| I ask then what
kind of a track the guys were on career-wise before deciding to commit themselves
to this band and music as a profession.
This time Clif answers first.
“I just decided that I never wanted to work in a cubicle, so I was
just doing the service industry thing, which is…I don’t know.
The way I saw it is you’re almost your own boss in the service industry.
Of course, you have your crappy managers and whatnot but at least you’re
responsible for your own thing. You’re standing, you’re walking
–“
“You take off whenever
you want,” Jim says, to which Clif replies, “Yeah, exactly.”
“You’re beholden
to no man – that kind of thing,” I offer.
“Yeah! So I was just
basically treading water, knowing what I didn’t want to do but just
hoping to find the thing that I did want to do. I worked with Jim –
we waited tables at the same place in Chicago, this deep-dish pizza place.”
The memory gets the guys laughing, and Clif continues. “But it was
cool because the guy who taught me how to play the drums, Mike, got me
the job there and that’s how I met Jim so…thank god for Mike!”
I turn to Steve and Jim, “What
about you? Did you go to college specifically to do something and then
end up doing something else, namely Helen Stellar?”
Steve says, “Yeah, I
think everybody ended up doing something else. I thought I had a career.
I was twenty-five and I was thinking about where I was at compared to
all of my friends and stuff like that. And then it just got to a point
where this group was getting closer and everyone was supporting all of
our efforts. Then it was very difficult for me to live that life and also
this one…and, uh, I ended up getting fired.”
The laughter gets more raucous
as Jim recalls, “He used to come to practice in this shirt and tie
with this big watch on, like total business. It was great. And then right
when he got to practice we’d all get high and he’d rip the
tie off, roll up his sleeves and all of a sudden, like he was in rock
mode!”
Clif says to Steve, “I
like to think I’m responsible for you getting fired. To this day
I still like to think that I dragged you down,” and I interject,
“You saved him is what you did!” which provokes more laughs
and vigorous nods.
It’s back to Q&A
mode after everyone settles down. “Last night you were talking about
Chicago and how it’s not the way you remember it being when you
were starting out there. What was the music scene like when you started
and what’s your take on it now?”
“When we started it was
cool because it seemed like it was something,” Jim recalls. “We
thought, wow, we could actually be a part of a scene, period – not
to mention in a pretty major city, one that Smashing Pumpkins used to
be atop! I thought at that point it was really a cool thing. We’ve
experienced it but we’ve never been in the mainstream of it at all.
And it doesn’t seem like that much of really a scene to me. I can’t
put my finger on it. It’s just not clicking yet with Chicago.”
Steve
says, “There’s an in-crowd in Chicago, just like there’s
an in crowd here. And even though we claim ourselves a Chicago band, we’re
not in that in crowd in Chicago.” “Sort of on purpose,”
Jim chimes in with more laughs.
“What’s that in-crowd
like?”
Pondering, Steve answers, “Well
it’s players that have multiple bands; these guys are out playing
two times a week at least. I’m almost glad that we weren’t accepted
into the system because that could have...that could have been a final destination
for us. Moving to Madison...I thought that that might create some mystique,
that we might get some respect from people. But dealing with these booking
agents and stuff like that, it’s all numbers and who you know.”
“It’s about business,”
I say, “not about what you can play.”
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