Randall Baird

mals, all were commonplace in my upbringing. We had only a handful of stations and you had to adjust the rabbit ears to whichever way the wind was blowing out of the canyon in order to pick up anything. This led me to an incredible world of Tijuana Tex Mex, hard 60s garage punk, classic country, river bottom blues, 1940s Big Band and local folk music. I soaked it all in...every note spoke to me, much like the sound of the river. I wanted to bang on those drums! Peel off a sax solo! The radio held the secrets. We moved to the big city life after that. The Dallas/Ft Worth area was foreign to me at first...but i could ride my bike around there and haunt the local record stores. My parents had zero records in the house sans for just a few 45s and 7". I seem to remember an Anne Murray or even a John Denver record hanging out. Maybe even the Urban Cowboy soundtrack. At any rate...I had to discover music on my own. The DFW radio stations were pure fire!! I was engulfed by sounds that I had never experienced before! Deep Purple! Ozzy! Kiss! S*x Pistols! Aerosmith & Van Halen! These sounds literally floored me. I joined the Apollo Junior High school band with hopes of playing drums like my radio heroes. I studied the sheet music, got chased down alleys everyday by bullies while carrying an enormous percussion kit. I participated in all those goofy school band renditions. I mowed grass and cleaned pools in the hot summer heat, saved up, and scored a beautiful Pearl drum kit. After dicking around with that kit for about a year, I realized that I had a long way to go before I could get the hang of it. I saw Metallica open for Ozzy in Fort Worth. After seeing Cliff Burton go crazy with his ferocious tone I immediately made a conscious decision to pick up the bass. I scored an old Memphis Sunburst for $80 and two Peavey cabs from the local church that had just been sitting there collecting dust. I started to try to jump in and play along to the records I had....Black Flag, ZZ Top, the Police, Alice Cooper. I was horrible but at least it was loud and that was the buzz I was after. We moved out to Georgia shortly after that. I kept playing, kept hammering, kept digging at it. My approach to the instrument has always been a bit abrasive and unorthodox. I believe that the bass is meant to be heard and not just plodding away in the background. Play your instrument like you mean it and never surrender!! I always have new music coming down the pipe. Stay tuna.