Friday, December 7, 2012

Redlands California,1979: How I met David Lowery.

The lead singer / lead guitarist relationship is the classic core for myriad rock bands throughout history. David’s and my first encounter was probably not all too different from that of countless other bands, but in our case, the actual partnership did not begin for another decade or so.

Around the time of our first casual meeting, I was attending haircutting school by day (I'd heard Chuck Berry started that way) and tending bar at night for subsistence money, while living in a storage room at the back of my girlfriend's grandmother's house. I had begrudgingly concluded that I needed the proverbial "real job"…at least for a bit while I continued trying to wedge my foot into the doorway of the music world. I had heard through a friend that there was a guy named Ricky who was starting a "new wave" band. I was amazed that there was anyone else in the Inland Empire (the vast cluster of formerly thriving yet now decaying industrial cities east of Los Angeles) vaguely interested in punk and new wave. This was the era of Judas Priest and Journey. I went to suss it out, arriving at a small older house with music equipment dominating the entryway and front room. It became clear as we hung out that Ricky was looking to have some fun playing new wave covers. At this point I was more interested in writing and playing original music, but I stuck around for a bit that day anyway. At one point that afternoon, a tall slender kid with longish red hair came in with a big Fender bass. He had on a long, green military parka like the mods in England wore which made him instantly cool in my book. We shook hands and he said "Hey man, I'm David". Like me, he seemed to be walking the line between rock and roll and punk, trying to figure it all out and likely also realizing that we were a very tiny minority in The Inland Empire at that time. The three of us jammed a bit, hung out and talked about the cool music coming from the UK, punk, ska, new wave, noise rock, early goth etc. A band did not form, but I remembered that David guy. Although a few years younger than me, he was easily the hippest, most musically aware dude that I had met by that time.

Over the next year I went on to form The Dangers with Chris LeRoy, Bob Kjorvestad and an ever-changing cast of local punks on bass and drums. (Dangers blog post coming soon...) Running in the same circles of musical misfits and weirdos, David and I would occasionally cross paths. He enrolled at U.C. Santa Cruz in Northern California but came back down to Redlands on breaks, his fledgling bands like Sitting Duck sometimes playing at parties with The Dangers. He and some friends once came over to my place for a small party. David had brought a nice stack of vinyl from England where he had recently visited his mom's side of the family. I had a decent collection of American punk vinyl like Fear, The Ramones, The Germs and The Dead Kennedys, but I was impressed with Lowery's stack….many of them records that were relatively unknown and as yet unavailable stateside. We all sat around on the carpet sipping gin and limeade and listening to great bands from both sides of the Atlantic….. The Sex Pistols, The Clash, Talking Heads,The Damned, Adam and The Ants, and our beloved Buzzcocks who still influence us to this day. There were only a handful of our kind--musicians with a interest in new sounds--around Redlands then; David, Chris LeRoy, Bill "Shakespeare" McDonald (of "Where The Hell Is Bill?") fame, and me. By this time we had also met and hung out with the teenaged Victor Krummanacher and his posse of kid punks from nearby Riverside. There was also a band called The Reactors featuring Tony Fate on guitar, Mike Gonzalas on bass, and a tough-as-nails, 5-foot-tall female singer named Dash…arguably they were one of the very first punk bands in the Inland Empire, if not in all of Southern California.

In that era it was “us” against “them” ... “them" referring to the long-haired, heavy metal loving "dirt heads" as we called them. They drove by in their muscle cars jeering at us with our short spiky hair, boots and trench coats. They threw rocks at us, called us DEVO (huh?!), tried to crash our parties and kick our asses.

Despite all of this, The Dangers were writing our own songs and consistently selling out The Barn (the on-campus rock club at The University of Riverside). The anecdotal TV news stories from England about “booted hooligans” causing riots had the local PD a little amped up at the very sight of anybody dressed like us. Between the dirt heads and the party-busting cops we persevered and loved our scene all the more for the opposition. I was also playing with a hard core punk band who never could decide on a name (and who were actually billy clubbed once for not leaving our party gig fast enough once the Redlands P.D. had had enough complaints). Lucky 7 and I were popping up all over the I.E. music scene, for better or worse.

When David came back to Redlands on school breaks, we would sometimes get together at his parents’ house and play music as a casual ensemble called The Estonian Gauchos. We would swap instruments often in The Gauchos. I played drums, and David switched from bass to guitar on a lot of songs. (Few people know that he played bass guitar first and he was in fact quite good.) The Gauchos experimented with our interpretations of ska, European folk, pop, old timey country, rub-a-dub reggae, whatever felt fun. The Lowery family dog had it in for me and used to try to bite my ass for making such a noise on the drums. Like my parents, Gene and Betty, Mr. and Mrs. Lowery were encouraging of all of our musical endeavors. David and I were both very fortunate in that regard. This loose collective included David L, original CVB multi-instrumentalist Chris Molla, David McDaniel (who later gave Camper Van Beethoven their name), Mark Phillips, and me. The Gauchos were the seed that eventually grew into Camper Van Beethoven. I remember The Gauchos playing a party one evening in the Lowery back yard (naturally drawing the Redlands police). I vividly remember David's Genuine Miller Draft being angrily set down on the patio as he proclaimed "This isn't Poland…we can make as much noise as we want until ten o'clock!" Plucky and courageous….all six feet and 130 pounds of him. Dryly witty and impressively sharp he was, even in his youth. I think that moment was when I really began to love the guy. Between the wild, high speed power pop and punk of the Dangers and the innocent yet worldly musical experimentations of The Estonian Gauchos, this would become the most pivotal year of my musical journey…and this was only the beginning.

Saturday, November 24, 2012

Paying dues and don'ts: The beginnings of Lucky #7 and one rock musician's apprenticeship

Summer 1978: I was just out of my teens. My military family was leaving me behind in Southeastern California as my Dad was offered a choice last tour of duty in Hawaii. With 6 kids, it was time to kick one or two of the older ones out of the nest anyway. I'd previously left home a few times as a teenager and made a go of independence, yet was always welcomed back for a bit when things got rough. This time it was the real deal. "There is no free lunch" as my dearly departed Dad used to say. Fair enough. I soon found myself relatively broke, doing grunt construction work when I could find it to keep myself in rent, guitar strings and Top Ramen. I found lodging in a tiny, run down rental house right next to the 10 freeway in Yucaipa California. I paid rent by putting pre-fab sheet metal roofs on industrial warehouses owned by my landlord Henry. This involved a high powered drill in the 100-plus degree heat of the blazing California desert sun, for $3.00 an hour (most of which went right back to Henry). Imagine the joy. But hey, what did I care? I was young, healthy and playing guitar in a few struggling little bands at parties for beer on the weekends and flirting with pretty young girls who would buy me the occasional meal at Denny's. Ah, the resilient innocence of youth.

Just before my parents left for the tropical splendor of the 50th state they were kind enough to offer to co-sign a loan for me. They suggested a more reliable used car to replace my consistently broken down 56 VW Beetle, but of course, I had my own priorities. I'd grown tired of my first guitar and felt it was time to get a new and better one. After walking miles back and forth to the handful of music stores of nearby San Bernardino I wandered into Lopez Music. The store was down the west end of E street where my high school buddies and I had hung out on Friday and Saturday nights just a few years earlier, driving around listening to The Rolling Stones, David Bowie, Uriah Heep and ZZ Top on our 8 track tape players. After I showed Mrs. Lopez a magazine photo of a then-young Keith Richards on stage, she opened a large glass case, winked through her cat eye glasses and carefully handed me my future. It was love at first sight. I was a scrawny little long haired kid and it seemed to weigh a ton. We plugged it into an amp and I began to play.


I recall the eerie feeling that one gets upon meeting someone you inexplicably feel as if you've known forever. Not only did the riffs I already had feel and sound better but new ideas began to spark in my brain and run instantly down to my fingers. I knew then and there that I would do almost anything to have this guitar. After a pleading call to Mom, who drove down from nearby Yucaipa to meet me at the store, I left with my black 1977 Gibson Les Paul Standard which I am still playing to this day. The deal was that Mom and Dad would make the down payment, but that I was responsible for the monthly ones from then on over the next few years. Since then, over many thousands of miles, through countless joys, heartbreaks, births, deaths, trials and tribulations, old Lucky Number Seven (as Cracker fans long ago dubbed it ) has rarely left my side. I vividly remember scrambling to make my guitar payments from the meager earnings of a series of temporary construction jobs. When money got really tight a few times, my brother and I figured out a scheme to make some immediate cash. Having no working car (the Beetle's transmission had fallen apart) we began regularly hitchhiking down the 10 Freeway to San Bernardino to give blood for $12.00 a pop. These being the pre-AIDS-screening days, these blood banks were often filled with homeless guys, ex-cons and the like, looking to make some fast booze cash. Then, depending on how we felt, we would sometimes hitchhike another 20 miles to the blood bank in Fontana to do the same thing. We did this once or twice a week until Mom found out and put a stop to it all the way from Hawaii. She would have rightfully thrown her shoe at our heads if it were possible to fling it over the ocean.

During this time I worked as a bartender, an ice cream truck vendor, construction site grunt, night delivery truck driver, whatever job I could find until I was invited to join the only cover band that I have EVER joined, The Tom Harper Band. There was no Tom Harper…it was a name composed of the first syllable of each of the band members’ last names. Being the last to join I, didn't even get a syllable. (Just as well, perhaps.) These were mostly older guys who liked having the flashy, hot shot kid guitarist in the band. We would play weekends at a lodge in the mountains that the bass player's girlfriend's dad owned. He fed us dinner and sometimes let us stay in a cabin where the boozed flowed and the chicks came out of hiding once we knew he had left for the night. In retrospect, this chapter of my youth was a great learning experience for me, as the elderly proprietor wanted us to start the dinner hour playing the fluffy, light duty hits of the day like "Margaritaville.” The 5-to-7 set was a snooze fest for me. It did however teach me a lot about dynamics - the importance of being able to play at a whisper volume, then work up to wailing away like a madman as the crowds got rowdier by late night. That's when the Zep and Foghat covers came roaring out to a house full of happy, howling drunks. In general, I was loving my apprenticeship…for a while anyway. I was woodshedding at home on weekdays, writing my own riffs and songs. Unlike many of my contemporaries I really had no long term plans of ever doing anything else aside from playing music. I soon tired of the cover band/human-jukebox scene which seemed fine for my band mates (who I think just wanted to hook up with divorcees and smoke a lot of weed). I wanted …needed to go as far as I could with this guitar..... Changes would come sooner than I expected....


Monday, October 22, 2012

Drunkard's Epiphany Video

We posted the video for Drunkard's last night, here it is: Sometimes in our darkest hour, we're faced with the choice of reaching out for help or becoming our own worst enemy. The protagonist in this song is one of those guys who manages to do both at the same time. That's our friend Ferd from the Hackensaw Boys as our man of mystery, along with a few other local/Colorado friends. A lot of the people looking slightly perturbed are probably actually perturbed, as they were strangers and we were disrupting their evening beverage. Our luminous, singing 'angels' really are the ladies who sang the harmonies on Drunkard's on Tilting, Laniece and Thalia from Mama Lenny and the Remedy. Taking an about-face from the styles of the Another Road and Construction Man videos, our director Tomas went for a sort of film-noir style that I think really captured the mood of the song. After the "bouncer" threw me out, when we were filming the alley shots, two policemen came by after hearing that a guy was passed out in an alley and people were taking pictures. How's that for darkly humorous? Enjoy. (The link for sharing the YouTube video directly from Facebook or email is... http://youtu.be/11Pt04LKuN4 ).

Saturday, October 20, 2012

Blog resurrection

Dear friends...after some prodding from folks in the Crumb Nation and my band mates I've decided it's time to start putting out the occasional blog again. I’m anticipating a loose, ongoing catalog of stories and recollections that chronicle my lifer status as a musician and songwriter. Among other topics, I'll discuss some details of my 30-year-plus friendship and 20-year ongoing musical partnership with David Lowery and our formation of Cracker. I'll also try to answer questions I’ve gotten about my new 2nd solo record "Tilting", my musical side projects and more. I'll try to keep it mostly about the music, but I imagine I'll sometimes veer off into things more personal as I did when I wrote my monthly column for Scene magazine a few years ago. I'll at least try to steer clear of topics that really aren't my area of expertise. This fan base is nothing if not diverse in matters political, social and philosophical. I will try as I always do to remain respectful of all of my/our supporters. I feel honored to have your attention in the first place. I hope to shed some light on the combined creative output that resulted in all of these Cracker songs and records. I'll invite you into the vans, tour buses and backstage green rooms, rehearsal and recording studios, dimly lit hallways, 4 star hotels and squalid motels from Birmingham to Bilbao and anywhere else the ideas flowed into creative reality and/or the shenanigans ensued. I’ll try to recall the hirings, firings, the keepers and the ones who walked away. Think back to each album as I felt and experienced it and try to answer some questions you might have. With the average lifespan of a rock band spanning roughly 5 or 6 years, we've been very fortunate to say the least…Cracker have now had over two decades of thriving success and managed to stay the course on this roller coaster of a career with continued support from fans and friends like you. Thanks for your time, Johnny Hickman… (Lead guitarist, co founder, co songwriter / singer, and harmonica player for the semi-hip band of misfits known collectively as Cracker.) PS: Please make sure and click "follow" on the blog. I started setting it up months ago and then abandoned ship, so it's time to roll it back out and get my friends following. Also, to make things simpler for myself, I’ll probably disable blog comments but post each entry on Facebook. I welcome your comments on any given post and/or subject but will exercise my right to 86 you from the vicinity if you make trouble….and yes, I decide what constitutes "trouble". My blog, my party, my rules. Stay tuned for the one I’m writing right now, "Paying Dues And Don'ts.” The story of Lucky #7 and this rock musician's early seduction into this strange and wonderful career. Cheers, J

Saturday, November 19, 2011

Kickstarter thank-you and a new 2nd solo album

WOW! A huge and heartfelt THANK YOU to all 207 supporters who contributed to my Kickstarter solo record fund! We had an incredible 2 weeks....a dream come true for this totally indie, no record label havin' guitar player. Already raging in the recording studio ... So many of the songs are already written and quite a few are tracked, but I still have weeks and months to go.

I've definitely abandoned my blog for too long. I have bits and pieces of things that I've started on my laptop but I just haven't taken the time to sit down and publish them or set up this blog the way I'd like. Mostly all I want to do is book studio days. As many days as I can, to get this 2nd Johnny Hickman solo album going before Cracker touring hits in December, spring, and all sweltering summer.

For now I'm posting most of my thoughts on Facebook and will resurrect this blog when the record gets a lot farther along. Thanks again everyone for DOUBLING my fund raising goal! Gratefully and humbly yours,  Johnny

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Hickman-Dalton Gang Vol. II, release party, videos!

Hello friends, although I don't really blog here on a regular basis I do plan to bring the blog back to life in the next year or so. In addition to Cracker and my plans to get another solo album off the ground, many of my fans know that I also have a country side project with my Colorado buddy Jim Dalton. As many of you know I lived in Bakersfield for a while and am a big fan of Johnny Cash, Waylon Jennings, Willie Nelson, etc. I guess that releasing Cracker Countrysides with David back in 2003 wasn't enough to get the country out of my system. It's in my blood and so it's been great to have a fellow country-loving collaborator to work with when I'm home from the road.

Jim and I released The Hickman-Dalton Gang Volume I CD back in 2006, and I'm proud to say we found the time to record another album, The Hickman-Dalton Gang Volume II and it's available on CD, iTunes, Amazon, etc. today! Our sound is very much old-school, alt- or outlaw country to me, nothing like the slick stuff that comes out of Nashvegas. Hickman-Dalton Gang may not be every Cracker fan's cup of tea if you aren't a country music fan, but if you dig the twangy side of Cracker, I invite you to check this side project out.

We will be having a CD release party at the Soiled Dove Underground in Denver on July 1st and I hope to see some of you there. No news on other shows or the videos we keep talking about making, because Jim is so busy with Roger Clyne and the Peacemakers, and of course I have a ton of Cracker dates on the books as well.

Update: December 6, 2011: Back in November we had a HDG hootenanny featuring Jim Dalton, yours truly, Jeremy Lawton, Tony Nascar, Chris "Pelon" Helvey and guest Jimmy Stelling. We invited about 75 friends and folks from the FoCo music scene, my wife and our friends made a great spread of food, and we rolled in kegs of New Belgium and other liquid treats. Fort Collins film maker Tomas Herrera captured it all on film for the video to "Construction Man," a song from Hickman-Dalton Gang Volume II. It was pure lighthearted whiskey-infused fun in the sun. Check out on YouTube, out today!

Saturday, August 1, 2009

"Uncle Johnny's Tips for Musicians" (Scene) August 2009

Update: This entry is from my column that originally appeared in the Northern Colorado entertainment magazine The Scene. While I'm not doing this column anymore, I'm still as involved as I can be in the Fort Collins area music scene in general.
This edition’s topic: Art is FREE. WHEE!

I'm not going to pretend to be an economist. I’ve already shared some theories on why our country is in financial decline, and who knows if I’m right. But right now I’m in a somewhat obsessive phase of reading world history, especially the history of Stalinist Russia. I’ve begun to think that one very disturbing symptom of decline may be people’s gradual numbness to art itself. In this regard, the internet is the modern miracle that is simultaneously saving and destroying us.

It’s hard to say whether the internet has done more economic harm than good. I would think harm, but I honestly can’t say. While it has put millions of travel agents, car salesmen and realtors, etc. out of business, I’m sure it has also provided some jobs, exposed more people to global concerns, and let people telecommute, among other positive things.

This nation was once a major exporter of goods in the world. Now, not so much. American workers have earned themselves a reputation for being lazy, most everything is made overseas, and mega-corporations constantly price-set and put local competition out of business. I meet more and more people who are employees in retail, and fewer who are business owners or who actually manufacture something. I ask: what exactly are we making here in the United States that the world is interested in buying anymore? And for that matter, what are we making that WE are interested in buying? Our spoiled and selfish consumers favor quantity over quality, and seem to gleefully use the internet to pirate that which they can’t legitimately find for free.

New movie coming out? Buy it? Dude....you can burn it...for FREE! WHEE! Music? Get it FREE! WHEE! Piracy “feels” less dishonest than shoplifting, even though it’s not. Consumers are totally desensitized to the effects of their own behavior. For those that bother to compare and pay attention to the lessons of history, today’s commodity-hunger and devaluation of art are eerily similar to what happened to Rome. That super-power ate itself up in a hedonistic orgy of food, sex and entertainment. And after the implosion of a society, it is usually left to some restrictive regime to pick up the pieces.

Music, art and literature were once highly valuable commodities in the United States. Now writers, artists and musicians here are vying for any attention they can garner.....for FREE!! WHEE! Ask most young people today if they believe they should pay for fine art, literature and music and they will look puzzlingly at you. Who can blame them? It’s there – FREE! WHEE! Many young, budding musicians I know give away music that cost them to make, somewhat reluctantly, but their attitude is “that’s the only way to promote it anymore.” Sometimes their self-promotion pays off, sometimes not. The diminishing desire to create art that gives voice to the pains and desires of a society is part of the decline of that society. The concept of the starving artist is somewhat romantic for a while, but artists have dignity too and want to get a fair reward for their work. Authors have mortgages and actors have car payments just like everyone else. Art for art’s sake is a lovely idea, but one still has to eat. If this trend continues, the result could very well be a society that has its arts completely funded and hence dictated by its government, much like the art of other countries throughout history. If that happens, the handful of remaining artists will end up on government payroll, which will certainly lead to two things. One, the art they produce will be created in an atmosphere of fear of job loss and will grow ever more stale and predictable. Two, art will most assuredly NOT be FREE!! WHEE!! Does undervaluing the arts still sound inexpensive? Uncle Johnny, over and out.

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

"Uncle Johnny's Tips for Musicians" (Scene) July 2009

Update: This entry is from my column that originally appeared in the Northern Colorado entertainment magazine The Scene. While I'm not doing this column anymore, I'm still as involved as I can be in the Fort Collins area music scene in general.

This edition’s topic: The Glamorous Sound of Eco-touring

Today’s topic arises as the result of a well-intentioned, blonde dreadlocked music fan who wobbly Birkenstocked up to me at a recent festival and asked, “Hey, man, what is your band doing to keep your tours green? I mean do you guys buy offsets to help with the carbon footprint?” “No, we don’t,” I said immediately. She looked shocked. Well, shocked, and a little bloodshot, and somewhat disappointed. I tried to explain.

Regarding the mucho-hyped carbon offsets, I feel compelled to put things into a pragmatic perspective. A little background: The idea of carbon offsets is not brand new (but maybe not familiar to everyone). Per Wikipedia, “In the … voluntary market, individuals, companies, or governments purchase carbon offsets to mitigate their own greenhouse gas emissions from transportation, electricity use, and other sources.” You buy an “offset,” and with that money, you support some ecologically P.C. groovy project like a solar or wind farm. (Is it just me or is this a little bit like going to an O2 bar to offset the lung damage done by smoking a pack and a half of Camel Lights a day? Basically, you are just fining yourself for touring.) But don’t get me wrong. Bands who buy carbon offsets are doing something important for the greater good, and I commend them for doing so. At least it’s honest, for it acknowledges that our industry pollutes (most do). Dave Matthews, Phish, The Dead, they’re all buying offsets and sponsoring clean energy, and I am proud that they are. Bear in mind though, that they do this in part to inspire others, not just musicians, but fans who are insurance adjusters and company CFOs. The point of these bands using their fame “for good” is to remind everyone that our travels make an impact.

Unfortunately my band (and in actuality the vast majority of bands) just don’t tour at the level of Dave or The Dead. Some of our friends are still crossing the map with two giant buses (at 6-8 MPG), one for band and one for gear. They SHOULD be buying carbon offsets. When they do, it’s because they can afford to. We tour nationally at a much more modest level. Trying to make a profit during this recession, Cracker tours in a single Sprinter van that gets over 20MPG even with a heavy gear trailer. When we arrive in a city after a 5 to 8 hour drive every day, our legs and asses are asleep and we have had almost NO sleep, but may I point out, we are leaving a much smaller eco-footprint. We recycle. Some of us are vegetarians. We play “sustainable living” fairs, and as individuals we give money to green charities when we can and still afford to keep going. But our business requires that we travel. CD sales are a fraction of what they used to be for EVERY band, so survival equals touring. A videoconference or podcast of a show just doesn’t give our fans that vibrating-through-the-floorboards, smell of the beer that just got dumped on the guy next to them, live in-concert feeling. We can really only pollute less by touring less, and by not making a living and not bringing our live show to the fans that sustain us. So until Ben and Jerry’s gives us our own flavor (Cracker Surprise with Whiskey, Milk & Honey?), or the industry reinvents itself in a big way, we will keep doing the many little things we hope will add up to helping sustain the earth, just as we hope our fans will do, even if we can’t publicly boast that our exhaust paid for an entire wind farm in Wyoming.

To learn about the many ways bands can tour more responsibly, and how fans can help, one great site is reverbrock.org (started by the folks from Guster). A final fact, from the Dogwood Alliance website, says that 80% of a concert’s carbon footprint comes from fans’ commutes. Hey dreadlock girl, wherever you are, I trust you walked or carpooled to that festival. Or perhaps you bought a carbon offset instead of that extra bag of “herb.” My only advice to friends and readers is this: do everything you can to fight global warming and social ills, but don’t waste time feeling guilty about things that are out of your hands. If you are doing your part, you are ahead of many who just don’t care.

Footnote: My wife and personal editor would like me to point out that we know Wikipedia is not a “real” source, but, this is not a New York Times column, either. This is college-town entertainment publishing, and Uncle Johnny is just fine with that, over and out.

Friday, May 1, 2009

"Uncle Johnny's Tips for Musicians" (Scene) May 2009

Update: This entry is from my column that originally appeared in the Northern Colorado entertainment magazine The Scene. While I'm not doing this column anymore, I'm still as involved as I can be in the Fort Collins area music scene in general.

This edition’s topic:
A few words

Hello Fort Collins! Short column this month; I had considered not submitting anything at all due to time constraints, but I wanted to give a few props before summer insanity hits.

I was so impressed with the bands and the organization that went into our city’s first Fort Collins Music Experiment! We enjoyed two great nights out and I got to see a few local artists I’d only heard about. Take it from this happily weary, 25 year alt-rock veteran...Northern Colorado has one of the best locals scenes I’ve ever seen, much less been a part of. I hope FOCOMX grows every year, and thank you FOCOMA for supporting local music. It’s been an honor to be part of it.

Creating support for musicians at the local level is so important...without a local fan base, bands have nothing to build on. With the recession still in full swing, local music fills a community need for affordable and quality entertainment, to say nothing of the tremendous release that a night of musical escape from the day-to-day grind can provide to the soul and the spirit. So, folks, consider it your civic duty to hoist a few drinks in front of your favorite local band whenever possible! That said, I will be away from the Fort a lot this year.

My band Cracker has a new album coming out on May 5th. As my fellow musicians know, touring during a recession means more legwork and more dates, fewer patio lunches in Old Town, less time with friends and family. Summer can be grueling, but, this is what we do. We had an amazing time recording the Cracker album and I hope to bring tales of the road back home. We had great guest musicians on this record, like Patterson Hood, John Doe, and Adam Duritz. Due to a tight recording schedule, I didn’t bring home any tales of debauchery from the sessions, but if we spend any time with these characters on the road this summer, you had better believe that there will be adventures and misadventures to share. I will try to make time to write about them between festivals, long drives, hangovers and layovers!

Here’s to a fine summer, Uncle Johnny.

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

"Uncle Johnny's Tips for Musicians" (Scene) April 2009

Update: This entry is from my column that originally appeared in the Northern Colorado entertainment magazine The Scene. While I'm not doing this column anymore, I'm still as involved as I can be in the Fort Collins area music scene in general.

This edition’s topic:
Uncle Johnny: MyBook SpaceFace!

Welcome to the world of “web thingies,” as my friend Brian calls them. Brian is a respected music business attorney in Los Angeles who, like many of us, feels a bit conflicted about the relatively new, blurred paradigm of web communication, networking and f____g off.
As I sit here feeling guilty about neglecting my MySpace “friends” and spending far too much time perusing mildly amusing but basically useless stuff on FaceBook, I hope to steal a moment to weigh the worth myself. Where have all my moments gone? While I admit to enjoying what I see as the positive aspects of the web thingies (reconnecting with old friends like Brian, advertising my band’s gigs), I don’t even want to think about what a time sucking vortex these technologies are.

For those of us fortunate enough to have a spare moment in these challenging times of economic catastrophe, the “thingies” pull us in and take those moments away. So that we can do what, share pertinent information such as our 25 favorite albums of all time, I guess.

How ever did we survive without these wonderful new communications miracles? Powerful indeed, they have even managed to create a new elitist lingo. “Oh..are you still using MySpace? How quaint! The rest of us were using Twitter but have since moved on to Splitter or perhaps Shitter!” Where does it end? Does it end? Will we all be sharing the apocalypse experience in darkly humorous, rapid-fire anecdotes as Rome burns?

Maybe I, modern guitar-Nero, will be sitting on my roof with a Les Paul and miniature amplifier, maniacally typing to you all between riffs until the wireless server shuts down for the last time.

Wait!...what am I doing writing this inane article? I have to check in on my “friends!”

Thanks to SpaceFace, I’ve now witnessed the end of more than one relationship, the details of which were sadly displayed across the screen for many “friends” to see. It is odd enough knowing these details about “friends.” It is even sadder reading these public proclamations about real, long-term friends and their personal pitfalls.

How will I respond? Privately or publicly? How will I keep track? Hmm...Note to self: Create new folders for friends vs. “friends.” Then I can get back to those bothersome secondary tasks such as eating, sleeping, working and caring for family. With any luck, my life will be made even easier when next year’s thingy automatically scrolls right across the inside lenses of my glasses so I can see what everyone’s favorite movies are as I get dressed and make breakfast! That will give me back so much of the time I’m now losing. I can’t wait!

Uncle Johnny, over and out

Sunday, February 1, 2009

"Uncle Johnny's Tips for Musicians" (Scene) February 2009

Update: This entry is from my column that originally appeared in the Northern Colorado entertainment magazine The Scene. While I'm not doing this column anymore, I'm still as involved as I can be in the Fort Collins area music scene in general.

This edition’s topic: Ambassadors of the U.S.A.: My Minority Neighbor and Me

I have a “minority” neighbor that I have nothing but contempt for. He represents everything I can’t stand about his kind. They feel threatened when anyone outside of their minority group seems to be advancing socially, financially or politically. Throughout history these people have been known to resort to violence to quell said advancements when propaganda and fear mongering do not do the trick. I’m talking of course about the last holdouts of thinly cloaked racists that disguise themselves as patriots and good God-fearing folk. They organize into hate groups, hiding in basements and back rooms to wallow in their stagnant fear of change. They wave the flag and blindly assume that every military action our nation takes is right and just, be it the battle with Hitler or backing blood thirsty dictators like General Pinochet or Saddam Hussien (Yes, before we killed him, we were Saddam’s ally). On Election Day, my obviously frustrated and hateful neighbor adorned his camper with an obscene sticker defaming our handsome and dignified president. His vehicles are already covered with bumper stickers that read “Can’t feed ‘em, don’t breed ‘em” and “Real Americans don’t press two.” Gee, I wonder how he really feels about immigrants. You know, those people who built the entire nation? What he seems to have forgotten is that the quintessential “real” American can barely be defined, given our diverse population made up of so many proud “foreigners.” Really, it’s only those a**holes like him that I’d rather not claim as my fellow Americans.

As traveling musicians, my band mates and I see a great deal of this country. We meet fantastic people of every age, race, and political persuasion. We also have the opportunity to get a firsthand perspective on how the rest of the world sees us. It’s been a rough last few years, touring internationally. Constantly having to defeat the image of the rude “ugly American” tourist who demands “Texas sized” portions and starts every sentence with “Well back in the STATES,…(they just GIVE you ice water / we don’t PUT up with riff-raff / we just take the FREEWAY / whatever...doesn’t anyone speak ENGLISH here?)” Unfortunately, foreigners I’ve chatted with seem to believe that folks like my neighbor ARE the common citizens over here. How did this guy’s small-minded set become the mental image of “American” for so many people? I don’t get it. Maybe the press, maybe the internet have magnified their presence. Most foreigners I met on the last couple of tours didn’t like our government either, so I would often find myself on the defensive end of a polite but opinionated set of questions. As a musician, you go on tour wanting to just do your job, share your music, meet people. You want to be proud of America’s artists, thinkers, and humanitarians, our frequent acts of aid to others in need throughout the last decades which are more than most other nations combined. But, again, the last few years have been tough for selling the assets of America to worldly folks who are usually much more aware of world politics than we are. All I could ever do was try to set a good example, be polite and unassuming, as another individual ambassador for my country.

May the next four or eight years see the global opinion of us change, as the haters here continue to slowly fade into the sunset and the “real” America continues on its path to healing and accepting responsibility for our actions. In my opinion, our new president perfectly represents the best of his constituency. Though his presidential track record remains to be set, he at least seems passionately devoted to working toward the common good of all people. Which is certainly more than I can say about my “minority” neighbor. (May he and his kind go the way of the dinosaurs.) Next time I tour overseas, I’d like to just do my job—entertaining—without feeling the need to apologize on every street corner.

Uncle Johnny, over and out.

Thursday, January 1, 2009

"Uncle Johnny's Tips for Musicians" (Scene) January 2009

Update: This entry is from my column that originally appeared in the Northern Colorado entertainment magazine The Scene. While I'm not doing this column anymore, I'm still as involved as I can be in the Fort Collins area music scene in general.

This edition’s topic: When You Hate the Audience

Okay, that’s a bit of a harsh headline and deserves some clarification. Let me preface this rant by saying that 95% of the audience members I’ve had the pleasure performing for over the years have been wonderful in every way, making me more than happy to shake hands, sign CDs, take pictures and have a beer with them. A couple of my best friends are people I met at shows. Not only do I feel honored and lucky as hell to have the opportunity to play for these people, but they also pay my bills and keep our band in business. I could do a lot worse.

Still, there are those nights and those people who make it tough to be nice. I’m referring to the audience members who by virtue of being drunk or just plain socially impaired throw a wrench into the machinery of an otherwise great gig. Let’s refer to them as “gig clowns.” I’m speaking for all performers as well as for the concert going fan in all of us here because these people are disrupting everyone’s enjoyment, aren’t they? Many of you will recognize these clowns. Maybe you have BEEN one of these clowns. If so, stop reading and go back to drinking your cheap swill beer and annoying your soon-to-be-ex-roommate.

OK, everybody gets maybe one or two lifetime “passes” to be this character, limited mostly to your 21st birthday and the weekend after your marriage breaks up. But some of these audience members are obviously career troublemakers. These characters are overwhelmingly male and usually wasted. Sometimes it’s innocent clumsiness, other times it’s your basic, attention seeking, ego deprived “Look at me!” assholeness. These are the guys that wait for a quiet, intense point in a song to yell something brilliantly original like “This chick is SO F___ING HOT!” They are sure their public display of appreciation for a neighboring fan will win them a date. The proper retort (stated loudly over the microphone) is of course “Yes, she is, and NOW she knows you’re an idiot.”

Another gig clown sighting: I like Halloween as much as anyone. Unfortunately, through the years Halloween has been bleeding over to the preceding and following days and weekends, a sort of Halloween Season. Some people apparently use donning a costume as an excuse to be complete jackasses. This year, a few days after Halloween, I was onstage with my musical cohorts about halfway through a somber, quiet song. The audience was silently attentive. Suddenly two morons wearing the stale, oh-how-2-years-ago “My Dick In A Box” costumes forced their way down front. Lousy timing aside, these guys were clueless. Gyrating and clunking their boxes into female audience members, they raised more than a few angry eyebrows. Finishing the song, I almost yelled: “Hey..this girl down here just told me those boxes are WAY too big for your ‘junk’...anybody got a spare ring box?” But, I resisted. Why reward them with attention? Dogs, toddlers, drunk idiots. The rules for dealing with them are often the same.

One of my favorite gig clown scenarios is the pitiable soul who keeps yelling for a song you have already played. He may have been in the restroom hurling his unwise schnapps and beer combinations or out having a smoke when the song went down. He has been told this by exasperated people in his vicinity but continues to bellow like a beached walrus in search of a mate he will never find. Sometimes the walrus accepts defeat and slinks away grumbling. Sometimes however, he waits, wobbling in his misguided, booze addled fury until the rest of the crowd has left and the gear is being packed up. The bouncers are close to 86ing him but he feels forthright in his indignation. At this point (sorry) I find him amusing and proceed to taunt him like a cat toying with a huge drunken mouse. It goes like this: He sees me poke my head out of the backstage area. “Hey man...you guys didn’t play blurberblurber!!” He yells between hiccups, his finger pointing in circles around the spinning room of his reality. “Yes we did!” I giggle and pull my head back in, closing the door. “NOOOO YOU DIDN’T JJJOHNNY! MAAAN, I PAID TO HEAR Mother f.....n BBRRRRUBLBBRUB!!” He throws down his beer can and begins to pound on the backstage door as my fellow band members laugh and shake their heads at my sadistic pleasure. As I hear the security guys leading him swearing and swerving towards the exit, I stick my head out and yell “Okay man.....we’re gonna play it right now!” and walk towards the stage with my guitar. You can imagine the scene as the side door closes behind our poor walrus. I sincerely apologize to this gentleman if he’s out there and recognizes himself in this story.....well.....actually, I don’t.

Uncle Johnny, over and out.

Saturday, November 1, 2008

"Uncle Johnny's Tips for Musicians" (Scene) November 2008

Update: This entry is from my column that originally appeared in the Northern Colorado entertainment magazine The Scene. While I'm not doing this column anymore, I'm still as involved as I can be in the Fort Collins area music scene in general.

This edition’s topic: On Tour... Election 08

Wait, I know you’re feeling up to your ears in it but let’s take another quick look anyway, shall we? My God, what a simultaneously odd and wonderful freak show this is. CNN footage of drooling, monosyllabic racists aside, this race is almost amusing. I am in a North Carolina hotel room watching Larry King Live as he and guest commentator Bill Maher watch the NY Diocese Al Smith memorial charity dinner. Here they are, America. The two presidential candidates joyfully clowning one another like some late night commercial for the Dean Martin Celebrity Roasts DVDs. I half expect 60s comedienne Ruth Buzi to come flying out of the wings to beat both of them with her purse. Part of me is wishing she would.

Forget Joe the Plumber who’s not a plumber, come on over to my front lawn and ask ME what’s on my mind! Hey...I’m a just a guitar player (really...unlike Joe I have my union card!), but I have a reasonably valid question: What in the flying f---- is going on here? Isn’t the country on the verge of collapsing from within? What are these guys doing sipping chardonnay and chortling at one another’s one-liners in their white bow ties while Rome burns?

Well, at least they have their senses of humor. Personally my votes lean Left with a few small Rightish tendencies, so I can snicker when SNL or others lampoon all four ticket members... And boy is there grist for that mill or what? Moose Mommy verbally stumbling through speeches in ways that make “W” look almost worldly in retrospect. SHE COULD BE PRESIDENT! Like many of you I’m afraid, but trying to enjoy the circus anyway. However, in this year of historic political tensions I’m a little uncomfortable laughing. Sort of like my days working in a mortuary, when yes, we had to joke occasionally or we would have lost our minds.

Pardon me while I think back to a more carefree election season. My band, Cracker, was invited to play at one of Bill Clinton’s most pivotal campaign rallies in Atlanta. A proud moment, a proud year. As I walked up for my token souvenir snapshot with Bill, I remember complimenting his resplendent suit. Instead of a simple “thank you,” he grinned knowingly and winked. I felt right there that the then-unsubstantiated rumors about his “PLAYA” ways were true. Bill had it goin’ on and knew it, big time. It was a surreal day, the grandeur, the left and the right “making nice,” the daughter of a prominent senator at the bar, tipsily attempting to say “hello” by biting my neck (while secret service types hovered yards away with eyebrows raised). Even in my post-show, gin and tonic haze, I felt trouble looming. I split through a side entrance feeling like an extra in a Bond flick. Interesting times indeed. Rock and roll decadence on a campaign trail budget. Indie/alt rock was blossoming into its heyday. We had an album out on a big label. Rock the Vote was huge, and we were proud to be part of it. Good times. Sigh.

Fifteen years later... the major labels (many of whom deserved it) are all but gone. For better and for worse, we now have the digital revolution. We can reach wider audiences. Of course, many of them think our life’s work, our music, should be downloadable, free, like the wind. Will they come work for me for free? Hey man, come on over and make Cracker a free pizza! (Sorry, another rant for another day). Probably three quarters of the bands that were together when my band was at its peak are no more. But here we are, thankfully, still going strong, willing to work longer hours with higher overhead to bring our music to fans and our paychecks home. We hope that even as recession threatens, people will always need live music to rejuvenate. We musicians, like everyone else, just hope to weather the ongoing storm.

To my fellow working musicians, I offer this bit of optimism: whatever the fallout from this historic election, whatever recession or changes in world politics these times bring, we all need to keep doing what we do best. Creating and entertaining. Even during The Great Depression of the 1930s the clubs and speakeasies were full of people downing prohibition booze and listening to live music to forget their woes. If the election goes against our wishes, may we write the best blues we ever wrote. Punk rock. Protest songs. Melancholy instrumentals. Regardless of how the election tips, let’s make the feel-good songs of the season, so the fans whose candidate triumphed can dance on the discarded lawn placards of the other side. WHEEEE!!! Those whose candidate lost can slip into the comforting Friday night ritual of wine, whisky and song. Same as it ever was.

Uncle Johnny, over and out.

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

"Uncle Johnny's Tips for Musicians" (Scene) October 2008

Update: This entry is from my column that originally appeared in the Northern Colorado entertainment magazine The Scene. While I'm not doing this column anymore, I'm still as involved as I can be in the Fort Collins area music scene in general.

This edition’s topic: Uncle Johnny Answers Your Questions
This month I've decided to answer some of the questions sent to my MySpace* account. Thanks especially to Morst and Amy.

Q) What do you eat/drink to stay healthy on the road? A) I drink a lot of water and try to eat well as often as possible. Some of us like to have a cocktail here and there (wow! what a surprise!) and I try to balance out the erratic sleep hours and alcohol with rest, re-hydration and a healthy diet. I'm so thankful for tours where we play college or hippie-centric towns, because the fare tends to be healthier. Unlike those long drives through the Midwest, where sad bands can be seen wolfing down Hostess Cupcakes or Pop Tarts in gas station parking lots. I try to eat my biggest meal of the day a few hours before the show (it's hard to sing with a full stomach) and I eat little or nothing after-show. (This helps me sleep better.)

Q) What music do you listen to on the road? A) Depends on my mood like anybody I guess. Sometimes I can't stand listening to rock music because I play it myself every night. Other days I can't get enough, especially if it's something new that I'm obsessed with. I really like Backyard Tire Fire, Beck and The White Stripes. From the old school I listen to Bob Dylan, Neil Young, The Pixies, The Smiths, Pink Floyd, and the Rolling Stones. To relax or escape from a bad day, I listen to Dead Can Dance, Bonnie Prince Billy or Nick Drake.

Q) Do you listen to music when you're trying to get inspired to write music for your next project? What else is inspiring? A) Sometimes, but the new music I come up with almost never ends up sounding like what I've listened to. Sometimes simply listening to any music can get you in the mood to write. I come up with a lot of rough ideas on the road but it's a challenge to finish anything. I need some solitude for that to happen and there is not much solitude there. I often hand whatever guitar riffs I've come up with to my partner in Cracker, David Lowery. He's a great songwriter and a lot more prolific than I am. Peter Buck from R.E.M. once told me that when he tries too hard nothing happens. He gets his best musical ideas just sitting and watching something like a baseball game on television with a guitar in is hands not really paying that much attention. Strangely, I often come up with music when I have a fever. The fall is good, so I'm glad Cracker is recording this fall and winter. The Canadian Geese that start flying overhead here in the Colorado fall never fail to give me a strange creative melancholy. I like their cacophonous honking. It's musical chaos, but in a good way. If I had to translate this into advice, I'd say don't bother with what works for others. If inspiration strikes, make the time somehow.

Q) So, is the whole "groupie" thing a reality, and if so, how do you react to it? A) Every band has their stories.... I myself happily take pictures and flirt a little with "friendly" fans. The aggressive, really drunk or scary types, we generally let the club deal with. For those who don't take the "Thank you, but I'm happily married" hint, I have a few stock responses. I reach for my cell phone and ask them, "Let's call my wife. Maybe it will be OK with her?" Or I ask if they would like to help move some amps please, or perhaps do my laundry. No takers yet….

Q) What are the best and worst things about playing in a band? A) To me one of the worst things is the physical toll the traveling takes. Being away from family and friends can be a disorienting, difficult and lonely experience. Living out of a suitcase is something I've been doing for most of my adult life, but it still sucks sometimes. For me the best aspects are playing shows, knowing you are a part of people's lives. I love meeting new people every day. Another great thing is waking up in that hotel room somewhere and remembering that I make music for a living. When things get rough I silently remind myself that I don't have to do this. I GET to do this.

Uncle Johnny, over and out.

Johnny Hickman is the co founder and lead guitarist for the band Cracker. Info at www.JohnnyHickman.com, Crackersoul.com.
*Update: FYI, I really don't check my MySpace anymore.

Monday, September 1, 2008

"Uncle Johnny's Tips for Musicians" (Scene) September 2008

Update: This entry is from my column that originally appeared in the Northern Colorado entertainment magazine The Scene. While I'm not doing this column anymore, I'm still as involved as I can be in the Fort Collins area music scene in general.

This edition’s topic: Why Do We Do This?

As musicians, we’ve all asked ourselves this. It’s a pragmatic and valid question. Let’s start with a few negatives that theoretically should stop us before we even entertain any aspirations of playing music professionally: The odds of actually earning a living as musicians are stacked overwhelmingly against us. The music business in general has scaled down to roughly one third of what it used to be only a decade ago and shows no sign of fully recuperating. The overhead cost of performing and touring is soaring due to high fuel costs and a troubled economy. Even devoting the time to hone your skills is a never-ending challenge, unless you are independently wealthy or you have no other life at all. – I’ve been in the latter category a few times and admit so unabashedly.

We know the odds, yet still we gather in someone’s garage or cramped rehearsal space to forge ahead with our goals to “make it.” Every year a handful of bands do just that. They somehow acquire decent instruments, write, rehearse and play their collective asses off. They earn a fan base, get the attention of one of the remaining record labels, and manage to get a deal. From the point of view of someone who has been through that music biz gristmill several times…if you really believe in yourself and feel you have something to offer to the music fans of the world, never give up. There were several times in my life when I put my guitar down in frustration and went back to “regular” jobs after yet another failed attempt or dead end. Each time I was miserable, until I got back in the game at least on some level. I know that someday, I will likely opt out again. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, knowing it will all end, but it’s reality. The average life span of a band is six years. We’ve gone eighteen with Cracker. Nonstop. The odds are stacked against any one band making it AND especially, against that success lasting. So why do I do this? Why do any of us do this?

I remember reading a quote from a musician long ago that went something like this: “Anyone who says they did not start a band to get laid is lying.” Although it may hold some truth, that’s a rather presumptuous take. I can honestly say that I started playing the guitar and hanging out with musicians when I was “pre-pubescent,” and it was as a direct result of what I heard on the radio. I knew I wanted to make those sounds. I was only seven when I first picked up a guitar. It wasn’t until I was around thirteen or fourteen that I had the first inklings of understanding that music-carnal connection. I was playing with eighteen and nineteen-year-old guys who made me stand in the back because they were a little embarrassed by the “kid”. Pretty girls swarmed them after we played, as my dad came to pick me up in the family station wagon. I remember Dad’s knowing look as he scoped out the scene and his words of concern as we drove away, all of it ignored as the music in my head cranked and my thoughts drifted to ways to look a little older and cooler NEXT gig.

What it all boils down to is this. If you were meant to make music in your life, then you will. There simply is no other choice. You will suffer all manner of hardship, indignity, confusion, broken relationships, and frustration. This goes for the successful and unsuccessful among us. It’s a mysterious and bumpy elevator ride and you will hit every floor. Learn from what’s there or get out and slink back down the stairwell with your tail between your legs. Remember this: John Lennon was raised by his aunt Mimi who told him, “Music is a wonderful thing but it will never make you a living.” He lived in squalor with his mates, and ate beans on toast every day until he “made it.” He eventually framed his aunt’s words and hung them on the wall of one of his splendid homes. When my own father, a.k.a. “The Colonel,” tried to encourage me to join the military for the hundredth time, my humble response paraphrased another adage, “If I have something to fall back on, I just might.” After that Dad slowly began supporting my musical aspirations wholeheartedly. Now, I admit, I might advise that my own sons and nephews actually have something to fall back on. Given those pesky odds, I know that even with sheer determination, talent, and a huge dose of timing and luck, it won’t always work out. But, if music is not your primary passion, forget it. And while I don’t have my youthful, hubris-stoked statement framed on my wall, I do have it echoing in the back of my mind when I contemplate the realities of the precarious life I have chosen. I take it one day and one step at a time. So far so good.

Uncle Johnny, over and out.

Friday, August 1, 2008

"Uncle Johnny's Tips for Musicians" (Scene) August 2008

Update: This entry is from my column that originally appeared in the Northern Colorado entertainment magazine The Scene. While I'm not doing this column anymore, I'm still as involved as I can be in the Fort Collins area music scene in general.

This edition’s topic: Hotel Life

I’ve been practically living in hotels for around twenty-five years. My nightly accommodations run the gamut from splendid historic European establishments to filthy dives that my friend Jared calls "touch nothing" motels. And in between, chains like Comfort Quality 8 Inn, varying immensely in both "Quality" and "Comfort." I implore you or your tour manager, research. Some are fine at $49 but I’ve run horrified from places in the $100 range, wanting to douse myself and my belongings with rubbing alcohol. The reviews at Hotels.com and other sites are a Godsend of recent years. Here are a few more tips to make your stay in Dullsville, Ohio a little less stressful.

1. You DID WHAT?! Hotels will often give your room away if you arrive late. Of course, being a musician, you will often arrive late because you GET OFF WORK AT 3 AM! Have reservation numbers ready to shove under their noses, and check in pre-show whenever possible.

2. Become The Things In The Lobby! Most desk clerks are efficient and courteous. When they are not…. I’ve learned to deal with self-important, big city hipster hotel staff in my own way. Scenario: The smarmy clerks are fawning over a long line of resplendently dressed business types and ignore the (ugh)....musicians with guitars and backpacks. You are late for an interview and/or sound check. Be what they fear most! Become...THE THINGS IN THE LOBBY! Start by peeling a banana. Lie down en masse on a pile of your gear and bags. Put your feet up on the faux leather ottoman. Feign sleep. Don’t get thrown out, just be the friendly, smiling eyesore. You’ll be in your rooms in minutes.

3. The Sharp-Dressed Man. Living out of a suitcase, I occasionally arrive to find the iron was stolen and never replaced. Hanging clothes to steam on the shower rod gets you soaked clothes. I hang my things behind the shower head using my own roll of packing tape and plastic hanger. I emerge looking like I stayed at the Hilton.

4. Knock Knock...houseKEEPing! (Dealing with sadistic hotel maids.) I know these people have unpleasant, low-paying jobs with slave-driving bosses. Give them the benefit of the doubt...at first. Most are sweet hard working folk but some are uncaring and laugh at the "Do not disturb" sign you placed on the door at 3 a.m. They yell to one another outside your door at 7. They rap on it every 5 minutes, loudly chirping that one phrase like a screwdriver in your ear, even after you try to explain that you got to sleep 4 hours earlier and prearranged a late check out. First, call the front desk. If you are ignored, all bets are off. When the maid comes to torture you again, be ready! If you are not already naked, become so immediately. If your hair is not already a tangled mess, make it one. Distort your face into that of a homicidal maniac and yank the door open wide, roaring and staggering like a wild animal with a tranquilizer dart protruding from its neck. The last time I employed this tactic the offending maid crossed herself and muttered “oh no!” as she scurried away. I slept like a baby till noon.

Uncle Johnny, over and out.

Tuesday, July 1, 2008

"Uncle Johnny's Tips for Musicians" (Scene) July 2008

Update: This entry is from my column that originally appeared in the Northern Colorado entertainment magazine The Scene. While I'm not doing this column anymore, I'm still as involved as I can be in the Fort Collins area music scene in general.

This edition’s topic: air travel.

Greetings fellow NOCO musicians! I’ve had the good fortune of touring the globe with my band Cracker for about 18 years now, and Scene has asked me to share some tips with those of you new to the world of the traveling musician. In May, airlines began charging a fee for checking a second piece of luggage. Research online, and you’ll find that fees vary from $10 to $50 each way. So far Delta is the only airline to state publicly that in addition to the standard "one carry on and one small personal item" we working musicians can also carry on a guitar or smaller-sized instrument. I recently flew Delta to Atlanta and back and they were very cool, happily allowing me to carry my ancient, beloved Les Paul onto the plane. Remember that smaller aircraft often don’t have the overhead space for guitars, basses and other instruments. In short: call ahead, make sure you won’t be forced to gate-check your baby in a soft case, and book a seat near the back to increase your odds of getting that overhead space. Happy travels!

Suggestions for next month’s topic? Send a request at www.myspace.com/johnnyhickmanmusic *
* Update: Johnny doesn't really check his MySpace anymore either.

Monday, November 5, 2007

johnnyhickman.com road blog 13

3 am....Nov. 4th 07 Sitting here in the wee hours at out hotel in Lawrence Kansas. Great show tonight...a very attentive audience which is my polite way of saying that people were listening very closely to the quieter songs and not talking to loudly during them. WHICH WE LOVE.

On to my other reason for blogging: I want to thank Chris and Maria for the wonderful podcast regarding the history of my song "Harvest Queen". A big thank you to Morst too. Well done! I feel compelled to fill in a few blanks though.....the music for the song goes back years...all the way to "Big Dirty Yellow" (The house David and I shared when we first moved to Richmond together pre Cracker). I awoke one morning with the guitar riff and melodies in my head and worked them out right then and there. I showed it to David at one point and he called my then instrumental "Harvest Queen". It felt like a great title but we were in the middle of working on many, many other songs and I put it on the back burner. Cut to 1999, around the time I moved back to Redlands and rekindled my friendship with Chris LeRoy.

We showed each other what we had been working on and instantly began collaborating again which always feels natural to us. He came up with a new title and lyrics for the song (Haunted) which I felt where great, but I still liked David's original title idea. We recorded the track with Chris on an old, beat up, upside down bass , Chad Villareal on drums and Maria at the board and it was just spontaneously magical on the first take. It's true as Maria says, I showed it to several session players and they never matched that original track!

One night I fell asleep thinking about David's title idea "Harvest Queen". As Chris says in the podcast he had burned me a CD of several scary old songs by other people. One night I dreamt I was one of 3 or 4 young migrant farm workers in a vast green field in California somewhere. In the dream there was a beautiful, naked witch flying over us. She was slowly changing from a woman to a raven, a ball of fire and back into this temptress / goddess ...then she vanished. She appeared again after dark and was trying to coax these young men into an old 1940s looking car for something...sex? comfort? protection? To steal our souls? I didn't know but I saw it all...the monkey's paw, the straw...all of it. Scared the hell out of me.


I woke with a start and wrote the whole thing down before I could forget it. The dream became the final version of the song after that. Strange story huh? Even though I wrote the lyrics and music, the song would never have gotten finished without the input of Chris and David. I had played a rough sketch for David Immerglück one night (in the back of a car) and he actually DEMANDED that he play on the track with me. How could I refuse the amazing Immy?
I was honored. One night he came down to Lo-Fi from Los Angeles and had brought along Cracker's original bassist Davey Farragher. They sang those great "AAAAAA" backing vocals and Immy and I did this sword fight of guitar solos at the end of the song which completed the long journey. I recently had the opportunity to play the song live at Roger Clyne's Mexico festival a few weeks ago. It was their suggestion. Roger and the Peacemakers just said "Hey let's do Harvest Queen...yeah we know it". They did and played the hell out of it with me. Yet another of those wonderful "Man I have a cool job" moments. Johnny....over and out.

Tuesday, May 1, 2007

johnnyhickman.com road blog 12

Alright, it's been several months since my last official bloggish communication and that's just ridiculous isn't it? I've had my reasons and strangely, they were mostly physical. At the risk of sounding whiny I'll explain it this way...after fifty relatively healthy years I was suddenly hit with some dreadful maladies last fall. Without going into too much detail I'll just say that it involved some..um.... discomfort, some minor surgery and a rough recovery period. On the bright side, in the middle of said discomfort I traveled and performed three holiday season Cracker shows in Petaluma, San Francisco and Reno. Hallelujah! He moves! Music cures. Thank you to those of you who gave me some love and assistance out there. The wonderful David Immerglück would be at the top of that list, wheeling me around San Francisco in my chair barreling down crowded avenues to dinner and back, making me laugh myself silly with glee.

On the musical front, I am happy to report that I am currently involved with some new projects. Those of you who were in attendance at the recent Colorado shows will remember Jim Dalton, singer and guitarist from our support band the Railbenders...he of commanding stage presence and amazing, Johnny Cash like baritone voice. Jim and I are about 10 or 12 songs into an album of original material....very old school, sixties sounding country music which is sort of where I come from stylistically (as if you couldn't tell by some of my Cracker contributions and solo songs I guess eh? ). Some of the songs I write are probably just too country for Cracker and it's wonderful to have a home for many of them.....and it's great to write with Jim. We are both singing on the record ala Willie and Merle, Johnny and Waylon. Duets, harmonies and the like. Here are some titles; Mexican Jail, Hello Lonesome, Larimer County Blues, Hold My Drink While I Kiss Your Girlfriend......yeah Mr. Wrong lives.

Around my home town of Fort Collins CO, I've been playing shows with a great alt-rock / alt-pop band called the Piggies. I don't know what's in store for the future there, but something good I'm sure. I've played around in their private studio with a couple alternate versions of my own songs, just to get a feel for their masterful recording chops, and I will probably post the results of that first experiment on MySpace or somewhere else in the next year.

Last but not least in collaborations, I am also very proud to report that my friend Roger Clyne put the song we wrote together on a vacation (rest, sailing and tequila) weekend in Mexico on his new album. The song is "Bottom of the Bay," and the album is "No More Beautiful World." My current favorite songs on the RCPM album are "Andele" (no surprise I guess that I would love a pirate-themed song that mentions ravens, hmm) and "Maybe We Should Fall in Love".

Another bonus of all this collaboration is that doing all this writing and co-writing has got me fired up for some new Cracker music. I can feel it coming soon......Mr. L. and I have both been staying in the muse with other projects which always seems to lead us back to Cracker and new songs....or finishing ones that we started somewhere back in time. By the way, if you have not done so yet check out David's MOG site and devour his new song and video "Deep Oblivion". Enchanting. Okay, it's 4 am and we are not even to the middle of this Duo tour yet so, in the name of health and sanity I will sign off for now and send this to my ever-talented Webmaster Shay. Sweet dreams, Johnny

Tuesday, January 2, 2007

johnnyhickman.com road blog 11

Hello friends...just got back from the 3 shows in Petaluma, San Francisco and Sparks/Reno. As I hang out with my nineteen year old son Hans I find myself feeling wistfully appreciative of my cohorts and decided to write it down.

Allow me to give props to my associates and brothers in Cracker and CVB:

Frank Funaro: This amazing drummer and human being is the engine that keeps both of these bands on the highway. He loves to perform live more than anyone I've ever met much less played with. When he hits the stage Frank puts the show over anything else going on in his reality and has inspired ALL of us to do the same countless times.

Kenny Margolis: An intuitive and brilliant musician who could easily sit in with anyone, anytime, anyplace and hold his own on the keys. Case in point...in a moment of good humored and courageous spontaneity he scooped up a pump organ (foot operated mind you) from a nearby house and dragged it up onstage to add unrehearsed yet splendid backing to my solo show at Pi town. Balls.

Sal Maida: Basically walked right into Cracker and played as if he had been there for years. Amazing style and an uncanny ability to pick up songs, blend and create on the spot. AND he's one of the nicest guys around this camp.

David "Immy" Immerglück: This musical maniac is a combination of comedic genius, consummate showman and brilliant musician. The gang say he and I are a little too similar and grow more so all the time. I am honored by that overview indeed. David has been a spicy ingredient to the brew ever since he joined us in the studio for "The Golden Age" 11 years ago. That's his glorious pedal steel haunting songs like "Big Dipper" and "The Golden Age" and his beautiful singing right along side yours truly on gems such as "I'm A Little Rocketship" and "Useless Stuff". Whether making music together or tossing m-80s off the roofs of luxury hotels at 2 AM he is a delight to be around.

Victor K.: This eloquent and talented man has been, in been many respects at the heart of CVB from day one. From his teenage days when he was part of our small circle of pre CVB punk rock friends around the Inland Empire to the present day he has been a solid bass player, songwriter, vibester and friend to all of us. He is probably the most solid, even tempered and well liked person amongst us.

Jonathan Segel: In a very real way Jonathan is one of the edgy geniuses behind the Camper Van Beethoven sound. An aggressively brilliant multi instrumentalist, songwriter and intellect, Jonathan is a true musical seeker, always reinventing his approach and devouring styles and genres for his own amusement and growth.

Greg Lisher: As a fellow guitarist I have been a major Lisher fan for 2 decades now. We both admire several of the same greats (Jeff Beck, David Gilmour, Peter Green) yet filtered through Greg's brain, heart and hands these influences meld into a highly original style that is pure Greg. His solos are small symphonies of their own and his tone and slide work floor me again and again.

David Lowery: Certainly the fire at the center of our universe, David has written music his own way for as long as I've known him and that's a hell of a long time. I count him among the best songwriters of his generation. As friends playing in separate bands around the same area, his oddly unique humor, wit, angst and passion inspired me long before we became partners in Cracker. I might not have come up with half of the melodies, riffs, lyrics or titles I've contributed to the Cracker canon without his direct inspiration and delightfully skewed vision of life on earth. When asked how we work together once in an interview I once blurted out that I try to play guitar the way David feels when he's telling the story. That's as close as I can get to the core of it. There's no set method. Sometimes the words come first, sometimes chords, sometimes a guitar riff that may or may not become a vocal melody, sometimes it's just a title or a sentence. Here's just one example of a Cracker song's birth : I have a guitar melody that feels to me like a cross between some freaky goth like surf music and The Pixies circa "Surfer Rosa". I show it to David and he soon begins firing off free verse lines on a fictitious character we invented for our own amusement (we do this often) named Kam Phoc. Soon, there are redneck mamas and comets flying around the studio. At 3 am in the hotel that night I wake up and hear another melody line in my head. I pick up my guitar and play it before I forget it. This one is a strange, almost atonal ascending thing. I show it to David the next day and he quickly finds chords to go under it. We graft the the new riff in and around the other until it feels right. Although Kam Phoc started out as my alter ego, ( I have many and perhaps should seek psychiatric help for this ) and would appear as our tour manager and mentor suddenly and without warning, David mind melded with him and realized that he was secretly an underground indie icon from a bygone era. David decided that Kam's TRULY great mid sixties record was called 100 Flower Power Maximum. Some disturbingly choice chanting and breathing from Herr Lowery and my estimation of Kam's wife's voice speaking the song title into a hand held recorder with a dying battery at the very end of the song and we had it. Thankfully our Golden Age producer Dennis Herring was (and still is) as out there as we were and caught it all, prodding us further on into our madness. After hearing David's "Let's pick it up!" screamed into the microphone, Dennis gladly obliged my sudden desire to capture the sound of my amp being dashed against the brick studio wall and miked it accordingly. That's one of the sounds that make up the bridge or "middle eight" as they call it in the U.K. That's how we roll as they say.

Perhaps in another entry I will go into detail about some of the past band members who played a significant role in our family. Johnny over and out.