My musical coming of age took place in 1972...
I can honestly say that I’ve always known. I’ve never had a moment’s doubt that music is how I was meant to spend my life. Sure, it’s been frustrating at times (OK, a lot of the time), I’ve been dealt a few blows here and there, had one or two crash-and-burn episodes, but through it all it never occurred to me (in all seriousness) to pursue anything else. So, here it is; a little snapshot of what has proved a very colorful career (so far). Tales of passion and misadventure, (blah, blah, blah, such as it is) Cheers!
I was busking steadily on the Vancouver streets before I’d turned fourteen. By sixteen, I was fully entrenched in the Irish Pub circuit that dominated the Fraser Valley entertainment scene in the late 1970s. Either solo, or with keyboardist Joe McDonald, (known collectively as “Summertyme”) I performed Celtic and sing-along favorites. By my nineteenth birthday, I was already a seasoned performer and an aspiring recording artist.
When I was 11 years old, I bought my first electric guitar with the money I earned delivering newspapers and started jamming with a couple of friends. It was an exciting time for me and for music culture.
Pop Music was in the throes of an explosive renaissance. In five short years, we had gone from the Beatles, wearing matching ties and jackets and singing I Wanna Hold Your Hand, to a shirtless Robert Plant belting out The Immigrant Song.
In that five years, the entire face of music had been forever changed. Until then, there had existed a clear division in music genres. Classical, Folk, Jazz, and Pop musicians pretty much kept to themselves and rarely mixed. In the late 60s, all of that changed. I was completely and utterly swept up and carried away.