Rock 'n' Roll Fantasy

By Heather Ford

A popular class not only gives students a new appreciation of music, it turns a few into rock ’n’ roll stars.

Concha Hernandez of the Magnificent Seven

Day 1: The Introduction

The first day of class this year—a warm April 1—found a surplus of students in shorts and sandals spilling into the aisles, onto the floor and almost out the door of Room 115 in the Music Building, a 140-seat space. The popularity of the course—started by music professor Chris Reynolds to bring students into the department and teach them that music can be something accessible—continues to grow each year as word spreads from past students to friends and roommates.

Reynolds, a tall, slender man whose gray hair and beard and easy manner suggest kindly father figure rather than rock ’n’ roller, immediately engaged the class with a review of the syllabus for the course, an investigation of rock’s evolution from rhythm and blues to punk and new wave. Murmurs arose as he detailed the assignments, including the mandatory song-writing project: All class members (in groups of five) are required to compose a blues song and a rock song, the best of which get performed in a rock concert at the end of the quarter by bands formed from the class.

Performing in a rock band is one of many elective assignments in the course, as is presenting a rock-dance demonstration. Electives for those with less nerve and musical talent were also mentioned, such as an oral history interview with a musician active before 1980, an album review or a rock-song analysis. Other mandatory assignments include reading David Szatmary’s Rockin’ in Time: A Social History of Rock-and-Roll and listening weekly to tapes—Week 1: Blues and Rockabilly, Week 2: Birth of Rock and Roll, Week 6: Drugs, Disillusionment and the Late Sixties—followed by listening exams.

“The way you listen to music will change,” Reynolds guaranteed students, before outlining his goals for the class: to talk about great music, to look at how culture affects music and vice versa, to demonstrate how music and text work together, to teach the students to recognize blues patterns and, most important, to get them involved “hands-on,” no matter what their prior musical experience.

The lesson plan for Day 1 was the surprisingly challenging question “What is rock and roll?”—a music most of us feel we know when we hear it but aren’t frequently asked to define. Suggestions tossed out by the class were music that combines blues and country music, that is composed of certain basic chords or that is created with the standard rock instrumentation (guitar, bass, drums, vocals). Reynolds filled in another of the main ingredients: rebellion.

To demonstrate, Reynolds pumped Doris Day’s “Que Sera, Sera” from the two large speakers suspended high above the whiteboard at the front of the class. “Why is this not rock?” he asked. After comments from the amused class about the song’s waltz rhythm and “nostalgic” sound, Reynolds played the 1966 cover (another group’s rendition) of the same song by seminal ’60s girl group The Shirelles, followed by Sly and the Family Stone’s soulful 1973 cover and an atmospheric, David Lynchian version from Pink Martini’s 1997 album Sympathique. The meaning of the song seemed to change with each new take, as the artists experimented with tempo, instrumentation and mood—the first of many examples heard in class of the great borrowing, covering and stealing traditions in rock.

Down to Business

A history-of-rock class, of course, does involve listening to a lot of great music, and it was standard for the thrice-weekly lectures. Each Monday, Wednesday and Friday afternoon, Reynolds whisked students through 50-minute explorations of the history and music of Bill Haley, Little Richard, Elvis, Motown, Dylan, the Beatles, Hendrix, fusion, California rock, the Rolling Stones (Reynolds’ vote for “the greatest rock band ever”), the British invasion, the Sex Pistols and everyone in between.

With tunes like “Tutti Frutti,” “Satisfaction” and “Bohemian Rhapsody” blaring from the speakers and out into the halls, Reynolds would point out details of musical structure and identify innovations or musical influences as students either tapped their toes and mouthed along to the lyrics or rolled their eyes (depending on which era was the topic of the day). More than a few passersby wondered who was allowed that much fun at 2:30 in the afternoon on a school day.

“Everyone leaves with a smile,” commented Caroline Grantz, an 18-year-old freshman, a couple of weeks into the quarter. “I think it’s absolutely a fascinating topic, and it is such a blast to listen to rock music for an hour three times a week. It’s a very interactive class, with lots of jokes and stories and everyone feeling free to participate and comment on things.”

The history of rock was augmented on occasion with the business of rock. Reynolds invited two guest lecturers from the music industry, Chris Macias, music reviewer for the Sacramento Bee, and Barry Melton of the ’60s Berkeley band Country Joe and the Fish, to further expand students’ understanding of the reality behind the recordings.

Melton, now a public defender for Yolo County, told the class about life as a touring musician with Country Joe and the Fish, a band formed in Berkeley in 1965 as the youth movement there began to explode. (The group’s name reflects the band’s leftist leanings: “Country Joe” is a nickname for Joseph Stalin, and the “fish” is taken from a Mao quote.)

The group performed at the first Monterey Pop Festival and toured Europe with bands like Led Zeppelin and Pink Floyd, which opened for them. But the gig they are best remembered for—and that students most wanted to hear about—was Woodstock, at which they performed their “Fixin’ to Die Rag” with its infamous opening chant (“Gimme an F!”). Melton, who also led some of the dancing and chanting in the mud, describes the event as not one you’d want to be at or play at. The rain, lack of drinking water and bathrooms, clogged road and general chaos of 500,000 spectators inspired Melton’s oft-quoted quip, “If you had a good time, you weren’t there.”

Melton talked at length about significant differences between the technology and music biz of the ’60s and that of today’s big-media-dominated scene. When he first started making records, only the studios could afford the recording equipment, requiring bands to sign up with a label to get their music heard. As the high-tech equipment became less expensive, do-it-yourself musicians and independent labels emerged, creating home studios and selling records directly to fans, a revolutionary change to the industry.

Melton touched on the Internet (he envisions a free Internet music scene with a cooperative of artists directly reaching fans and other artists), talked about rock’s erasure of cultures and traditions as it gobbles up world music (“Rock ’n’ roll is the great garbage can of music!”) and complained about musicians’ use of digital tuners for their instruments (“It takes some of the humanity out of music”). Then he grabbed his guitar and sang a tune for the class, receiving an appreciative round of applause.

The Auditions

Georgia Boyd of the Red Smoke Machine

In class during the weeks leading up to the auditions, Reynolds encouraged anyone with singing, drumming or guitar-playing experience to try out (and they would receive extra credit just for doing so). The best performers would get to participate in an actual rock concert, on stage before an audience.

Concha Hernandez mentioned the auditions to her roommates, who told her to go for it, despite her lack of experience. “I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to see if I had what it takes,” she said about her decision.

Hernandez was one of a couple dozen nervous students—and several guitar cases—scattered about the rows of wood pews at the start of the Monday evening auditions. To one side of the altar at the front of the church, a tangle of amps, cords, mike stands, drum kit and keyboard stood ready to rock the hallowed hall, incongruous elements beneath the stained-glass skylight stretching the length of the sanctuary.

Reynolds and his right-hand man for the band project, Rob Sabino, made their final equipment tests and tweaks before welcoming the would-be rock stars. Sabino, also a director of music at St. Martin’s, has plenty of expertise to lend. A prominent sideman for years in the world of rock, Sabino has performed on 27 gold and platinum albums, toured with Simon and Garfunkel, Peter Frampton, and the Average White Band, among others, and recorded with such artists as Madonna, Mick Jagger, Laurie Anderson, Art Garfunkel, Jeff Beck, Todd Rundgren, David Bowie, Peter Gabriel, Carly Simon and Sister Sledge. For the past couple of years, he’s graciously accepted the gig of music director, cheerleader and coach for the Music 106 rock bands.

Sabino and Reynolds rotated each of the guitarists, singers, drummers and bassists through band formations and solo numbers until all performers had a shot at showing their stuff. Outnumbered by the plentiful guitar players and vocalists, the two bassists and two drummers really got to demonstrate their talents.

Once each group was arranged, the guitarists and bassists mashed and wailed on their strings, the drummers tried to pound out a steady beat and the vocalists belted out Beatles covers and blues tunes as Sabino, from his keyboard, filled in the sound and yelled out chord changes and encouragement to the performers.

“Waddaya know? Waddaya want to do?” Sabino asked each performer as he or she took center stage. Some had very specific songs in mind (the vocalist who arrived with a Bowie songbook in hand), while others merely tried to find something everyone in the “band” could play.

Hernadez, whose opportunity came halfway through the proceedings, didn’t get to perform her first choice but still came prepared. “Originally I wanted to sing Save Ferris’ ‘Goodbye,’” she said, “but I was told there would be no horns to help out during the audition, and I was afraid that I would mess up, since I was only used to singing along with a CD.”

Most of the electric guitars had cycled through by this point, so instead of a band, just Sabino accompanied Hernandez on keyboards. “Even when I was walking up to the microphone I still wanted to back out and forget about the audition,” she confessed. Instead, she grabbed the mike and belted out a solid cover of “Hit Me with Your Best Shot,” chosen because of her admiration for Pat Benatar (who turns out to be Rob Sabino’s cousin).

Those students with acoustic guitars followed, auditioning unplugged and without accompaniment, including two guitarists playing together for the first time that day. Their delicate picking diverged from the folk/rock/blues sounds of the evening and held the attention of the dwindled number still seated in the pews.

From the audition’s start to its finish, the gumption of the students had been impressive as they’d candidly shared their abilities with their peers. Observers left the audience eager to discover exactly what a concert born of that range of talent would sound like.

Are You Ready to Rock?

David Amrein of the Magnificent Seven

As the rest of the class continued on with midterms, song-writing groups and listening exams, 30 of their classmates were now additionally at work behind the scenes, meeting, rehearsing, preparing and learning how to become rock stars.

Each band got four weeks to rehearse, with Rob Sabino providing support and technical know-how at a couple of rehearsals for each band. “Rob really encouraged us and gave us great tips on how to perform,” said Hernandez. “[He and Professor Reynolds] gave me a lot of confidence.”

The bands were assigned blues songs and rock songs written by the class (some of which were finished and given to the bands only two weeks before the concert), and they got to choose some covers to perform.

Reynolds chose a new venue for the concert this year after last year’s event, with no advertising, drew a capacity crowd to the 200-seat Wyatt Pavilion. “I decided to try the Main Theatre this year,” said Reynolds, “and put in a little effort advertising.” He also lined up a film crew to document the effort.

By 7 p.m. on June 3, the theater was bustling with final preparations. Rob Sabino and the bands did their final sound checks. The film crew stationed their cameras (much like a “real” rock show) to capture the performance from several angles. Performers emerged from restrooms in suits and ties. The box office opened for business, selling $2 and $3 tickets to the family, friends and classmates there to show their support.

A few minutes after 8 p.m. Reynolds, the master of ceremonies for the evening, walked on stage to cheers and applause from the loud and exuberant crowd filling the theater’s 500 seats. Before introducing the first act, Reynolds described the class and said that working with the song-writing groups and the performers each year has redefined for him how musical human beings are.

Then it was the moment of truth for the first group of musical beings, Fifteen Pieces of Flair. All the performers seemed at home in front of the large audience as they dived into “Polysyllabic Heart,” a Davis love song composed by the class. Indeed, the group had already taken its act on the road, appearing the weekend before at a house party in Davis. As the set continued through a couple of blues tunes, a Green Day cover and U2’s challenging “Where the Streets Have No Name,” colored lights lit the stage and bright white spotlights swooped around the auditorium, pulling the audience into the show. Adding that extra touch for the first time in the event’s history was a group of students from the theatre department assigned to the concert as a lighting project.

Next up was the Magnificent Seven and the Brass Monkey Projekt, a band that clearly understood the importance of having a look. Flanked by sharp gents in black suits with red ties, Concha Hernandez stood center stage on mike. Though sick with nervousness the week before the concert, she felt in control once on stage with mike in hand. “It was like an adrenaline rush,” she said. Her strong, sassy voice tore through the Save Ferris ska tune she’d hoped to audition with. As she worked the stage like a pro, the necessary Brass Monkey horn section, in suits and shades, danced in formation.

The crowd went wild, especially one audience member who proudly yelled at the song’s close, “That’s my roommate! Yea, Concha! That’s my roommate!” The crowd of mostly students enjoyed the band’s next song as well, “8:00 a.m. Class,” a blues song written by the class and performed by the equally talented and confident male singer of the group, James Ramirez.

Following the Magnificent Seven’s raucous performance was the course’s first-ever all-acoustic band, Horse Cow Invite, a folksy quartet of three guitarists and an excellent violinist. Red Smoke Machine, featuring a talented drummer and two bluesy females on vocals, closed the gig and their set with a spirited cover of “Hazy Shade of Winter.”

While not always singing on key, staying on beat or knowing how to wrap up a jam (having spent only four weeks together), the bands certainly gave it their all and entertained an appreciative audience.

And perhaps there will be more in store for some of the performers. One-and-a-half bands from previous years continue to make music together. Additionally, despite the initial skepticism of some of Reynolds’s colleagues about the need for such a course, the Music 106 class is one of the most successful in the department, with its students regularly becoming music majors. “We all now see the merit of his conception,” admitted music professor Anna Maria Busse Berger in her nomination of Reynolds for the Distinguished Teaching Award he was presented in October 2001.

Hernandez and members of her group plan to meet for jam sessions over the summer. So she may have a shot at super stardom yet. But for now she’s just happy to sing.

Heather Ford writes for the Department of Music and loves to rock. Photographs by Debbie Aldridge/UC Davis Mediaworks.