck yells out “Hold up! we don’t start the show until I get cash. Period.”

Now it was clear that Mr. Berry was not to be F-ed with… He very calmly asked us to come back in the room, relax and wait. He looked at us and said, ”They’ll get the money.” I was very impressed at his resolute position. This was a man who would never be burned again. So even as the crowd of 2500 was pounding the floor, Chuck Berry sat with us, and we talked about guitars, amplifiers, recording and most importantly getting paid in cash before anyone played a note. We could tell there were a lot of phone calls going around to find the money and the crowd was going nuts…this was a Saturday night!

Finally, someone found a local bank official, got the cash and walked in with a handful of $100 bills.

Chuck calmly counted the money, put it in his pocket, and told us to go.

We hit the stage with the crowd erupting as we burned through a 25 minute set. Then, Chuck comes on stage, says to Steve and Allen, “You know the changes,” and then comes over to me as he’s ripping into Johnny B Good and yells “ You, play fast!”

There I am, at 20 yrs old playing drums for a true R&B legend…it was all so crazy and cool…about half way through the set he came over to me and asked how I was doing.

I’d never played so fast and so hard in my life but I was doing great!

We played all his hits and ended with “My Ding a Ling”. We hit one last rave up, came down on a loud splashy E chord, and hen he and his guitar and his girlfriend disappeared…  Showbiz is wonderful.