Meeting Your Idols

Fred: It's often said that it's never good to meet your idols. I've had about a 50/50 track record on that. Maybe that's because many of my rock 'n' roll idols (late 1980s) were in bands that were also struggling for recognition, just like me. They were all further up the ladder at the time, but still very far away from the "rich & famous" category.

In the mid-80s, when I started playing drums on the road with Dash Rip Rock, I was not into the popular music of the day. I didn't really appreciate mainstream 80s music until I became friends with Kevin and the guys from the NOLA cover band Bag Of Donuts in the late 90s. I found myself asking those guys if they'd written certain songs and they would tell me, "No, dummy. That's Def Leppard" or whoever…

Being more of a punk rock guy in the mid-80s, I found myself gravitating more towards what could be called the "independent" acts of the day, although many of them ended up signing major label record deals that eventually fizzled out. Bands like Jason and the Nashville Scorchers, X, Red Rockers, Circle Jerks, Rain Parade, the Replacements, True West, Rank & File, Guadalcanal Diary, Barking Tribe, Bad Brains, Beat Farmers, Hoodoo Gurus, et al. That was MY jam. In my opinion, these bands were all pushing the envelope musically and stylistically towards the inevitable onslaught of the grunge/punk/metal cultural shift of the 90s. And they all wrote GREAT songs.

So, one can imagine my excitement when Dash ended up not only playing with most of these bands, but becoming friends with a few of them as well. Some of the interactions were great, and some of them not so great. Drugs and alcoholism were pretty prevalent during that time, so you couldn't really expect a lot of sanity with musicians then (as now). Besides, you never really know what people are going through in the moment. I learned then that, although someone may seem to have the world at their feet, appearances can be – and often are – deceiving.

Once Cowboy Mouth started in late 1990, I was a bit more used to the idea of interacting with people whose music had affected me on a personal level. So it wasn't that much of a stretch when in early '92, on a rare night off from CM, while hanging with a buddy who was a doorman at Tipitina's in New Orleans, I met Mr. Bruce Springsteen. He was in town filming a video for an (at the time) upcoming album release and walked up to the door with his wife and bodyguard, coming to see the band performing at Tip's that night.

Knowing that some people of that stature don't like to be fussed over when they're not 'on the job,' I just casually turned my head, smiled, and said, "Hey, Bruce. Looking forward to your new album coming out tomorrow." Unexpectedly he turned and smiled, saying in his gruff New Jersey growl "Yeah, me too!" I was a bit unprepared when, after his initial comment, he turned back to me and began a conversation. It was at that moment I thought to myself, "I'm having a conversation with one of the biggest rockstars in the world… and I can't understand a f&#king word he's saying!"

Springsteen has what is commonly called an underbite in that his jaw protrudes slightly, affecting his speech in an unusual but appealing way. That, coupled with his thick New Jersey accent, created a sound that didn't travel very far in a loud rock 'n' roll nightclub without a microphone. Also, I'm a little bit deaf, owing to an over exposure of loud music throughout my life, as well as a slight birth defect.

Honestly though, I'm not trying to be funny when I say this, but to me he sounded just like the Hamburgler from the McDonald's commercials of my youth. As Bruce went on, all I heard from him was, "… rubble, rubble, rubble…" to which I just nodded my head and carefully responded, "Yeah, man… yeah."

Once the bodyguard paid the cover charge for his party, Bruce waved back at me. "Take care, man," I said to him waving back. Bruce smiled and said, "Rubble!" He couldn't have been nicer or more pleasant. Since he was out for a night on the town with his wife, most people just left them alone. But it did make me laugh at myself because I couldn't understand whatever wisdom he had decided to impart to me on that night. And it still makes a pretty good story. So never forget, in the wise words of Bruce Springsteen… "Rubble!"