Sometimes, there is a song that grabs the attention of your soul and creates a response within that is just plain physical. Perhaps the melody is catchy or the lyrics speak to you. The rhythm may even grab you, but there's a deeper element that you don't immediately identify. You just connect with a feeling and you know you'll never find a word to describe what's happening. So you settle for a euphemism like 'cool' or 'great', but it just falls short.
The first time I remember such an experience, I was plugged into my headphone, listening to my new Steely Dan album, Katy Lied. My friends were enamored by Can't Buy a Thrill, but I wasn't as impressed with Steely Dan until Pretzel Logic. Up to that point, my musical experience had been shaped by my dad's country & western tastes and my mom's opera singing. I chose, therefore, to listen to Jimi Hendrix, Cream, Led Zeppelin, Traffic and Janis Joplin. But, of course.
Track One: Black Friday. Listened. Enjoyed. Wasn't disappointed. Looked forward to hearing the rest of the album.
Track Two: Bad Sneakers.
I think I listened to Bad Sneakers four or five times before moving to Track Three. This is the song I described at the beginning of this post. The one that made my soul sit up and say, "Hey! What's up with this?" It wasn't the melody, the lyrics or the guitar. Remember, this wasn't even my favorite genre of music. I was into Led Zeppelin and Pink Floyd at that time. It was something else . . . an entity lying under the surface that gave the song its saucy backbone, its attitude, it's soul-catching groove:
It was the bass.
It wasn't until years later, when I walked away from the piano and put my guitar in the closet to pick up the bass, that I was made aware of a bassist named Chuck Rainey. By then, I'd owned Steely Dan's Aja for years; one of my all time favorite albums. Of course I'd paid scant attention to the names of the sidemen; I was oblivious like that. And it took me a while to connect the name Chuck Rainey with my beloved Bad Sneakers.
Jackson Browne, Rickie Lee Jones, Marvin Gaye, Aretha Franklin, Robert Palmer, Leo Sayer, Dave Mason, Tom Jones, Etta James, Fats Domino, Joe Cocker, Ray Charles and many others paid attention, though. And Chuck Rainey was studio bassist for them as well as many, many, MANY other artists.
As a bassist, Mr. Rainey is the best in the business. Hands down. Versitile, creative, intuitive, inspiring, influential, truly among the greatest musicians to have shaped modern music. Given the soul-touching depth of his musicianship, "The Godfather of Groove" is an apt moniker.
I am appreciative of the many ways he has reached out to touch the lives of his fans and has influenced other bassists. His series of instructional books, The Complete Electric Bass Player, has helped educate and shape the playing of many bassists. He continues to teach and tour and record, leaving his unique legacy for the benefit and enjoyment of the musical world.
I am honored (and way excited!!) that Mr. Rainey granted me an interview that I will share in my next blog post.
Please join me in welcoming Chuck Rainey!
(Photo used with permission, courtesy C. Rainey)


wow - how very cool. Looking forward to the interview!!
Posted by: scott | April 22, 2009 at 06:57 PM
Wonderful! You describe this genre of music (which is one of my favorites) so rythmatically...in fact saucy. Looking forward to reading the Interview. What a great opportunity! I'll be tweeting this.
Posted by: Screwed Up Texan | April 27, 2009 at 03:18 PM
Your post here caused me to go back and listen to "Bad Sneakers" again. I was with you in the genre. I was a bassist at the time and loved Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin etc.. I did like Steely Dan a bit, and really loved the bass work in "Rikki Don't lose that number", but had really glossed over "Bad Sneakers". Thanks for making me.. Listen again. ;)
Posted by: Harold | May 13, 2009 at 08:55 AM