Kenny Aronoff - Sex, Drums, Rock n Roll!: The Hardest Hitting Man in Show Business

Copyright 2016 by Kenny Aronoff

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, without written permission, except by a newspaper or magazine reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages in connection with a review.

Published in 2016 by Backbeat Books
An Imprint of Hal Leonard LLC
7777 West Bluemound Road
Milwaukee, WI 53213

Trade Book Division Editorial Office
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Every reasonable effort has been made to contact copyright holders and secure permissions. Omissions can be remedied in future editions.

Printed in the United States of America

Book design by Michael Kellner

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.

ISBN 978-1-4950-0793-4

www.backbeatbooks.com

Contents

It is safe to say that of the many paths to becoming a professional musician, none is easy. (At least, before DJs and machine-operators started being called musicians.) It is said that mastering any worthwhile skill, from athletics to drawing to playing a musical instrument, requires 10,000 hours of dedication.

Just think about thathundreds of days of ones youth must be sacrificed to practice and study, practice and study. That takes a rare dedication, amounting to obsession , and a tremendous outpouring of energya gathering of words that starts to lead us toward a description of Kenny Aronoff. Energetic, dedicated, obsessed. Add in talented and well-schooled, musical and hard-rocking, and we are getting closer.

When Cathy Rich and I were planning a tribute record to her father, Burning for Buddy , in the 1990s, Kenny was on our list right away. He came in and knocked off his two tracks in short order, working from his homemade notation. Youll read more about that later, but to anyone else the pages looked like a bookies tally-sheet of scribbles and hieroglyphics. For Kenny it got the job done, and we even had time to record a third track he wanted to try.

Later that year, Kenny was working with another artist at Le Studio in Quebec, near where I have kept a home for over thirty years. He was able to visit my lakeside retreat on a gorgeous summer day, then ride back in my Porsche Speedstertop down, music loud. (Probably Francis A. and Edward K. , meaning Sinatra and Ellington, with Sam Woodyards elegant drumming, a particular favorite around that time.)

During that visit, Kenny and I spent a little time in the studio collaborating on a percussion duet over Steve Ferrones drumming at the end of Pick Up the Pieces. I sported a shaved head as well that summer, so we called ourselves the Bald Bongo Brothers. (Kenny said to me, If you ever see me wearing a toupee, please shoot me! I solemnly swore that vow... )

Later, in New York City, Kenny and I performed a longer version of that part at a Buddy Rich tribute concert, with Omar Hakim driving the band.

I believe it was when Kenny was touring with Joe Cocker in the early 2000s that he rode with my longtime bus driver (from 1996 to 2015) Dave Burnette. It was Dave who told me that because Kenny was always flying somewhere on days off to do sessions with other artists, the crew called him Can-He Earn-Enough?

But you know he was doing it for lovebecause he could , because he had the energy .

There is a condition called hyperthymia, humorously defined as having so much energy, doing so many things, and getting so much donethat it annoys other people.

Hold on to that thought for when you get to John Mellencamps acid comment about Kenny and his ambition.

As if there is something wrong about wanting to play with everybody in the worldand then going out and doing it.

As Dizzy Dean said, It aint braggin if you can back it up.

Kenny Aronoff can back it up.

NEIL PEART

Introduction

Playing the drums is an emotional, physical, spiritual, and sexual experience.

When done right, there is a fantastic sexual energy between the band and the audience, between the drummer and the band, between the band and the fans out in front of the stage. Its the worlds biggest come on.

Ive spent my entire life flirting with the audience. It started in my living room and advanced to bars and then arenas and stadiums, and every night I created torrid relationships with the women in the audience (and probably everyone else, toorock n roll does not discriminate).

But if you are looking for a book where the drummer brags about sleeping with 4,000 women, this isnt the one. Most sex is fleeting, or else why would someone be driven to go to bed with thousands of groupies? Ive had my fair share, but this is about something much bigger and hotter. This is about seeing the Beatles on TV and then actually getting to play with them fifty years later, because that is the biggest fantasy to ever come true.

Getting girls to dress up like nurses is easy when you are twenty-five and in a hot band. Staying relevant and keeping the show on the road, not so much. Getting called on the phone every day to do a session with the worlds greatest artists is what does it for me. Playing with Sting and Rod Stewart one day, Johnny Cash, Paul McCartney, and Lynyrd Skynyrd the nextthat turns me on. Yes, also the women, definitely the women. And when we were young and flying around the world, doors flew open to hotel rooms, orgies, weird scenes, you name it... but you arent going to find giant piles of cocaine in this book either. Drums, not drugs! Im not judging anyone, but thats what works for me.

I am a fortunate cat. From the first note to the last, in stadiums and arenas for the last three and a half decades (and still going strong), if I had that snare drum between my legs, you could guarantee it was going to be some kind of great night. And after the show Id send thousands of people home, driven by the power of the beat, to fuck and fall in love. Sex, Drums, and Rock n Roll is some seriously powerful shit.

KENNY ARONOFF
Los Angeles, California

1

I was an insanely hyper kid. I had boundless energy from the time I woke up until I fell asleep at night, and I needed outlets that matched my endless energy, so I began running, hiking, playing football, and baseball, basketball, skiing, soccer, hockey, lacrosse, climbing trees, swimming, riding bikes, whatever kids do when they live out in the country, until I finally realized that what I really wanted to do was hit things with wooden sticks which is one way of saying playing the drums in a rock n roll band. Once I sorted that out, there was no turning back. I can only imagine what sort of world we would be living in if I hadnt started playing the drumsI think I would have created all sorts of trouble.

When we were together, my twin brother (identical twins, which meant a double dose of all that energy) and I were like an atom bomb. Our parents encouraged us to play outside all the time, just so we wouldnt destroy their house and maybe they could have some peace and quiet. We rarely watched TV because there was nothing exciting to watch on our black-and-white RCA TV set, not up in the Berkshire Hills of Western Massachusetts where we lived, not even with giant rolls of tinfoil clumped onto those ridiculous rabbit ears that everyone had on their old TV sets back then for better reception. We were pretty much at the far edge of any broadcast coming from civilization, so my parents had their LPs spinning on their turntable all the time, playing mostly jazz, classical, and some musicals. They loved singers like Frank Sinatra, Bobby Darin, Ella Fitzgerald, and Sarah Vaughan. They were actually very cool and very open-minded, and very into the arts, music, theater, poetry, dance, painting, all of it.