Cleaning Out My Closet              Tuesday, November 13

Q. What's the most common lie told to drummers?

A. Wait a minute and I'll come back and help you with your gear.

Many people know about my collection of, um, drummer jokes. But what very few people know is that at one time I aspired to a life of rhythm, unscrewing pieces of metal and tolerating the humor attempts of mere mortals.  Yes, I wanted to be godlike. I wanted to be a drummer.

Maybe "aspire" is too strong a word.  Even "want" is pushing it.

I was afraid to sing.  The guitar strings hurt my fingers. But we were starting a band, and I had to do something.

My brother Michael and our friend Bob and I had been spotting Angela Jaeger out and about at NY shows for a while.  Nowadays, everybody looks "interesting" & "hip" (oh wait, that was at least a decade ago...now everybody just sort of looks the same.) But back then, when there were some pretty creative dressers out there, Angela still stood out.  Her clothes were cool.  Her hair had changed color practically every time we saw her.  And when she jumped on stage at The Palladium the first time the Clash played New York, and was chased off by a security guard or a roadie, she was our hero.

We finally got to talk to her that night, at a party in a loft somewhere on the Bowery, where the Clash actually showed up.  We all danced to reggae. We were part of one of the great nights of NYC music history.  Plus, she was nice!  We became friends!

And a year or two later, we got around to forming a band.  It took forever to decide on a name, and I still don't know what it means.  But we were the Stare Kits.  Our first few rehearsals were in the brand new Parsons dorm on Union Square. Angela sang, Michael played bass, Bob played guitar.  I can't quite remember where the drum kit came from.  I think we practiced in the stairwell, or a kitchen. But when they threw us out we moved rehearsals to my apartment on 7th Avenue and 14th St.

It was the only really "nice", modern apartment I've ever had.  I was still a student at Parsons - my parents were paying the bill.  So the windows were new, the doors actually closed, stuff like that.  And there was even a kind of rock star living downstairs, Miki Zone of The Fast. (wait, was it Miki or Paul?  I think it was Paul.)

We worked up songs with Angela providing the lyrics and melodies.  She has a great voice and the rest of us were pretty minimal but with all sorts of stops and starts and rhythmic changes it was probably some of the most complicated music I've ever played.

We opened for Eight Eyed Spy at our homemade club Tier 3.  The first show was a triumph, we even got an encore.  But for some reason we never played again (except a "reunion" show one year later, where we basically repeated the same set).  We were all doing other things.  Did it really even happen?

Yes. Because when I was staying at my brother's in New York a few weeks ago, I saw a Stare Kits CD on his desk.  A live recording of the show!  And Angela sent me some photos.  We did exist. Maybe the time is right for a revival? 

Bring on the drummer jokes. 

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