Doug discovered drums, or drums discovered him, at 5 years old, at which point all household objects were pressed into service (subjugation) as willing servants of rhythm. “Help!” convinced him that there was not just life beyond suburbia, but something like a psychedelic Heaven, full of shimering sunsets and lollipop guitars. It also set him on a long journey of discovery in search of the One True Chord that unites all living things. The quest for sweet sounds of abandon became the noblest of missions, and his fascination with all things Rock, and then later Folk, Blues and Jazz became all-encompassing, was part of a never-ending drive to get closer to this music, these musicians, this world that is created, “to be the sound I hear in my head.”
After forays into piano, trumpet and singing, and the inevitable flirtation with guitar (fingers too small—damn!), he finally started to get some drum chops together around 14—at band camp. And they rocked pretty hard. After playing for three years in a high school band, though, life intervened, and it would be a few years before he would get back to seriously playing drums again, but the band thing just never seemed to work out. Other projects intervened, and gradually choked out any serious effort to play live. Until things started to come together with the right people in the right way (meaning rehearsal space and lots of musical chemistry). Until now.
Doug's pretty fierce. Nobody who worships at the altars of Keith Moon or Patti Smith is likely to be mistaken for a shy flower, but Doug in particular is hard to put in a corner. He and Pete met via an ex of Pete's who thought they might have some musical interests in common. Two hours after they started geeking out about bands they loved and albums by those bands that they disagreed on the merits of, they may possibly have come up for air. But only briefly.
Doug at Dodge Street Bar and Grill, Salem MA, August 2009 (first photo, by Ian Lekus) and January 2009 (second photo, by Mark L Saperstein
