Unplugged!

The Way It Is; Bruce Hornsby and

the Range

Maynard Ferguson came to the campus of SDSU in February of 1986. The concert was sponsored by the Student Association. The budget was tight and they couldn’t afford a full 2-hour concert, so he was hired to play half of a concert. The SDSU Monday – Wednesday Jazz Band, led by Dr. J., was invited to open the festive evening, filling the first half of the concert.

Of course, all of the things stipulated in Mr. Ferguson’s contract had to be honored: a couch, champagne, his own green room, etc. It also called for a grand piano on the stage. Well, at first I was excited. We don’t have a grand piano in Donor Auditorium; they would have to rent one. But a few days before the concert, the news came that we wouldn’t share the stage with Mr. Ferguson. We would have to set up our equipment and play in front of the stage. And the piano? It would be set up for Mr. Ferguson’s piano player and not be available for anyone else.

When we showed up for the concert and set up the equipment, we had one of those old Wurlitzer electric pianos from 1969. 64 keys. And … doesn’t … sound like a piano. I saw the grand piano up on the stage gleaming. Glowing. Virtually broadcasting its acousticity, remaining chaste, steering clear from that dirty, filthy, squalid, sordid, polluted, maybe some would even say feculent, grimy electricity. I looked at the poor old Wurlitzer in front of me and felt like a $1.50. As I recall, we played a chart on "Scarborough Fair" and there was a piano solo, excuse me, a Wurlitzer solo in the middle. You know, there are some portions in any given story that are just better edited out and left for the therapists. Let's jump to.....

We played well. The audience was enthusiastic. But we were all anxious to hear “High Voltage”, Mr. Ferguson’s septet. And we were not disappointed. What a sound! What a player! What a band! What an awesome evening!

But you KNOW I was watching the piano player. And guess what.

HE NEVER EVEN PLAYED THE PIANO!!!

He used it to put his keyboard on. He besmirched the wood, finish, purpose and integrity of one of God’s, nature’s and music’s grandest collaborations so that he could have his keyboard at the right height. I don’t know what else to say. I was embarrassed for this fellow’s piano teacher.

As you will no doubt be prompted to infer from my entries over the coming months, I champion acoustic sounds, acoustic instruments and acoustic bands. It’s the way I’m “wired”. I don’t dislike electronically produced music; I think it has its place, if not for me, then for others. The subjectivity of music is what makes it special and personal for each listener. But I prefer real pianos, not keyboards; real drums, not electronic pads; real plants, not artificial flowers; real Oreos, not Hydrox.

The music of Bruce Hornsby and The Range came out of the dorm room of my friend Mark W. in 1986 and I went crazy for it immediately. With exceptions of Billy Joel and Elton John, out of a long era where the piano sound was considered too obsolete for the contemporary pop sound came all the excitement of late 80’s pop music with acoustic piano at its heart. Mr. Hornsby is first and foremost a piano player and his music comes from that place. I marvel at his ability to discourse with his pop, jazz and rock music contemporaries by entering the musical worlds of The Grateful Dead, Ricky Skaggs, Jack DeJohnette, and Christian McBride from his piano bench.

Modest Mussorgsky (yup, his name was Modest) wrote “Pictures At An Exhibition” for the piano in 1874. It was, when he wrote it, and is to this day one of the most popular pieces in the solo piano repertoire. Along the way it has been transcribed for various ensembles several times. One of the most melancholy stories I ever heard concerning pianists in an ensemble situation was from my friend Bob B. who played at Carnegie Hall, the concert stage of the world, the place where you “practice, practice, practice” to get to. “The President’s Own” United States Marine Band was in concert playing “Pictures At An Exhibition” and they needed Bob, a master pianist, to play a ten measure harp part on a Yamaha DX7 keyboard.

Credits: To Dr. J., for his commitment not only to musical excellence but to students of musical excellence. Mr. Mussorgsky, for taking an afternoon off to see the paintings of his friend and then writing about it.