David Johansen R.I.P.

I'm still trying to process the passing of David Johansen. The following is a stream of consciousness conversation with myself about the part of my life I refer to as the David Jo years.

Like a lot of you, I only learned a couple of weeks ago that he had stage four cancer. But apparently, he had been living with it for quite some time. I also didn’t know until I read an obituary that he had suffered a terrible fall last year, breaking his back in two places. The pain must have been unbearable.

Most people know the history of David Johansen and the New York Dolls. His friends and family will do a better job when they share their memories of those years.

I just want to share my thoughts and memories of the man I came to know and work with, David Jo

I first stumbled across David early in my career when I was working with guitarist April Lawton. We were playing a benefit show, and David was on the bill as a solo artist having left the Dolls.

Our paths didn’t cross again until a few years later. My band SPY had just been dropped by Kirshner Records and most of the band members including David LaBolt and Michael Visceglia had moved on to bigger and better things. We all played on and off with Flo & Eddie aka The Turtles but that wasn't always a steady gig.

I was looking to move on and found an opportunity to hook up with rock legend Rick Derringer. I had been a fan of Rick's since I started playing guitar, so I jumped at the chance. It was a week-long audition and on the final day Rick's managers Teddy Slatus and Steve Paul came to check it out. For whatever reason I didn't get the gig, but I did get a call from Teddy the next day asking me to come down and meet David Johansen. David was looking for someone to replace his guitarist and song writing partner Blondie Chaplin who had recently left.

The audition was sort of a cattle call but when it was over I had the job. We were off on tour the next day. David's music was very different and more raw than anything I had been exposed to. Somehow this eclectic band worked. Wonderful musicians to play with. At the time it was Tony Machine on drums, Charlie Giordano on keys, Brett Cartright on bass and Hugh Gower filled the other guitar slot. And of course, David Jo in front.

After a 13-hour drive to our first show I put up my little Mesa Boogie amp. The crew laughed and said it was way too small. After the first song I switched to two Marshall half stacks and even with the added power it was still not enough to keep up with the thundering volume of the band. (The guitarists reading this are all laughing out loud right now)

What blew me away during the show was the reception from the fans. The adoration they had for this larger-than-life character was something I hadn't been close to. They loved him.

Near the end of the show, he fell off the stage into the crowd and they carried him around like Egyptians carrying Caesar.

At the time, I didn't fully understand his impact. I came from a different musical background, and it was years later before I truly understood what his real talent was.

David was an entertainer first and a musician second. I don’t mean that in a bad way. He had an ability to command the room, to make you feel like you were part of something. His talent cut across several artforms. He of course went on to do films like Scrooge with Bill Murray and Let it Ride with Richard Dreyfuss. He was a true performer in every sense of the word.

The time I spent on the road with David and the band was a roller coaster. Eight guys crammed into a van, bouncing from town to town. We headlined most of the bills but also opened for some pretty big acts including the Who Farewell Tour. Twenty years after seeing the Beatles at Shea Stadium I finally got to play there.

When we recorded our live album Live It Up, our producer, Ron Nevison, pushed us to do a medley of old Animals songs. None of us were too thrilled about it at first, but it ended up being the hit from the record. It even had a run on MTV, back when MTV actually played music videos.

Somewhere along the way, Tony Machine got hurt, and we needed a drummer. I brought in my friend Denny McDermott, who was just a phenomenal player. Joe Delia joined a short time after on keys, and that’s when things started shifting toward what later became Buster Poindexter.

David and Joe had a chemistry that really brought Buster to life. I think, in a way, that’s what ultimately led to the band dissolving. Buster Poindexter became bigger than David’s solo career, and the rest of us became unnecessary.

David was playing a regular gig at Tramps in New York, with Joe as musical director. It was loose, fun, full of blues, jazz, and old-school rock and roll. That’s where Buster Poindexter was really born. And once that took off, everything changed. David went his way, and the rest of us found new paths.

I left the music industry in the early '90s because of hearing problems and ended up with a financial career and eventually a money runner. I only ran into David once after leaving the band. He was playing a gig near Wall Street with a reunited New York Dolls. I went to the side of the stage and said, “Hey David, it’s David.” I don’t think he recognized me. I had short hair by then, and to him, I was probably just another face in the crowd. We texted a few times on Facebook over the years, but that was it.

Now he’s gone, and I just want to say, David, rest in peace. You were an incredible talent, and it was a privilege to share the stage with you. You lived for your fans, and they truly loved you for it. It took me a long time to understand just how special you were, but I get it now. Thanks for the memories. R.I.P.