The man shouted.
“Snakes?” Geoff repeated; all the colour draining from his face. “There’s snakes?” His knees wobbled.
“And the pile of shit is gonna fall down any day now,” he added walking away shaking his head. “Damn fools.”
“I hate snakes,” he hissed. “I hate ‘em.”
We got back into Sub-A-Lub and went on up to Penticton to play. When we returned two days later we got stuck in a huge traffic jam coming into Hedley.
“What’s the problem officer?” Jim asked the RCMP officer who was directing traffic.
“Mine collapsed,” he answered. “The whole thing crashed down onto the highway. It’s a miracle nobody was hurt. There’s going to be a delay as we clear the debris.”
“Holy shit!” we all exclaimed in unison.
My Ludwig Hollywood drum set was stolen out of Sub-A-Lub one night. They smashed in a window and took off with the kit. Fortunately for me, my dad had arranged insurance on all of our gear. We may have been the only rock & roll band in the world with insurance in those days thanks to him. With the pending insurance money I ordered a new wood-finish set of Ludwigs from a friend of Jim’s. He owned a small music store across the street from our house on 21st. He lent me an old Rogers champagne sparkle set until the new kit arrived.
We were playing a lot of gigs all the time and were earning top dollar for local bands in those days. But nobody in the band received a penny in wages. All of our revenue went back into the band; to purchase equipment, strings and sticks and to pay for repairs and maintenance. Jim handled all of the money and ensured that drugs, booze and food were also provided. John was not happy with this arrangement because he lived at home and felt that the band’s money should not pay for our recreation.
We played a high school dance and, as usual, Jim collected our fee. He did not return to the house. In fact, he disappeared for days. When he did turn up he admitted that he had taken our money from the high school gig and had gone off to Los Angeles. Geoff, Steve, Lindsay and I were pissed off but, Jim had done a lot for us, and we found it hard to remain angry with him.
However, Jim was the one who was angry ... and disappointed. The Seeds of Time was not developing into the “Fun - not boring” entertainment icon that Jim had envisioned for us. Life became very tense at the house.
One night Geoff, Lindsay and Steve concocted a scheme designed to shake Jim up. They grabbed him, tied him up and blindfolded him and threw him in the back of Sub-A-Lub. I was commissioned as the driver. We drove way out into the valley near Hope and pulled off the highway onto a deserted dirt road. They opened the door and pushed Jim out. We drove away and left him alone, lying at the side of the road in the dark.
After about twenty minutes we went back and picked him up. We told him that this was his punishment for stealing money and pointed out that we must really care a lot to go through all of this trouble. Jim appreciated the cheap theatrics of our little skit and joined in the laughter all the way home. We all hoped that our tough-love exercise had brought us all closer together.
We were wrong. Jim’s dissatisfaction deepened. He became aloof and distant. Then he disappeared again. Some said he went back to L.A. but, wherever he went, we were left without a leader.
The house at 21st & Renfrew had become a sty that was unlivable even for us. Bill, our benefactor, announced that he had found a big house out on South East Marine Drive near Boundary Road in Burnaby. The place was spectacular. It was a grand old house with a full basement, main floor and large attic. Altogether, it provided eight bedrooms and had a large parking lot with a two car garage. It featured a panoramic view of the Fraser River and had an orchard in the back. The only drawback was that there was an old man living in a small room in the basement. We didn’t think he would bother us much so we moved in. Bill and Geoff took the rooms in the attic while Steve, Lindsay and I moved into three of the five bedrooms on the main floor.
We convinced John that we needed to live together as a group so that we could rehearse at all hours and generally immerse ourselves in a wholly creative environment. He half-heartedly moved in a bed, a table and a lamp. Then he attached a padlock to his door, locked it up and went back to his parents' house. This did not sit right with everyone but we let it slide for the moment.
Our little squabbles were made to look petty on July 3rd when the world was stunned with the news that Rolling Stone’sfounder and former leader, guitarist Brian Jones was discovered dead in the swimming pool at a friend’s house in London. His death was shrouded in mystery and suspicion; there was bad blood between Brian and Mick Jagger. Additionally, Keith Richards had recently impregnated Brian’s girlfriend Anita Pallenberg. Nobody ever really knew what happened.
Bill arrived home one day with a friend of an associate of his in Seattle. His name was Terry. He was white, short and slight of build with a huge afro. We needed someone to help move our equipment, and he seemed a perfect replacement for Howard, so he moved in.
Geoff’s poor little Datsun station wagon had not really survived the shit-kicking he had given it while mad at Lindsay and Jocelyn for allowing him to ball Jane. We traded it in for a brand new Datsun 510 station wagon. It was a hot little car; white with racing red pin striping and fat tires with shiny mag wheels.
On August 9th I went to see a new English band called Blind Faith. It starred guitarist Eric Clapton and drummer Ginger Baker both from Cream, Stevie Winwood from Traffic and Rick Grech from Family. The media had coined a new term for them, 'Supergroup!' And they were that to me.
I had loved Cream, especially Ginger Baker, but had missed them when they played Vancouver in 1968. This was my chance to see him play in person. He didn’t disappoint. Simply put, Ginger Baker is the best rock drummer I have ever heard. He probably won’t like to hear this because I understand that he considers himself a jazz drummer and may deem my compliment unworthy but, nonetheless, his performance this night was infinitely important to my painfully slow development as a rock drummer. It was his technique that really knocked me out; the precise way in which he struck the drum. The execution of each and every hit was perfect; whether a simple single stroke or a complex flurry of multi-stroke rolls. He was like Rudolf Nureyev with sticks. And he was a master of time and syncopation. His drum solo, which he played partially in 5/4 time, was so good that I swore I would never play another drum solo myself because I had heard the best - why clutter the world with something inferior? (This was an oath which was impossible to uphold).
After seeing and hearing Ginger Baker in person I suddenly understood that I could do so much more with my bass drum; that I could play pick-ups and grace notes and that the bass drum could accent the bass player’s line for emphasis. I was like a child with a new toy; I couldn’t get enough.
To compliment my newly-inspired enthusiasm, my new wood-finish Ludwigs arrived. The kit featured one rack tom and two floor toms. The second floor tom made an ideal beer table.
By chance I also discovered another musical passion that would help me improve as a drummer. I bought a gorgeous Gretsch G3303 acoustic guitar from Columbia Music on Columbia Street in New Westminster. I also bought a book titled, 4,400 Guitar Chords. I spent hour after hour studying that book and struggling to learn and play the guitar. There were several arrangements at the back of the book. I swear the arrangement of I’m in the Mood for Love had almost all of the 4,400 chords in it. I had little talent for playing the guitar but I kept at it anyway.
A few days later we played a gig at Marc Derek’s newest place on Granville Street. He had gutted one of the old movie palaces on Granville Street called The Colonial and turned it into a concert hall. One of the first shows there was The Seeds of Time on August 15th.
Lindsay had been experimenting with open tunings on his guitar. One day in rehearsal they plugged his Gibson J-45 acoustic guitar into John’s Leslie speaker and he de-tuned into an open D tuning. Incorporating the full open-tuning and the feedback