Interview w/ Hal Blaine (LA Record)

Illustration by Zach Hill


My interview with Hal Blaine as published in LA Record.


Listen to K-Earth for 10 minutes and you’ll hear Hal Blaine’s drums on at least half of the playlist. Drummer of the legendary group of session musicians in the ’50s and ’60s dubbed ‘The Wrecking Crew,’ Hal is the most recorded drummer of all time, estimated to have played on nearly 6,000 of the best known songs in modern history with hundreds of artists including Frank Sinatra, the Beach Boys, Elvis Presley, the Byrds, the Grass Roots, Sonny & Cher, the Mamas & the Papas, and Herb Alpert & the Tijuana Brass. He recorded 40 #1 singles, had 150 songs in the Top Ten, played on eight albums that won Grammys for Record of the Year, and was a key figure in Phil Spector’s ‘Wall of Sound.’ He celebrates his 80th birthday on Feb. 5. This interview by Linda Rapka.

Who’s a better drummer—you or Richard ‘Pistol’ Allen of the Funk Brothers?
There’s no such thing as ‘better.’ I might have been luckier. I probably did many more hit records than he did. I have very close to 6,000 now.

You’ve played drums on more records than anybody — ever.
Probably. Yeah, probably. I guess there’s a thing called YouTube, and I was told you punch up my name and there are lists and lists and lists of albums I did.

How were you able to master so many different styles and genres?
We were all very well-versed — very studied musicians, graduates of music schools and institutions. If you wanna make it to the big time, you’ve got to know what you are doing. We knew what we were doing. We could go in and play any kind of music that was put in front of us, including the big music that was just coming in — rock ’n’ roll.

Did it bother you that you weren’t credited on all these hit records?
No. I was just happy playing my drums. We were very fortunate. We were all nightclub musicians making little money, and all of a sudden we fell into this—I like to call it this ‘vat of chocolate.’ In the beginning, they just never put credits on albums of musicians or background singers. One of the great producers came around, Bones Howe, and insisted that we get credits, and all of a sudden it started happening.

How many tracks would you record in a day?
Anywhere from one to 12 for a complete album.

You’d cut a whole album in a single day?
We often did. In a double session we’d do six in the first and six in the second.

What takes most bands months took you guys one day.
That’s because we had the studio experience. When we were doing Beach Boys, Dennis Wilson was a fine drummer, but he wasn’t really a drummer—he was a piano player. He’d go out there, but I was making the records. I was making 60 bucks that afternoon, and he probably making $50,000 or $60,000 that night.

Did it piss you off that you were making all these other people rich while your own albums couldn’t sell?
It never did because I was hired to make records, and every time I went in to record all I wanted to do was make a hit record for those people, not for myself. I mean sure, if I was on a record with Elvis Presley, of course that was a feather in my cap. And I wound up with more feathers than an Indian chief. I just never became an egomaniac. I didn’t go around saying, ‘Do you want me to use my John Denver sticks?’

Would you have preferred to have made it big in your own band?
Really, no. It’s like with movie stars: they have their hit movie, they work for so many years, they get their Oscar, and then they don’t do it anymore. I was like a good character actor. I worked in everything. I was very fortunate.

The Monkees were condemned for having the Wrecking Crew cut their albums, but all the top artists at the time were doing the same thing. Did they get a bad rap?
With the Monkees, all of a sudden it became a big scandal in Hollywood. But most people knew that they didn’t play on their records. Most people knew that we did the Beach Boys records and the Partridge Family and all those groups. They were all hits, and that’s the reason they were hits. What happened to the Monkees — it’s very silly.

Did it sink in at the time that you were doing something special?
You didn’t realize how much you were doing, when you were working two, three, four sessions a day. I was just happy to be working. We did the Mamas & the Papas overnight and they became the biggest things in the world. We did the Monterey Pop Festival. Everyone was at that show: Johnny Rivers, Jimi Hendrix, the Who, everybody. I brought the Wrecking Crew up and we were the house band for anybody who may have needed a band.

You just went up and played without rehearsing?
When you got the experience — and we had — I would just tell the guys, ‘Fake it like you’ve done for the rest of your life.’ And we did.

A lot of people don’t know that you weren’t just a session guy; you went on the road as well.
I rarely was on the road, but when John Denver went out for a week, that would be it. He never traveled for months and months. Nobody ever knew. If I left town, my secretary never, ever said that Mr. Blaine is out of town on tour, she’d just say I wasn’t available that day. When you’re known as a studio musician, that’s the top of the rung. But when you’re a road musician, you’re just a little bit under that. Nobody ever knew I went on the road.

Were there Hal Blaine groupies?
There were a few, yeah. I would go on the road sometimes and they would try to tear my clothes off. That was kind of big time.

Did you prefer the studio to being on the road?
I preferred staying at home. I had a beautiful home in the Hollywood Hills and all the toys. Unfortunately I lost them all in a divorce. I had 175 gold and platinum records on my walls, and they all had to be sold when I went through that divorce. I really lost everything.

How did you cope with that?
You just cope with it. That’s the way it was. You pick up the pieces and you start all over again. I could have… many times you’re thinking, ‘I could blow my brains out.’ But that’s not me. I wanted to play music, and I did play music.

Were you ever tempted by the vices of the ’60s?
Never. I never got into the booze, never got into the drugs. Tried marijuana a couple of times—it was terrible.

What was it like working with Phil Spector? Did he ever bring a gun to a session?
The detectives were out here for three hours questioning me. But it was kind of common knowledge that he usually was armed. He was not a drunk at all. There were no drugs involved in those sessions. I never, ever saw a gun. He was fine with us.
Can you compare working with Brian Wilson to Arthur Lee?
I don’t even remember. But I know I did that. I was involved with all those groups. Not only the Beach Boys, but America, Sonny & Cher… I just can’t think of all of them. They’re all listed on that YouTube thing.

Was anyone really nasty to work with?
Never ever. They were happy that I was there to help them make a hit record. Once in a while you’d get a producer who didn’t know what he was doing who’d say, ‘At the beginning of this song I want you to sound like the Beatles, and in the middle of the song try to do what you did on Simon & Garfunkel.’ I’d tell these guys, ‘I’ll be happy to do what you tell me to do, but why don’t you let us make hit records?’

Is it true you played snow chains on ‘Bridge Over Troubled Water’?
When Paul played me ‘Bridge Over Troubled Water,’ for some reason I pictured a troubled guy in chains—in a chain gang. So I told them, ‘If you’ll allow me, I’d like to try something that might sound silly.’ They said, ‘Do what you wanna do, man.’ So I went out to my car and got my set of chains and they found a room at the studio at Columbia, an old microphone storage room, and I got a couple of pillows to set my knees on and I sat there for several hours smacking these chains to the floor. Drag on one, smack on two, drag on three, smack on four.

Of the few records you didn’t play on, what song in the rock ‘n’ roll songbook had a drumbeat where you were like, ‘Man, I wish I’d done that!’?
I don’t get inspired really much. I don’t listen to a lot of other drummers. In those days I wasn’t listening at all because I wanted my stuff to be fresh. I purposely never listened to the radio or other hit records because I didn’t want to copy what somebody else was doing.

Is there anyone in the Wrecking Crew you didn’t get along with?
Well, today of course I’m very upset with that goddamn Carol Kaye. She’s just so full of garbage. I saw her at the musicians union and I screamed expletives at the top of my lungs—‘Don’t you come near me, you son of a bitch!’ I laid it on her something terrible. She ran away. I haven’t seen her or talked to her since, and I wouldn’t anyway. She should have been tried for treason.

Did you go to Earl Palmer’s funeral?
Well, let me explain something. Earl had several families. And they all came out of the woodwork when he died because they thought he’d left millions. He had no money when he passed away. The problem is that because we were sort of the cream of the crop of musicians in Hollywood, as far as anyone was concerned we were making millions of dollars. But we weren’t. Nobody was making millions of dollars! We were working day to day, week to week, month to month, like everybody else, paying our mortgage. He was just going to have a quiet burial, which was what Earl wanted. He didn’t want a party, he didn’t want a memorial. I told my daughter the same thing. There will be no parties for me. When it’s over, it’s over. We were lucky enough to do it all, see it all, play it all, have it all, and now when we’re gone, forget it. We’re making room for the next people.

I hear that you still will play with pretty much anyone who asks for $100 an hour. Would you play my party and just go nuts on the drums for an hour?
Well, like if a guy wants me to play in a night club—I don’t want to go working in those smelly old joints. I don’t like that stuff anymore. I’m not a kid anymore. I like the peace and quiet. Once in a while if something special happens, like my buddy Don Randi has something down at the Baked Potato in Hollywood, I’m happy to do that. But I’ve been pounding those drums for well over sixty years now, and enough is enough.

Looking back on your career, what are you most proud of?
I’m supposed to get a doctorate from Berklee in Boston. I’ll be Dr. Hal Blaine, which is kinda far out. And a big scholarship—the companies I endorse, each year they’ll be donating drums and cymbals to people who get the scholarships. It’s an honor.

Will there ever be another Wrecking Crew?
Who knows? Cycles go around and you never know what’s gonna be next.

Meet 'The Wrecking Crew' - interview w/ Denny Tedesco

My interview as published in the June 2008 issue of the Overture, official publication of Professional Musicians, Local 47.


L.A. Studio Musicians of the '60s Profiled in New Documentary

Session players behind Frank Sinatra, the Beach Boys, Phil Spector's 'Wall of Sound' featured in Denny Tedesco film

by Linda Rapka, Overture Managing Editor


You may not know their names, but there's no mistaking their music.

The soundtrack of the late 1950s and 1960s was largely recorded by a group of Los Angeles studio musicians known as the Wrecking Crew. The Beach Boys, Frank and Nancy Sinatra, Sonny and Cher, Jan & Dean, Elvis Presley, the Monkees, Gary Lewis and the Playboys, the Mamas & the Papas, Simon and Garfunkel, the Tijuana Brass, Ricky Nelson, Johnny Rivers, and even Alvin and the Chipmunks are but a small few of the hundreds of popular artists for whom the Crew recorded, though more often than not were left uncredited on the album sleeve.

Typically knocking out several tracks in a single three-hour session, the musicians – who also comprised Phil Spector's famed Wall of Sound – played on anything from rock tunes to TV and film scores to jazz arrangements and even cartoon soundtracks, able to churn out any style of music with unmatched skill. Hopping from studio to studio, the musicians during their heyday sometimes played up to four dates per day.

Denny Tedesco, son of one of the most recorded guitarist in history, late Wrecking Crew member Tommy Tedesco, tells the surprisingly little-known tale of this group of musicians who recorded the unmistakable soundtrack of the '60s in his documentary, "The Wrecking Crew." He speaks about his labor of love and the film's upcoming L.A. premiere.

How did these musicians come to be known as "The Wrecking Crew"?
It's become something of folklore almost. The legend goes they were called the Wrecking Crew 'cause the older guys, the traditional studio guys from the '40s and '50s, weren't taking the rock dates 'cause it was beneath them, so they said these guys were gonna wreck the business.

The Wrecking Crew is an unparalleled phenomenon in recording history. How did this one group of musicians come to play so many different sessions together?
When they're breaking in the early '50s and early '60s, rock 'n' roll was still in its infancy, as were recording techniques. You didn't have ProTools, DVs, CD players, computers to help you learn how to play music or even record music. In those days you had to be all in one room together as a band, together 'til the end, everybody flawless.

What inspired you to make the film?
I started the documentary when I knew my father was going to pass away, in 1995, when he was diagnosed with terminal cancer. I knew he didn't have much time and I figured we've already lost a lot of these musicians – Ray Pohlman was gone, Steve Douglas was gone. I felt if I don't record this, nobody's going to. There were so many stories I used to hear, the laughter from all these musicians. It was always fun listening to these guys. So I decided I'd put together a roundtable discussion to start things off, and in 1996 brought together Carol Kaye, Hal Blaine, my father and Plas Johnson. I was influenced by "Broadway Danny Rose," the Woody Allen movie where they sit around that coffee shop and just talk about Danny Rose. It was like you were a voyeur to this conversation, and that's what I wanted this to be. Unfortunately my father passed away before he saw anything cut.

When was the main period of recording for the Crew?
It was a time period from the late '50s early '60s to almost the late '60s, where things started turning in a different direction. Group albums became popular at that time, so now you didn't want so many studio musicians on some of these albums. The highlight year for record dates was probably 1967 or '68 in that area. There were 400 dates, contracts that we could find. If you take weekends and holidays off, you must be doing three or four dates a day.

How did you get the rights to the music?
The record companies have been amazing. Warner Bros. was one of the companies I first met, and they said, "We're not gonna mess with you. It's not a documentary about a chicken coop. It's about our business and these people. We want this to be out there." This isn't like a kiss-and-tell book, this is a positive look at something that is not always so positive.

How did you line up the other interviews?
One of the first star talents to come on board was Cher. She was 16 when she worked with these guys as a backup singer for Phil Spector's groups. She knew them as the older guys – they were all in their late 20s and 30s, and she was just a kid. Then Dick Clark gave me an interview. Then I got Julius Wechter and Lew McCreary. Julius was a great percussion player and Lew was a great trombonist. That was a rush in time because I knew Julius was sick. I didn't know Lou was sick. They both passed away about six months later.

If someone has a favorite song from the '60s, chances are good they'll hear it in this film.
It's probably one of the biggest soundtracks in movies because there are so many songs. When putting it together I would meet with people – I won't mention names – but someone came up with the idea that since there were so many songs, we should get "sound-alikes." I said, are you kidding?! The whole point is about the sound. These people were the sound! The other thing people would say was, "Well could you narrow it down to 20 songs?" I said no. You don't have the music, you don't have the doc, 'cause it's really about the quantity of music this group of people in Los Angeles at the time did. They went from Sinatra to the Chipmunks, from Zappa to the Beach Boys – it was all over the place. They didn't have technically "a sound." They could play with anybody.

How did the musicians feel about being largely uncredited on the several hit records they played on?
These guys didn't complain. They weren't whiners. They enjoyed what they did. They got paid for what they did. My father used to tell his students, "You pick up the guitar because you love to play guitar. You don't start because you want to make a living of it. If you get paid for it, it's a bonus. If you make a living at it, you're in a small minority – congratulations."

With documentaries like "Standing in the Shadows of Motown," it seems like there's a strong public interest in what goes on behind the scenes.
I was thrilled that it came out, but I was more thrilled that it was successful, because it's basically the same kind of behind-the-scenes story. Mine's a different slant on it, but it does show that the public is interested and wants to know. There is a curtain, and us as humans it's natural that we want to learn something new.

What was it like to be growing up, hearing all these songs on the radio and knowing that was your dad playing on most of them?
Most of the time I never knew it was my dad on the radio. These guys were doing three to four dates a day, they didn't even know they were on some of these songs! There's certain songs, like the Beach Boys where you know Hal was playing all the time, but my father wouldn't know. You figure these guys did two, three, four dates a day for a while, and sometimes the groups weren't there, it was just laying down the tracks. Don't forget, there were hundreds of hits, but there were thousands of bombs.

I didn't realize the impact he and his friends were making. I don't think they had an idea of the impact of what was going to happen 40, 50 years later, the fact that people are still listening to these songs. When you go 50 years before them in 1960, you're talking 1910. Were they listening to songs from 1910? It never happened.

How was it trying to find a balance telling your father's story and the story of the Wrecking Crew as a whole?
It was a big problem. When I started the film, I was never going to focus on my father, and I surely wasn't going to be part of this. It was about this group of musicians. A friend of mine looked at our first 30-minute cut a few years ago and said, 'It's a History Channel documentary.' That killed me. But he was right. The way I made that transition was by going, Here's a story about my father and his extended family, the Wrecking Crew. Because you can't have one and not the other.
It's about having the story and not just the facts, which is what you did with this film.

I think unconsciously I was trying not to let go. I didn't want Dad to leave and this was my way of holding on.

The film took 12 years to complete.
If I'd finished this in two years, five years or eight years, even 10, it would not have been as good because not just what I got later, but understanding the story more.

The film has been a success at festival screenings earlier this year.
We started at South by Southwest (SXSW) and it coincided with the music festival.Then we were invited to Nashville as the closing film. That was an honor in itself, but then we sold out two screens before the festival even opened, the first time in the history of the festival. We had the greatest time. All these Nashville greats like guitarist Brett Mason as well as transplants like drummer Ed Green, and bassist Bob Babbitt from the Funk Brothers, were there. As well as another guitar hero of mine, Peter Frampton. They were so enthusiastic and supportive, it was amazing. Some of the musicians were saying, "I've gotta have my kids see this." And that's a thrill.

Don Randi, who's been very supportive, came out to play after the festival with Al Kooper, Mike Deasy, Lyle Ritz and Al Delory. They played some of the hits that they recorded on, and the audience went nuts! There were probably about 700 people in the room.

What I've noticed about the film is the fact its working on two levels. Musicians understand it from the inside. They understand what it takes to be a musician, and you've got the music lovers, who are blown away – "Wow, that's what happened?!"

Where was the very first public screening?
There was an event at the Rock 'n' Roll Hall of Fame and they asked if come down with Hal Blaine, so we showed a 30 minute teaser. It was a packed audience of 150 people, and they gave us a standing ovation. It was a great feeling of love in the room. The MC started asking Hal questions, and Hal started crying. I thought he was joking, but I looked behind his sunglasses and saw tears. Hal said, 'When I saw all my friends up there, it brought back a lot of memories to me.' Which is a sweet, beautiful comment. So I felt, OK, if I made Hal happy and if I could make these musicians happy by telling the truth, then I've done my job. They were honest with me, so I wanted to be sure I was honest to them with this story.

It was quite the labor of love.
I used to hate that term. But it's true. I had to finance it myself. It might have taken 12 years to actually make it, but it took a lifetime to understand it.


The Los Angeles premiere of "The Wrecking Crew" will take place during Grand Performances at a free outdoor screening at California Plaza in downtown L.A. Saturday, June 28 at 8 p.m. For more information about the documentary and the musicians, visit www.wreckingcrew.tv.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

A few songs recorded by the Wrecking Crew:

The 5th Dimension
"Let the Sunshine In/Aquarius"
"Stoned Soul Picnic"
"Up-Up and Away"
"One Less Bell to Answer"

The Association
"Windy"
"Never My Love"

The Beach Boys
"California Girls"
"Don't Worry Baby"
"Fun Fun Fun"
"God Only Knows"
"Good Vibrations"
"I Get Around"
"Sloop John B"

The Byrds
"Mr. Tamborine Man"

Glen Campbell
"By the Time I Get to Phoenix"
"Gentle on My Mind"
"Wichita Lineman"

Captain & Tennille
"Love Will Keep Us Together"

The Carpenters
"Close to You"
"We've Only Just Begun"

Cher
"Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves"
"Half-Breed"

The Chipmunks
"Chipmunks Theme"

Nat King Cole
"Ramblin' Rose"

Sam Cooke
"Twistin' the Night Away"
"You Send Me"

The Crystals
"Then He Kissed Me"
"Da Doo Ron Ron"
"He's a Rebel"

Bobby Day
"Rockin' Robin"

Defenders
"Taco Wagon"

Shelly Fabares
"Johnny Angel"

Richard Harris
"MacArthur Park"

Jan & Dean
"Dead Man's Curve
Surf City"
"Little Old Lady (From Pasadena)"
"Balboa Blue"

Gary Lewis and the Playboys
"Everybody Loves a Clown"
"Sure Gonna Miss Her"
"This Diamond Ring"

Barry McGuire
"Eve of Destruction"

The Mamas & the Papas
"California Dreamin'"
"Dedicated to the One I Love"
"Monday, Monday"

Henry Mancini
"The Pink Panther Theme"

The Marketts
"Out of Limits"
"Surfer's Stomp"

Dean Martin
"Everybody Loves Somebody"

Scott McKenzie
"San Francisco (Be Sure to Wear Flowers in Your Hair)"

The Monkees
"Mary Mary"

Chris Montez
"Let's Dance"

Ricky Nelson
"Fools Rush In"

Wayne Newton
"Danke Schoen"

Jack Nitzsche
"The Lonely Surfer"

Harry Nilsson
"Everybody's Talkin'"

The Partridge Family
"Come on Get Happy"

Elvis Presley
"A Little Less Conversation"
"Viva Las Vegas"

Paul Revere & the Raiders
"Indian Reservation"

The Righteous Brothers
"Unchained Melody"
"You've Lost That Lovin' Feelin'"

Rip Chords
"Hey Little Cobra"

Johnny Rivers
"Poor Side of Town"

Tommy Roe
"Dizzy"

The Ronnetts
"Be My Baby"
"I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus"

Routers
"Let's Go"

The Sandpipers
"Guantanamera"

Lalo Schifrin
"Mission: Impossible"

Simon and Garfunkel
"Mrs. Robinson"

Frank Sinatra
"Strangers in the Night"
"That's Life"

Nancy Sinatra
"These Boots are Made for Walkin'"
"Drummer Man"

Sonny and Cher
"The Beat Goes On"
"I Got You Babe"

T-Bones
"No Matter What Shape (Your Stomach's In)"

Nino Tempo & April Stevens
"Deep Purple"

The Tijuana Brass
"The Lonely Bull"
"Spanish Flea"
"Taste of Honey"
"Whipped Cream"
"Zorba the Greek"

Ike and Tina Turner
"River Deep Mountain High"

Ritchie Valens
"Donna"

Bobby Vee
"The Night Has a Thousand Eyes"

The Ventures
"Hawaii 5-O"

Mason Williams
"Classical Gas"

Roger Williams
"Born Free"


* * * * * * * * * * * *

The Wrecking Crew & Friends

Drums/Percussion
Hal Blaine
Jim Gordon
Johnny Guerin*
Earl Palmer
Jessie Sailes
Ed "Sharky" Hall*

Percussion
Frank Capp
Gary Coleman
Gene Estes*
Victor Feldman*
Emil Richards
Milton Holland*
Julius Wechter*

Guitar
Al Casey*
Dennis Budimir
Billy Strange
James Burton
Glen Campbell
Mike Deasy
Barney Kessel*
Jerry Cole
Lou Morell*
Don Peake
Bill Pitman
Louie Shelton
Tommy Tedesco*
Howard Roberts*
Ben Benay*
David Cohen

Bass
Jimmy Bond
Chuck Berghofer
Carol Kaye
Larry Knechtel
Joe Osborn
Ray Pohlman*
Lyle Ritz
Bob West*
Arthur Wright

Piano
Leon Russell
Larry Knechtel
Al DeLory
Don Randi
Ray Johnson
Lincoln Mayorga
Mike Melvoin
Mike Rubini

Sax/Horns
Gene Cipriano
Steve Douglas*
Jim Horn
Bill Green*
Plas Johnson
Jackie Kelso
Jay Migliori*
Nino Tempo

Trombone
Louis Blackburn*
Lew McCreary*

Trumpet
Ollie Mitchell
Tony Terran
Roy Caton
Bill Peterson

* deceased member