[ Story ] [ Real Audio ] [ Pulse ] [ Info ]

 In one sense, interviewing musicians for a great national music magazine is an amazingly glitzy job. You get to hob-knob with the stars, bask in their glow, eat at their tables. After awhile, you even become something of a celebrity yourself, with your fan letters and your hate mail; but you're always a minor personality...celebrity by association rather than by deed.

  You realize that you've got a much more exciting life than 90% of the people you know, who haven't had the opportunity to lounge in Ringo Starr's dressing room, or Trevor Rabin's living room, or Steve Gadd’s hotel room. So in one sense, as you can guess, it's pretty exciting. But in another sense, it can take lot away from you. It takes the glamour out of the entertainment industry, for one thing, you realize that these folks you're interviewing can't possibly climb up on the pedestal you've built for them. You realize that they can be as boring and irritating and neurotic and foul-smelling as anyone else. And to top it off, most of them are caught up in the noxious game of the music business, an industry historically plagued by nepotism, capitalism, faddishism, favoritism, and bedroomism. Really, you can get to the point where you're truly jaded about it all, and mistrustful of anything a musician says in an interview (besides, they've probably already said it ten times that week).

Then, wouldn't you know...just about the time you figure you've heard it all and it's time to go get a degree in accounting, along comes someone like Mark Craney. It isn't enough for Mark to be an awe-inspiring drummer, as his work on Gino Vanelli's Brother to Brother and Jean-Luc Ponty's Imaginary Voyage will prove. And it's not enough that his name was on everyone's lips a few years ago, while he did touring stints with Jethro Tull, Tower of Power, and a host of others. That's not good enough for Mark Craney, Nooooo.

Mark has to go and be a hero, an honest, soul-splitting, gutt-wrenching, real-life hero. Not only that, but all his friends turn out to be heroes too, giving of themselves with nothing expected in return, loving each other, taking care of their own. Is this the music business we're talking about?         You bet it is!

Rhythm: Let's start at the beginning. How'd you get into playing the drums?

Mark: "I started the summer of my 12th year. The Christmas before that, I became a diabetic, and I think my parents were thinking, 'Wow, poor Mark. He's going to have a plagued life; let's find something for him’. So they bought me a set of drums. My dad brought 'em home, set 'em up backwards. My mother has since told me that she knew that very night that drums would be what I would be doing with my life. She's a very intuitive, fabulous woman.
  From then, I was in this cute band, and all the parents were into it and they'd help us out. But pretty soon they were going, 'Hmmmm; this isn't so cute any more.' And each parent would gradually fall away until it was basically my parents who were still there. And I know that a big part of the success that I've had is just from their support."

"I went on in local hippie bands, and into fusion bands, and with different bands in different cities, Kansas City, Denver, all kinds of places. I always believed in leaving a band if it wasn't happening. I didn't believe in sticking it out 'til the bitter end, 'til we all really hated each other. So I would just pack my truck up, get my dog, and split; and they'd all be wagging their fingers after me."

Rhythm: Did you ever leave a band that made it?

Mark: "No. Most of them are still back there feeling sorry for themselves, ordering another round of beers."

Rhythm: How’d you end up in Los Angeles?

Mark: "At the end of'75, a guy I'd worked with before in another city called me to play a club gig here. Which is kind of the key, you know, you make these connections. And as luck would have it, I ran into my friend Mike Miller, a guitar player that I grew up with, and he was working with The Fowler Brothers Band. And Tom Fowler was playing with Jean-Luc Ponty, who was auditioning drummers. So I called and called and just never got through, so as soon as I gave up they called me. Which also is kind of how it works. Then after that, one thing led to another...before it came to a screeching halt, and now I'm just getting the momentum going again."

Rhythm: Your work is distinguished by truly ingenious, on the money fills and some really remarkable double bass playing. How would you categorize the style...it's not straight jazz, not really standard pop rock...can you help analyze it?

Mark: "What could I call it? Isolated Dakotan interpretation [laughing]. Not that I spent a lot of time in a room by myself, but I was isolated growing up in South Dakota and couldn't really see all my favorite guys to emulate them. I guess that's how I got kind of a style of my own. I never had any lessons. I tried in eighth grade, but by then I was playing traditional grip left-handed, and the teacher said, 'You're right-handed; you have to play like this.' And he tried to change me over. Aaaargh! So that was my one drum lesson in life."

Rhythm: That kind attitude doesn't indicate a very flexible personality.

Mark: "No, back then I can't believe how arrogant I was. One of my favorite replies is still, 'Don't ever tell me what to do.’ And it's kind of a joke, but then...who knows? My analyst knows."
"I'm kind of glad that I grew up that way, 'cause in L.A. you just have to drive to the nearest Guitar Center and you can see all your favorite guys, and just think, 'Wow; it's so out of reach.' I didn't have that. Although I did go see Buddy Rich when I was about 16, thinking I was pretty cool. And he humbled me."

Rhythm: Who Did you want to be when you grew up? Who was your favorite player?

Mark: "Probably Ginger Baker. I just loved his feel, his time. That's how I sold my dad on getting me a second bass drum, 'cause I played the Fresh Cream album when he came home from work one night. I think it was a Friday, and he said, 'Well, it's the weekend tomorrow, we can get it tomorrow.' And I thought, 'All right! He went for it.' But Ginger Baker was my main man. We went to his 5Oth birthday party a few weeks ago, and our Woodland Hills Drum Club gave him a nice old vintage snare drum; I think he got a kick out of that."
"After that was probably Dave Garibaldi, Tower of Power, that kind of stuff. And then came Bllly Cobham and the Mahavishnu Orchestra, he was unbelievable. I really got into him. And there were a lot of other players - Jack DeJohnette. Tony Williams. And once I moved out here and got to know everybody, now I have too many favorites to mention."

Rhythm: You mean all your pals in the Drum Club? (An exclusive group which includes Gregg Bissonette, Doane Perry and Myron Grombacher, to name a few.)

Mark: "Yeah. [laughing] Those guys."

Rhythm: I'd like to hear in your own words the events which nearly ruined your career, not to mention your life.

Mark: "It was July of'86, 1 was touring with Tower of Power, and we were using small planes to travel in. I had an ear infection, and we dropped altitude really fast into San Francisco. I had the worst pain I'd ever had, at the time. And after that my kidneys shut down. So I went on dialysis for about a year, and then I had some complications with an infection and lost my left big toe."
"After that, I had more complications with the type of dialysis I was doing, and another infection. I had just complication after complication. I couldn't eat for three weeks; they fed me through my neck this fluid, and...aaahhh. Back then, my mother would wheel me out to one little spot, and we'd just break down for a while. And then dry off and get back at it, and just try to find a way. My mother was here the whole time, she was really my angel. And my father, too. He stayed at home and learned to do things that he had never done in forty-seven years of marriage.
"After about a three-month stint in the hospital, two months of it being in physical rehabilitation, I came out of there in a wheelchair. That was maybe November of'87."
"In March of'88, just as I was kind of getting myself back together and getting on my feet a little bit. UCLA called and said, 'We've got a kidney here from a car accident victim. You'd better come down.' I had no time to think about anything, and I went down and that turned into another three month stay in the hospital. I had a mild stroke when they did the kidney transplant, but it was in a part of the brain that can return completely, and I think a lot of it has.
"I rejected the kidney at first so they gave me a drug called OKT3. And I hallucinated my brains out for about three weeks straight. And then just about the time they were going to write me off, the kidney kicked in and it's been perfect ever since. I had a couple more months of physical rehabilitation, first in the hospital and then when I got home, and went from a wheelchair, needing two people to help me out of the wheelchair, to a walker, to two canes, to one cane. Now I use a cane mostly at night. All I have to do is just glance back and I'm real happy with anything I have right now."

Rhythm: What kind of things were going through your head when this was going on? Did you think you were going to die'?

Mark: [after a long pause] "Yeah. Death looked really, really good to me. It looked like a wonderful, easy way out. I was in one of our better earthquakes when I was in the hospital, and they were talking about all this stuff on the television, and I thought, 'Let it rip. I don't care. Do me a favor."
"But at the same time, I realize now that with whatever little bit of energy I had left, I was always thinking of how I could get just a little bit better, like maybe I can dress myself tomorrow, or get out of bed. So it was just a steady climb."

Rhythm: You must have quit playing completely for quite a while. Did you think you'd never play again?

Mark: "Yes. for quite awhile. And I pretended that I wasn't sure if I wanted to get back in the business anyway. I've been going to a psychotherapist that I really, really love, a wonderful woman and she's helped me realize that I was actually afraid of not being able to, so I just pretended that I really didn't want to. I've since discovered that the main reason I've got my health back is so that I can play the drums again, because that is what I really love to do."

Rhythm: Didn't the Woodland Hills Drum Club stage some sort of benefit in your honor?

Mark: "Well, at the time Gregg Bissonette, my dear friend, was living here with me, and he was talking to Myron Grombacher, who was our neighbor, and the story they tell me is that they just said, 'Well how can we help Mark make some money just to cover his expenses while he's down?' So they were going to do a clinic. And then Steve Smith wanted to join them. And I don't know what the order was, but pretty soon they had to turn guys away. And in two weeks time, it became this huge thing. And a lot of other people were involved: Dave Weiderman from Guitar Center, and Journey donated a stage, and Yamaha donated a system, and all the drum companies donated things to give away. Very harmoniously, it was really an unusual occasion. And it just couldn't have worked better."
"It was a beautiful day, a wonderful turnout. I mean, what drummer in their right mind wouldn't go to see these ten people? It was awesome. The whole time that was going on, I was in the hospital. It was an unbelievable experience to hear that now Terry wants to do it; now Vinnie's going to do it; and Ricky Lawson; and Carmine Appice; and Rudy Richmond and Mike Fisher. I got out of the hospital just the day before and went to the benefit. And that was really wonderful. A lot of my family was there. It's really made my life a hell of a lot easier. I've been able to pursue other forms of therapy and take the time that I need just to get back on my feet, and I thank all of them whenever I run into them, they all say, 'Well, you'd do it for me. And they're right; I definitely would."

Rhythm: You must be a truly remarkable person to get that kind of support. I always think of the entertainment industry as heartless, you know, when you're on top everyone's your friend, but when you're down nobody wants to know you. Is that a myth?

Mark: "I don't know. I guess it is simply that I'd go to the same trouble for them, and maybe they realize that. There's a wonderful exchange between all these guys, and a lot of support between us. I've been on the receiving end for the last few years, only now I'm getting back to where they're going to have to be looking over their shoulders because I'm tight behind them." [laughs]

Rhythm: When was the first time you played in public after the kidney transplant?

Mark: "I guess it was April this year. Gregg Bissonette was subbing on a gig in a little club right near our house, and he came over and said, 'Why don't you come along tonight?' And he hauled my drums over there and set 'em up. And I thought, 'Well, OK. Maybe I can play one or two tunes.' And I ended up playing the whole first set thinking, 'Bloody hell, how did I do that?' And then I played the second set. By then, I thought, 'Well, there's only one set left. Let's go. And it was unbelievable. It was an out of body experience by then. I was looking at myself going, 'Wow, your legs are still moving!"
"I got home here to my dog Sandy and kept waking her up, saying, 'Sandy, I played a gig tonight!' She wasn't really that excited."

Rhythm: Animals can be important to recovery I’ve heard. What kind of dog is she?

Mark: "She's part African Basenji. In fact, have you seen the Gregg Bissonette Zildjian ad? Playing softball? That's my dog, with the sunglasses and the helmet on."

Rhythm: It sounds like Gregg really pushed you to get out there and play again".

Mark: "Yeah, he always does. He's the greatest. The pushing, the support, the visiting. They'd be off the road for a day or two, and he'd come all the way over to Pasadena to visit me in the hospital and wheel me around the neighborhood, and sing Beatles songs in the reception room late at night and wake everybody up."

Rhythm: It's not easy to find friends like that.

Mark: "The support has been unbelievable. The big thing that I want to try to convey here is my appreciation of the people. To make an official thank you to everybody. I've gotten a lot of letters and support from a lot of stellar drummers, lots of different types of support. I've been so busy on the mend and pushing myself that I haven't really pulled over to think about it myself, but it has been an unbelievable experience. It's one of those things that, now that I'm through it, I wouldn't want to have missed it for what I've gotten out of it. Which takes some figuring out, but that's definitely how' I feel. Life is definitely much different now. I don't sweat the small stuff at all, and to live in the present is the most important thing. It's a little bit easier as frustrating as it can be playing now, because I can't yet play everything that I'm hearing. I do have this respect from the people that I respect, the players, and that's really important. that really keeps me going."

Rhythm: Do you think that without your friends you’d never have made it back?

Mark: "Well, here's the twist. As many fabulous people as there have been in this story, from every doctor I've been with, whether he's a homeopath or an orthopedic surgeon or a kinistheologist or any of these weirdo’s that I've worked with, to the nurses and their compassion, and the support from my friends, my mother, my family. You've got that, and then you've got me on New Year's Eve.
"The party was a bust, so I was home before midnight, and I was sitting there just trying to tune in and my inner voice said, 'Yeah, all these people are wonderful Mark, but you know you did it yourself' [fighting tears]. It was important for me to realize that, because I guess I practiced humility almost to the point of being egotistical about it. It was important, just to pat myself on the back for a few minutes, and then get back to business."

Rhythm: Well, it's true. Plenty of people would have given up on it all. They do it every day in hospitals and nursing homes.

Mark: "Well, here's another deep perspective. I mean, maybe we should put this in Psychology Today instead. When all this happened, suddenly here was my drumming ripped away from me, and a lot of my personal life was ripped away, too. There I was, puffed up on medication in a wheelchair, with not much self-image there. You don't have a lot that you can cling to outside of just your own self and your own center, you know? It's not something I'd wish on anybody, but it's a great place to start back. There's nothing superficial to depend on, whether it's your appearance, or what you do that other people like. You just have to center yourself and start out again. You learn a lot about yourself that way."

Rhythm: Tell me a bit about the gig you're playing now.

Mark: "It's a place called Pelican's Retreat in Calabassas, a band called Second Wind. When I started they had a guy named Eddie Tuduri, who plays with Dwight Yoakum, and Gregg was subbing for him. And after I played that first time I called up Eddie and said, 'Hmmmm, yeah. It was kind of fun. Can I do it again?' And I've been doing it every Sunday since. And it's absolutely crucial for me to go out and do it to at least once a week go out and really play hard for three hours."

Rhythm: Are you practicing at home as we11?

Mark: "I practice a bit. I've never been a big practicer, but now I have to work for it and that's OK, 'cause I'm used to working for everything now. Before, it was always very, very natural. I just practiced when I was curious, you know? But it was always there, and the facility was always there, and my appreciation of it was always there, too, simply as a gift from God. I just tried to keep it toned up. Now I really have to work, and it feels good when you work for things."

Rhythm: What physical problems do you still have to over come?
Mark: "It's mostly dexterity, particularly with my right hand, which was affected by the stroke, and there's a little bit of nerve damage from insulin use, same with my feet. But it's all reachable. I could probably play 90% of the calls that I'd get now, but I just want to have that extra flair to use when I need it."

Rhythm: What are your plans? Where do you see yourself in ten years? Mark: "Well...maybe where I was ten years ago? I'm just determined to make it happen again. I love traveling, I love playing in front of people, I love recording. And I used to do all of it. I'd be in a band, and do things on the side, and teaching and clinics. And so I'm just going to make it happen. I want to be in the coffee shop burned out in the morning before you catch the plane, talking with the fellows. You know? That's what I want to be doing. And I'm doing a lot of it. I played at this Remo Day a few weeks ago at UCLA and that was a real thrill. All the people would come up, and they're so supportive, saying they've enjoyed my playing and they're glad to have me back. I mean, what can I say?"
"I now have no excuses. I'm playing DW Drums, which are the only choice in my book. I've got wonderful support, I have wonderful friends, I have the best drums, not to mention Paiste cymbals. I have no excuses. That was my motto for a long time, and it's doubly so now."

Rhythm: If you were going to give advice to somebody just starting out their career, what would it be?