Many moons ago, my buddy Terry bought a drum kit. Terry didn’t have anywhere to keep this drum kit, but he bought it regardless. After keeping it at a few friends’ houses, I finally volunteered for my turn. I had always liked the drums and had even wanted to play them as a youngster, but my parents had talked me into something more musical – the saxophone. I’m glad they did because I loved playing the sax and regret to this day that I traded it in for an acoustic guitar which I in turn sold to my buddy Duane and used that money to buy a massage table which I eventually sold in order to buy Christmas presents a few years later. But that’s beside the point. Carol and I were renting a house with a basement which turned out to be the perfect place to store the drums.
When I first got them, I had no idea how to play. I banged around on them in an attempt to create some sort of rhythmic noise, but I was fairly hopeless. With the addition of alcohol, however, I thought I sounded a lot better than I was. Over time, my buddy Chris started bringing over his guitar and we would make a ton of noise together all while drinking a ton of beer and thinking we were the next coming of the Beatles. Around that same time, Duane started coming over with his bass guitar (I think he’d abandoned the acoustic I had sold to him) and we also began drinking beer and rocking out.
Sort of
When I say that we were rocking out, it kind of went like this. We had “figured out” how to play “Fortunate Son” by CCR and played it nonstop. It was never really any good, but it was a song and the beer told us it was really good. We also dabbled around with different riffs that we each would come up with, but with Chris being the only one that had ever taken lessons at his instrument, we were all fairly clueless about how to put things together. It didn’t help that I really only knew one drum beat.
Now, we had a good friend named Dan who was actually a very skilled musician. He had been playing guitar and singing with different bands for as long as I could remember – and he was good. Dan had actually lived with Carol and I in this house for a brief period of time but had moved out prior to me getting the drum kit. We began calling him on a fairly regular basis when we knew we’d be getting together and asking him if he wanted to come over and play, but Dan was usually either busy or just avoiding the cacophony of sound that was emanating from my basement. Every once in a while he would say he would come over and then we’d wait for him, play a while, drink some beer, call him to see where he was, drink some more beer, play some more, and then maybe, just maybe, Dan would show up. We’d fool around for awhile, but that was it. As a result of this waiting, we actually came up with a song called WTFID. The song was horrible and went nowhere, but we loved to play it – especially once Dan got there and we told him what it meant.
Around this time Duane, Chris, and I began considering ourselves a band. We had no official singer, no desire to play in public, and no actual songs, but we were a band. Like any band that was going places, we needed a name. This was back at the time (2005 maybe?) when the word Crunk was being thrown around as the next cool word. I knew what it meant, but enjoyed throwing it into everyday sentences as a noun, verb, adjective, or whatever I could just to use it. It was stupid and I knew it, but it was fun to say. As a result, I suggested that our band should be named Crunk.
Keep in mind that the point of our band practices were twofold: 1) to practice our “music”, and 2) to drink with our buddies. Most of the time we did a lot more of number 2 than we did number 1, which resulted in the addition to our name. Chris and I differ on the origins of the second part of our name – he says it was my idea but I’m fairly certain that it was his suggestion. Either way, we knew Crunk wouldn’t cut it as a band name. We were a fairly intelligent and witty group of guys so we expected more out of our band’s name. I don’t remember what else was suggested, but I’m pretty sure that at one point, after many beers while waiting to see if Dan would show up, Chris said the word that would change it all:
Whitey
Crunk Whitey
It was stupid and made no sense at all, but was just catchy enough that we laughed our drunken bottoms off at it and decided from that day forward, we would be known as Crunk Whitey.
Eventually, Carol and I moved out of that house and bought one of our own a little bit across town. Terry still hadn’t asked for his drum kit back, so I brought it along in the move. We kept our schedule of practicing around once a week and were actually getting somewhere. We really didn’t have any complete songs, but we had enough riffs that the next time we convinced Dan to come over, he seemed impressed and a bit excited about our little project. I think he saw something raw that he could lend a hand to that would really help him personally as a musician. He came over a few more times and a little more frequently after that and we actually began writing songs. Something was really starting to come of this.
On January 22, 2006 (Dan’s birthday) he came over to the house for a practice. Chris, Duane, and I had discussed it prior to him getting there, so once he arrived we asked him if he would like to become an official member of Crunk Whitey. Dan gladly accepted our offer. We thanked him, but told him it wasn’t that easy and that it was now time for his initiation. I whipped out a jar of peanut butter, told him to drop his pants, and called my dog Tina downstairs. I won’t say what happened next, but let’s just say that Dan and Tina have a very special bond.
We officially had a band and Crunk Whitey was going to rock the world.
We began practicing regularly and my basement ended up loaded with guitars and amps and cords and more amps and a microphone and monitors and a ton of other stuff that a band needs. We also began recording our rehearsals on a small 4 track recorder Dan had that resulted in some of the best laughs I’d ever had my entire life. We’d play for a while, say stupid things that we knew were being recorded, go outside for a smoke, and then come back in and listen to our recording. We laughed until we cried sometimes. Dan was kind enough to convert a lot of those rehearsals to CD for us so that we could listen to things we had written and try to work on them, but we just used them as comedy albums. Some of the things that we laughed at would actually play a part in later band business. But that’s later.
Once we had a few more regular practices and had pieced together a few more songs, Dan brought up the idea of playing in public. I suppose we all knew that it would have to happen one day, but the idea terrified me. I still really had only one drum beat and just changed it slightly so that every song wouldn’t sound the same. We still didn’t “gel” yet and were really busy trying to figure out our own things rather than trying to figure out how to play as a band. Despite those fears, we all agreed that maybe we should start off slow and just play in front of our friends who we hoped would listen to us, lie to us because they’re trying to be supportive, and then use that false confidence to build up to a public show.
And that’s exactly what happened.
We had what will forever be known to the four of us as “The Basement Show” a month or so later. We got a large sized group of our friends and crammed them into my basement which I had adorned with Christmas lights and other cheesy things to make it seem “bandish.” I was nervous all day and was getting really close to vomiting when the time came for us to take the stage when Dan called us all out to my garage. Having been the only one of us to have performed in public, Dan gave us a pep talk and handed us what would become a tradition before all of our future shows – a shot of warm vodka and a Stag. After the shot and chugging a good portion of the beer I was so worried about not throwing it all back up that I forgot about my nerves and just went downstairs and started playing.
And we rocked.
We played a series of I’d guess 7 or 8 songs, took a break, and then came back and played those 7 or 8 songs again. They weren’t the best songs we’ve ever played and it certainly wasn’t the best we’d ever played them – but people clapped and cheered regardless. Carol even threw a pair of BIG granny panties at me to give me that whole rock and roll star type feel. The adrenaline rush was amazing and I was on top of the world for the rest of the night and all of the next day. We had recorded the show on Dan’s 4-track and listened to it after the show. I don’t think you could have wiped the smile off of any of our faces. I had been friends with Chris and Dan since high school. Chris and Duane had been friends other pretty much from birth. As a result, we were all pretty close. We were four very good friends who had now become something else. Something more. We were now a band.
Crunk Whitey had arrived.
(part 2 tomorrow)
When I first got them, I had no idea how to play. I banged around on them in an attempt to create some sort of rhythmic noise, but I was fairly hopeless. With the addition of alcohol, however, I thought I sounded a lot better than I was. Over time, my buddy Chris started bringing over his guitar and we would make a ton of noise together all while drinking a ton of beer and thinking we were the next coming of the Beatles. Around that same time, Duane started coming over with his bass guitar (I think he’d abandoned the acoustic I had sold to him) and we also began drinking beer and rocking out.
Sort of
When I say that we were rocking out, it kind of went like this. We had “figured out” how to play “Fortunate Son” by CCR and played it nonstop. It was never really any good, but it was a song and the beer told us it was really good. We also dabbled around with different riffs that we each would come up with, but with Chris being the only one that had ever taken lessons at his instrument, we were all fairly clueless about how to put things together. It didn’t help that I really only knew one drum beat.
Now, we had a good friend named Dan who was actually a very skilled musician. He had been playing guitar and singing with different bands for as long as I could remember – and he was good. Dan had actually lived with Carol and I in this house for a brief period of time but had moved out prior to me getting the drum kit. We began calling him on a fairly regular basis when we knew we’d be getting together and asking him if he wanted to come over and play, but Dan was usually either busy or just avoiding the cacophony of sound that was emanating from my basement. Every once in a while he would say he would come over and then we’d wait for him, play a while, drink some beer, call him to see where he was, drink some more beer, play some more, and then maybe, just maybe, Dan would show up. We’d fool around for awhile, but that was it. As a result of this waiting, we actually came up with a song called WTFID. The song was horrible and went nowhere, but we loved to play it – especially once Dan got there and we told him what it meant.
Around this time Duane, Chris, and I began considering ourselves a band. We had no official singer, no desire to play in public, and no actual songs, but we were a band. Like any band that was going places, we needed a name. This was back at the time (2005 maybe?) when the word Crunk was being thrown around as the next cool word. I knew what it meant, but enjoyed throwing it into everyday sentences as a noun, verb, adjective, or whatever I could just to use it. It was stupid and I knew it, but it was fun to say. As a result, I suggested that our band should be named Crunk.
Keep in mind that the point of our band practices were twofold: 1) to practice our “music”, and 2) to drink with our buddies. Most of the time we did a lot more of number 2 than we did number 1, which resulted in the addition to our name. Chris and I differ on the origins of the second part of our name – he says it was my idea but I’m fairly certain that it was his suggestion. Either way, we knew Crunk wouldn’t cut it as a band name. We were a fairly intelligent and witty group of guys so we expected more out of our band’s name. I don’t remember what else was suggested, but I’m pretty sure that at one point, after many beers while waiting to see if Dan would show up, Chris said the word that would change it all:
Whitey
Crunk Whitey
It was stupid and made no sense at all, but was just catchy enough that we laughed our drunken bottoms off at it and decided from that day forward, we would be known as Crunk Whitey.
Eventually, Carol and I moved out of that house and bought one of our own a little bit across town. Terry still hadn’t asked for his drum kit back, so I brought it along in the move. We kept our schedule of practicing around once a week and were actually getting somewhere. We really didn’t have any complete songs, but we had enough riffs that the next time we convinced Dan to come over, he seemed impressed and a bit excited about our little project. I think he saw something raw that he could lend a hand to that would really help him personally as a musician. He came over a few more times and a little more frequently after that and we actually began writing songs. Something was really starting to come of this.
On January 22, 2006 (Dan’s birthday) he came over to the house for a practice. Chris, Duane, and I had discussed it prior to him getting there, so once he arrived we asked him if he would like to become an official member of Crunk Whitey. Dan gladly accepted our offer. We thanked him, but told him it wasn’t that easy and that it was now time for his initiation. I whipped out a jar of peanut butter, told him to drop his pants, and called my dog Tina downstairs. I won’t say what happened next, but let’s just say that Dan and Tina have a very special bond.
We officially had a band and Crunk Whitey was going to rock the world.
We began practicing regularly and my basement ended up loaded with guitars and amps and cords and more amps and a microphone and monitors and a ton of other stuff that a band needs. We also began recording our rehearsals on a small 4 track recorder Dan had that resulted in some of the best laughs I’d ever had my entire life. We’d play for a while, say stupid things that we knew were being recorded, go outside for a smoke, and then come back in and listen to our recording. We laughed until we cried sometimes. Dan was kind enough to convert a lot of those rehearsals to CD for us so that we could listen to things we had written and try to work on them, but we just used them as comedy albums. Some of the things that we laughed at would actually play a part in later band business. But that’s later.
Once we had a few more regular practices and had pieced together a few more songs, Dan brought up the idea of playing in public. I suppose we all knew that it would have to happen one day, but the idea terrified me. I still really had only one drum beat and just changed it slightly so that every song wouldn’t sound the same. We still didn’t “gel” yet and were really busy trying to figure out our own things rather than trying to figure out how to play as a band. Despite those fears, we all agreed that maybe we should start off slow and just play in front of our friends who we hoped would listen to us, lie to us because they’re trying to be supportive, and then use that false confidence to build up to a public show.
And that’s exactly what happened.
We had what will forever be known to the four of us as “The Basement Show” a month or so later. We got a large sized group of our friends and crammed them into my basement which I had adorned with Christmas lights and other cheesy things to make it seem “bandish.” I was nervous all day and was getting really close to vomiting when the time came for us to take the stage when Dan called us all out to my garage. Having been the only one of us to have performed in public, Dan gave us a pep talk and handed us what would become a tradition before all of our future shows – a shot of warm vodka and a Stag. After the shot and chugging a good portion of the beer I was so worried about not throwing it all back up that I forgot about my nerves and just went downstairs and started playing.
And we rocked.
We played a series of I’d guess 7 or 8 songs, took a break, and then came back and played those 7 or 8 songs again. They weren’t the best songs we’ve ever played and it certainly wasn’t the best we’d ever played them – but people clapped and cheered regardless. Carol even threw a pair of BIG granny panties at me to give me that whole rock and roll star type feel. The adrenaline rush was amazing and I was on top of the world for the rest of the night and all of the next day. We had recorded the show on Dan’s 4-track and listened to it after the show. I don’t think you could have wiped the smile off of any of our faces. I had been friends with Chris and Dan since high school. Chris and Duane had been friends other pretty much from birth. As a result, we were all pretty close. We were four very good friends who had now become something else. Something more. We were now a band.
Crunk Whitey had arrived.
(part 2 tomorrow)
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