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Prelude:
I want to begin this article by setting the stage and making sure things are in their proper place for understanding where I am coming from.
First, while I have had this information posted on another website and on a blog for a while, this current edition is being done by request, and I am glad and eager to do so.
Next, just be sure that we’re clear here; I only did three lengthy tours with Maynard, just shy of a full year. There were many folks who were on his band for several years to over a decade! Surely they can offer more insight into Maynard Ferguson as a person and a musician than I can. That is not the point of this article. I want to share MY experience and what it was like to be a sideman with a living legend in the jazz/trumpet circles. I also want to shed some light on the impact this had on my career.
Finally, it has been 25 years since I was on the road with the Fox as of this writing (August, 2005). While I cherish those times and still love to bask in the fact that I enjoyed the privilege in doing so, during those years I have been very busy and active in the Chicago music scene and have been evolving as a musician, trumpeter, composer and human being. In other words, playing for Maynard Ferguson has not been he only thing I have done with my musical life. It is, however, of great significance to me, and, hopefully, to others, as a trumpeter.
Getting the Gig:
After graduating from Washington University in St. Louis, Missouri, USA, with a degree in Electrical Engineering, I went to work for Motorola near Chicago. There is another long story there, but that could be the subject of another article, if there is an interest. In any case, I continued to study and progress as a trumpeter during my studies in EE and after two years at Motorola, I quit and went into music full time. As a single adult, I was considerably freer to pull a stunt like that that I would be now.
I began working with various little groups around Chicago, including small time big bands and many ballroom bands (there were still some active ballrooms around Chicago in the late 70’s). I also got fairly busy in the salsa scene as well. I was studying with the late Neal Dunlap of Vandercook College of music. Neal was teaching me how to read and play shows.
Chicago is a fairly busy town, musically, and the competition for gigs was tough. Neal wanted me to become known as a great soloist, ala Mendez, as I had a lot of technique and fairly strong chops. I wanted to be a studio musician. Chicago was one of the busiest jingle centers in the world at the time, and a full time career in the studios could prove quite lucrative, at the time (what happened there will be the subject of another article). I also wanted to be a clinician.
During this time (1979ish) I met the young woman who was to become my wife. She was very supportive of my work as a musician. Shortly after we were married (1980) we decided to make a demo tape and start really trying to promote my work more seriously.
I got my buddy, trombone player and composer/arranger, Chris Lay to write a scorching arrangement of Besame Mucho featuring a huge cadenza culminating in a big high G followed by a flashy disco version of the tune featuring lots of technical treatment and ending on a double C for maximum dazzle. We went to Bobbie Thomas’ recording studio in Lombard, Illinois, and did the recording, calling in many favors along the way.
The tape, for the time, turned out extremely well and had a nice slick sound to it. It was also about 2.5 minutes in length – a perfect demo.
Now, to shop it. I sent it out to a few folks – Clark Terry, Buddy Rich and Maynard Ferguson, all to no avail, though I got a very sweet postcard rejection from Clark Terry. As it turned out, he had already filled the chair I had heard about through the grapevine. I heard from nobody else.
Finally, I decided I was going to get a clinician gig by hook or crook. I went to the Midwest Band and Orchestra Clinic – a huge tradeshow held annually in the downtown Hilton in Chicago – and went from brass booth to brass booth pretending to demo the horns for people. I was in good shape and was attracting a crowd of high school and college kids who were following me from booth to booth (they thought I was some sort of famous trumpeter). By the time I got to the Holton exhibit, I think there were about 30 or so just hanging around with me to see what sort of egregious showing off I would do next. I played every horn the Holton folks had and every Mendez and Maynard lick I could think of. The kids were eating it up, and I reviewed each horn to them.
After I felt I was done, I started chatting with the sales rep that was on the site. His name was Joel Schilling, a fine trombone player in his own right. I asked Joel if he minded what I was doing. He just laughed his big engaging laugh and said, “Man, you can stand here and blow all day, for all I care! We love to have folks drawn here!” I then started asking him about the clinician program. I had read about the Holton program and he brought me up to speed. I gave him a copy of the tape and he said he would forward it to Sandy Sandburg, the vice president in charge of artist relations.
After a couple of days, I spoke to Sandburg who told me he was anxious to meet me and we set an appointment up to have me come up to Kenosha, Wisconsin, and tour the factory and meet with him. During our meeting he explained that he couldn’t really use me as a clinician as I really had no known reputation. He did say that Maynard had an opening. Danny Barber had left the band and several fine players had come and gone since then. He didn’t really know why, but he felt that there might be a chance for me.
We finished our meeting, parted ways and that was the end of it. Well, about a few weeks later, I was sitting in the kitchen of our tiny house in Lake Bluff, Illinois when the phone rang. It was Stu Ross, Maynard’s manager. He said he and Maynard had reviewed the tape and were most impressed. Maynard did, indeed have an opening, and they offered me the job at Maynard’s request! I was flabbergasted and thrilled. I called for my wife and told her and she, knowing full well how important this would be to my career immediately urged me to take the gig (this is significant as we had only been married for 6 months at the time!). I told Stu, I was in. He told me I could expect tickets to Orlando Florida where the winter tour was to begin and where to go.
I was now about to become a full fledged member of the Maynard Ferguson Orchestra.
Joining Up:
I arrived in Orlando filled with anticipation and a bit scared. I wasn’t really sure I deserved a chance like this – if I was really good enough to play in one of the most popular trumpet sections in the world. Yet, I was thrilled and grateful for the opportunity.
Things didn’t start well. The airlines lost my luggage. Fortunately, I carried my horn on. I had bought a MF Horn for the gig (I was never issued my own horn). Next, when I got to the hotel, I checked in and went to dinner where I met one of the sax players. He was cracking a joke and in the context of the joke he told me to “Get Bent!” I later became friends with this fellow, but at the moment I was taken aback. I felt like a rube from Hicksville.
The next morning, the band got together in a small ballroom in the hotel for a rehearsal as there were several new members. There was me, of course. Also, Sergis Yow was joining up on trumpet as well. Garfield Fobbs and Gary Valente were both new trombone players. Lindsay Blair was the new guitar player. Dave Mancini was joining up on drums, too. The rest of the band was returning. Let me list the band here.
Trumpets:
Lead – Stan Mark
2 nd – Nick Drozdoff
3 rd – Alan Wise
4 th – Sergis Yow
Trombones:
Lead – Gary Valente
2nd/bass – Garfield Fobbs
Saxes:
Alto – Jeff Kirk
Tenor – Eric Traub
Bari – Ed Maina
Rhythm:
Drums – Dave Mancini
Bass – Lou Karfa
Keys – Dave Ramsey
Guitar – Lindsay Blair
The first rehearsal was electrified for us newbies. I mean we were reading the actual charts that most of us had been listening to all through college, but here they were, right in front of us, in ink, with spit marks and everything!
The band foreman was Stan Mark, and he was tough. There is no avoiding that. However, as long as you did things the way he laid them out and tended to business, he was cool. He could be a decent and engaging fellow, as long as you didn’t mess up.
We rehearsed under Stan’s leadership till we had covered the book, and then took a break. Then in came Maynard. I’ve got to say, my heart was pounding a bit. Ferguson was friendly and kind as he was introduced to the newbies and then we ran the show again. Maynard was just back from vacation and was getting back in shape himself, so we were all in the same boat, in some ways – sorting things out. He was sure dazzling, though, in spite of the fact that he didn’t play everything (it was a rehearsal, after all).
We rehearsed things this way till we were pretty solid in the tunes and Stan’s definitive style. We were ready for the first gig.
The First Gig:
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The MF Trumpet Section |
The first gig is a memory that will be in my thoughts forever. Let me outline it briefly here.
We were playing in the Dade County Auditorium in Florida for our first show. We arrived on the bus and there was bedlam surrounding the place. Maynard was quite a draw. We got inside and got warmed up and ready to go.
The curtain was drawn as we all took our positions on the band stand. There was the usual noodling around on the horns, and then we got the nod to get ready from Stu, just off stage. Stan counted the thing off, and we went into Blue Birdland, Maynard’s signature tune. We lit into it. Now, earlier, I mentioned feeling my heart pounding a bit when Maynard came into the rehearsal for the first time. Well, now, I felt it was going to pop out of my chest. As they raised the curtain to a cheering crowd, we were playing Blue Birdland. No, I was playing Blue Birdland! The last time I heard that tune I was in the audience. Now, I was getting to play the actual chart with one of the finest trumpet sections I’d ever been with. That was a thrill, but only the beginning.
After the opening lines, we did a subito piano and Stu introduces the band and then “Columbia Recording Artist, MAYNARD FERGUSON!!” The crowd went nuts, and I could barely stand it. Maynard strutted out on stage with his usual flourish and we hit the shout chorus and he just uncorked it. In rehearsal he had been holding back, but now he just let it go and was playing crushing A’s and double C’s. When we finished the tune, the place was up for grabs. So went the rest of the concert. The band was on fire and so was Maynard.
I was actually in Maynard’s band now!
The Road:
Being on the road has its ups and downs. The ups are the gigs and the wonderful places we get to see. I got to see NYC, LA, Canada, Japan, South America ( Venezuela, in particular), to name a few. There were brutal hit and runs, where we would play a concert, get on the bus after the gig at midnight and then ride for 12 hours to the next site without ever checking into a hotel.
The pay wasn’t great. In 1981, I was getting paid $350 per week, plus a room with a roommate (no board or food!). Yup, you read that right, $350 per week! Even back then that was light, but NOBODY was doing this for the bread. It was an apprenticeship to musical life, in many ways. It was also a career boost of immeasurable proportions.
When we were in Venezuela, my last tour with the band, I was struck by the social inequity of it all. Here we were, pulling up to the concert venue in style. The guests were driving up in Mercedes and other fancy cars. Yet, in some of the Venezuelan venues, the club was right next door to tin roof shanties with dirt floors, with families and kids in bare feet and in rag-like clothes. It really made me uncomfortable to see such staggering variances in life side-by-side like that.
On the other hand, Japan was beautiful and thrilling, so much so, I want to reserve a section just for it.
I also found that I loved (and still do love) Canada. We played some lovely places in Toronto and Montreal.
There we many fun moments. I remember eating at an open air Italian restaurant in San Antonio right on the river. It was surprisingly chilly and we were all wearing our tour jackets (about four of us at our table). A bunch of kids walked by (college age) and stopped to stare and whisper amongst them. Finally a couple came up to us and asked if we were with Maynard. We said yes and then spent the time waiting for our dinner signing autographs. It turns out there was a drum and bugle corps convention going on in the area. What a “coincidence!” Well, it was certainly fun being “big stars” for the moment. It was sheer dumb fun and an ego boost, to say the least.
The bus had its challenges. Sometimes personalities would clash when we were trapped for hours in that kid of confinement. Smokers versus non-smokers could be a problem. There were other issues, too, but I want to let those rest. In any case, I would often retreat into reading books or listening to tapes and doing some solo transcription to maintain my own little world when the going got tough.
Finally, there were a few instances when tempers flared and when certain folks seemed to be behaving in an irrational fashion, but such is the challenge of life in general. We don’t always understand each other. I will not give the specifics here, as it is a personal philosophy and belief system that the only real events (meaningful, if you will) are the good ones or the ones that help us to grow.
An Interesting Experience:
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Stan Marks - Nick Drozdoff - Maynard Ferguson |
Most folks had the experience that Stan Mark was a tough task-master as the MF foreman, and mine was certainly no different. As I said earlier, as a rule, if you did your job things were generally cool.
There was one experience I had that really stuck in my mind in working with Stan. At one point in my first tour, I had a chop problem. I’m not sure how it happened (chapping, a shaving nick, whatever…), but one day near Detroit I developed a large pimple on my chops right under where the top rim of the mouthpiece hits me. It was very uncomfortable and made it very tough to play the way you need to on Maynard’s band. In short, I was going to be a mess for a couple of days.
I thought my days were numbered. I felt that I was going to be fired. I did the best I could to get ready for the gig, but it was clear something was wrong. As was bound to happen, Stan got wind of it before the gig.
I was stunned at his reaction. While brusque, he was very supportive! He told me to take it easy for a couple of days and to close in on the mic as much as possible on concerts so I wouldn’t over-work my chops on the gig. He also insisted that I simply mime the required high notes on the end of Hey Jude and actually not play. He covered my notes for me. He insisted that I do this till I was absolutely certain that things had healed up. He was actually, in his own way very kind to me during this disturbing couple of days.
I recovered quickly and had a great tour subsequently. To the best of my knowledge, Stan NEVER bad-mouthed me (spreading the word that I was the kind of player who folds under pressure or anything like that). He was a trumpet-professional gentleman about the whole matter, and I am grateful for his handling of the situation. It impressed me, to say the least.
Japan :
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Advert for the Japanese Tour |
We went to Japan for about three weeks. This was one of the more memorable experiences I had. The Japanese loved American jazz and they LOVED Maynard! Also, I found the Japanese people to be extremely nice. The big cities were incredibly safe. Tokyo has a denser population than NYC, and yet I could get lost (and did on a couple of occasions) in the “seediest” neighborhoods (seedy by Japanese standards was downright clean – there really were no truly bad areas that I could find, not that I was looking) and feel completely safe.
I did like to try to practice in hotels on the road, but with a roommate and neighbors, even practice mutes didn’t always work. This was particularly a problem in Japan as the walls seemed thinner.
One day, in Tokyo, I wanted to practice. It was a day off. I decided to take my horn and take a nice walk to a nearby park I had seen from my room. It looked larger than Lincoln Park in Chicago, so I figured I could steel away to some remote corner and practice. I walked a couple of miles and found a huge tree at the far end of the park over a little hill. It seemed to be completely removed from any hones or apartments. I sat down, leaning up against the tree, took my horn out and just started practicing. It was very peaceful and relaxing.
After about a half-hour or so I had this odd feeling I was being watched – not alone any more. It’s strange, to say that. I’ve heard of folks having that feeling and dismissed it. However, it is a real sensation. In any case, I put my horn down and turned around and there was somewhere between 6 to 10 young Japanese men standing there just staring at me. They were very casually dressed – almost sloppy. Now, keep in mind, I’m from Chicago. Being alone in a deserted corner of Lincoln Park or Grant Park with ten young guys bearing down on you like that can inspire, well, concern.
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Sophia University: Impromtu Trumpet Clinic |
They approached me and I stood up and mustered a smile and a feeble “Hello, how ya doin’!” One of the young men spoke some broken English. The first words out of his mouth were, “Are you with Maynard Ferguson?” Relieved, I said yes. It turned out that, just over the hill, was a dorm for Sophia University in Tokyo. I wasn’t as far from population as I thought (come to think of it, it is hard to get away from population in Tokyo!).
Also, these guys were with the music department and played in the big band in their school. They asked me if I would come to their band room and give a clinic on trumpet technique. I immediately agreed. They called an impromptu rehearsal with their class so that I could give a lecture. In addition to this, they asked if an English class could sit in to listen to my pronunciation and accent (rather a Midwestern US twinge, I must add). This I also agreed to.
It turned out to be an extraordinarily nice time. What an amazing and unifying thing is music. I made sure to get a picture of the event. This unique event really touched me. It is one of the things that still gives me a bit of a “road-wish,” now and then.
Steve Wiest:
Another neat experience I had was having a part in Steve Wiest getting on Maynard’s band.
One of my uncles was John Wiest. John was always my favorite uncle when I was a kid. He was one of the big reasons I played trumpet. He played trumpet and trombone in the army bands as young man and played a bit around Chicago, part time. I used to love and hold the horns when I was a kid and try to play them. When I was 12 I finally got my own horn.
John switched to trombone exclusively later on, but I was hooked on trumpet. In any case, his oldest son is my cousin, Steve. Steve, taking his dad’s lead, took up trombone. Steve grew up in southern Mississippi, and evolved into a monster trombone player. If you’ve heard him play, you know what I mean!
Steve settled in Chicago for a while, and really started rocking the scene a bit, with players. We all recognized a world-class talent. Scott Bental, another stellar talent from Chicago befriended Steve as well.
For one inexplicable reason or another, Steve didn’t connect with the local contractors in Chicago as well as I had hoped. This is their loss, but it was a bit tough on him for a while. Well, several things happened. First, for several reasons, we needed a trombone player for the summer tour. Next, the summer tour was starting in Chicago. Scott Bental has been a fixture around here for a while, and he was recommended for the job. He had to turn it down, but mentioned Steve. Next, I got a call from Stu Ross who asked me if I knew of any trombone players in Chicago who would be up for the job. I didn’t even take a breath. I immediately gave Steve such a glowing recommendation that I don’t think Stu even called anyone else at that point. They called Steve right after that, and he took the gig.
The first rehearsal with Steve was one of those moments that will be etched into my memory for ever. Oh that the world could have been there. We were at the Ascot hotel on the south side in a ballroom. We read a few charts, and then Maynard just kicked off a blues and let everyone blow a bit to relax. As the rhythm section was playing he walked over to the trumpets and, right in front of Stan Mark, said, “Let’s see how Drozdoff’s guys sounds!” He walked away. My heart was in my throat. The new guy had gotten a guy on the band. Stan leaned over to me and said, “So, you got this guy on the band, eh?” I answered; “Stu called me and asked for some names, so I just gave him his name.” I felt it prudent to leave out the part about the thoroughness of my recommendation.
Well, Maynard pointed to Steve to take a few choruses. What happened next was thrilling. Steve played several choruses of some of the best be-bop trombone blues I’ve ever heard. He just blew the doors outta the place. Also, if you know Steve, he’s got some of the strongest chops on the planet, and he’s not afraid to use them. The whole band was standing there listening with big grins and eyes like saucers wondering how this guy wasn’t the most famous player on the planet. Maynard had a big smile and came walking slowly back to the trumpets and stood there for a second, looking at us while listening to Steve, and then said, in a drool tone, “Ah, ah, he’ll do, I think.”
The rest is history. Steve is now an Edwards Trombone Artist, a successful soloist, clinician, composer, jazz professor and family man. I’m thrilled I was there to witness part of the beginning.
Tooting my own horn:
I haven’t indulged in much in the way of bragging in this article, but I’d like to do so here, so please indulge me for a moment.
One tune we did for a while was Maynard’s treatment of Pagliacci, the old Italian operatic classic. On this piece, each trumpet would walk out and play a cadenza. I mentioned earlier wondering if I really deserved this gig, and those feelings popped back into my head when Maynard told us this was going to happen. At that time, I was more of a classical player who could hit high notes pretty loud. I could read and knew how to play different musical styles properly. However, I was most definitely NOT a jazz soloist. I didn’t begin my studies with Joe Daley and Rich Corpolongo till a few years after I left the road. I was quite scared of my first attempt to do this cadenza thing.
One thing I could do was ape one of my other trumpet heroes, Rafael Mendez. In fact, I had been playing those solos since I was 16. So I worked out a bunch of ideas in my head in a minor key that involved as much flashy double tongued technique as I could think of. As I recall, though memory might be failing me here, I think the tune was in F-minor concert. The first gig I did this on, I went out and played quotes from everything from the Bach Little Fugue to the Mendez Scherzo (transposed, of course), Hungarian Rhapsody and then capped it off with an obligatory high G. I opened my eyes to a screaming crowd and turned to see Maynard smiling who shook my hand. Later, the next day, he dubbed me the “tu-ku-tu-ku” man and egged me on to do more of that.
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Nick Drozdoff - Maynard Ferguson |
The other big treat came when we were in Chicago for a series of concerts. I got to stay at home and my wife came to the concerts. I introduced her to Maynard at the Center East Auditorium in Chicago’s north shore suburbs. He was most gracious in meeting her. Later that week we were doing the legendary Rolling Meadows High School concert (a huge event in the Chicago area at that time). During the intermission, Maynard came up to me and asked if my wife was there. I told him she was. He then asked if I had much experience playing Latin salsa music. Well, I had a lot of experience with that, so another affirmative came out. He then said. Ok, on Latino Lovewalk tonight, follow my lead. He didn’t say any more.
When we got on stage for the tune (we opened the second set with it), we opened the tune up and played the head. Then the solo section came. The rhythm took it first I believe. Maynard turned to the trumpets and pointed to me. He then made the motion for me to come out front. I couldn’t believe what he was up to, so I hesitated, but I finally got the hint and went out. He told me he had this in mind as a treat for my wife. We were both going to solo, several choruses each and then trade 8’s. I was flabbergasted. I was about to be trading solos with one of my trumpet idols at one of the biggest concerts on the tour. Now, this was a thrill. As my turn came up, I lead towards the solo mice. He stopped me and said “Use the gold one (his mic). That’s the HOT one!” He wasn’t kidding.
We had at it for quite a long time. It was incredible. Again, I felt like a hero. I was a home town boy and almost all of my local trumpet buddies were there. The roar from the crowd after the tune and bows had me breathless. Needless to say, this was another moment I will always cherish.
Leaving the band:
Being on the road with Maynard Ferguson was filled with so many moments as to make it impossible to detail them all in an internet article such as this. Also, some were of a more personal nature. Perhaps, some of those could come out over dinner or some drinks if we ever cross paths.
One of the biggest challenges I had was making the decision to leave the band. After my final tour we had several weeks before the next tour. For a variety of reasons, not the least of which was I missed my wife and home, I was feeling conflicted about returning to the road. A big part of the conflict was that I love the band and the music. However, I knew I had to get my life under way.
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The Trumpet Section Rests |
I decided to make some calls. It quickly became apparent my “practical reasons” for getting on Maynard’s band were very real. It was a powerful career move. Before, contractors brushed me off as I was getting off the road with some ballroom band. Now, I was leaving one of the most respected trumpet sections in the world. That validated me as a player. I was able to fill my calendar for the rest of the year with ease. I picked up theater work, jobbing and started breaking into the jingle scene. I finally concluded that I had to leave the road.
After I knew my plate was full, so to speak, I called Kim Ferguson. We had a lovely chat as I gave notice. As mentioned before, I had several reasons for leaving, and we thoroughly discussed them all. As Maynard’s manager (she was working with Stu Ross at the time), she wanted to be informed well. We all parted ways very amicably.
Concluding Remarks:
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Nick drozdoff |
Playing on Maynard’s band, even for as short a period as I did, was a defining moment in my life as a professional musician. Notice the article “a” as opposed to “the.” It is important to me to make this clear. This wasn’t the only defining moment, but it was one of the most significant. I grew in more ways that I can explain here as young man on the road with Ferguson. I was humbled in the presence of the musicians I worked with – not just Maynard, but ALL of the band. The talent represented there was staggering. I am indeed grateful to have had that opportunity. Recently, while in the UK on vacation, I got to hear Maynard again at Ronnie Scott’s. It really took me back. My host, Noel Langley, made sure I got to hang out in the band room. I was pleased to sit and chat with the band members before the gig and during the break. I must admit to getting that feeling of wanting to be back on the road again. Perhaps I will do so with my own jazz quartet. For now, I am content to cherish the memories and enjoy my work as a freelance professional trumpeter in the greater Chicago area.
I hope this little article can bring a smile or two to you readers out there who can appreciate what an amazing thing it is to be a musician.
Peace.
Nick Drozdoff
http://www.mp3unsigned.com/NickDrozdoff.ASP