Forward
Why I am writing this book
Whenever somebody finds out that I used to be a "roadie" they almost always ask me one of two questions. (Well, actually three if you count "What’s a roadie?") But let’s assume for a minute that they know what a roadie is, the first words out of their mouth are usually, "How did you get into that?" or "Why did you get out of it?" This book will answer both questions (for me, anyway) and will fill in the details of my life on the road in between those two events. Whenever I tell one of my "roadie stories", it has a strange effect on people. They almost always want to hear more. Their eyes get wide, and their mouth opens slightly. They get very quiet and rarely interrupt or try to change the subject. Maybe it’s the vicarious thrill of imagining for just a split second that it’s them backstage about to call for the curtain, or up on the scaffolding arcing their supertrouper, the headphone crackling in their ear in anticipation of the start of the show. They are telling themselves that if the stars had lined up just a little differently, if there had been a minor change in history, one twist of fate, they could have been the one to be controlling the sound heard by 20,000 screaming fans, designed the lighting for the show, mixed the monitors, tuned the guitars, or handed the drummer a brand new stick after he shattered the old one (without missing a beat).
I’ve had the idea of writing this book for almost 20 years. It took a variety of unrelated events to coax me to start. First, I have become something of an Internet junkie in the last few years and I recently started finding websites of bands I had worked with and e-mail addresses of musicians and technicians I had known. As I read the postings of old fans and new fans not even born when I toured, I saw this intense fascination people have with music, musicians, bands, concerts, and yes, even roadies. While surfing, I found that a production manager that I hadn’t thought about in over 20 years was living in Australia and began sending me e-mails. A drummer I thought was probably long dead showed up alive and well in Branson, Missouri. I found myself pulling out old posters, albums, T-shirts and my old Anvil briefcase. I found myself bathed in a sea of reminiscence.
About this time I heard a radio commercial while driving home from work that featured an actor playing an old burned out roadie. What was said in the spot or what was being sold isn’t important, what stuck in my head was the realization that Madison Avenue was using a roadie to sell something. The baby-boomers were responding to the memories of the concerts of their youth and the ad agency was capitalizing on that. Could I leverage that baby-boomer fixation into a roadie story worth telling?
The final consideration was simple - - TIME (not the magazine, but tick-tock time). As I write this book I am 41 years old. I was 23 when I left the road. According to standard insurance mortality tables, I should live to be about 85, so my life is almost half over if I don’t get hit by a bus (a distinct possibility since I used up a large amount of my allocated luck during my roadie years [more on that later].) If I was going to write the book, it needed to be now.
I have been working on this book in my head for two decades, reliving the events, trying to remember the details, separating the fact from the fiction, telling and retelling the stories over and over to one or two people at a time. Most of the actual evidence is long since gone. There are very few photos, an occasional itinerary, backstage pass, or poster, no autographs, and all the old friends that I could ask questions of have long since been misplaced. I make no absolute guarantee as to the accuracy of any of the details contained in this book. I probably have some of the dates mixed up and some of the names wrong. What’s important is that this is how I remember these episodes and it makes up who I am during that period of my life. Only one thing was certain - - the book’s format. You see, the road is a series of disjointed scenes, the book should be written the same way. A tour has a beginning and an end, but everything else in between is a blur. It is like your memories are in a blender. There are big chunks of individual memories floating around in a sea of blackness. Since my memories are not in chronological order, neither is the book. The only thing I can promise is a beginning and an end, and a roadie smoothie (chunky style) in between.
At this point you’re probably wondering what bands I worked with. Did I work with your favorite? Do I have secret backstage details about your number one artist?
The answer to those questions is, "It really doesn’t matter". The stories contained in these pages are true, however they are also representative of millions of other stories, from tens of thousands of other roadies working with thousands of other bands. My suggestion is to not get too hung up on who the story is about, but rather focus on the story itself. Chances are you could replace the names of who is involved and change a few of the details, and it would be a story about your favorite group or artist. I worked with over 200 artists during more than a five-year period, some famous and some not so famous. A list of most of them is located in the back of this book. A sampling of some of those artists includes Lynyrd Skynyrd, Dolly Parton, B.B. King, KC and the Sunshine Band, Jean-Luc Ponty, Bonnie Raitt, Supertramp, Talking Heads, Ray Charles, Carole King, Sly and the Family Stone, The Spinners, Patti Smith, Pat Metheny, and Blue Öyster Cult.
The range of music styles is diverse, so there should be something for everyone’s taste.
GO TO NEXT SAMPLE CHAPTER OF BOOK
This is a representative sample of the book "Roadie A True Story (at least the parts I remember)" and is the exclusive property of Karl Kuenning © 1998. This text may not be reproduced without written permission.