- The interview
I used to see him in New York at various scenes and events around town. I heard one of his tapes at a dinner party on the upper west side in the early eighties. He had a small but dedicated following of upper west side types of that day: Columbia hangers on, beatniks too crazy for downtown, and out-of-towners with presumptuous expectations.
Thinking back, the music he was making then was dark, blunt, and short, with the hint of a sense of humor. I heard a rumor he was almost murdered by an infatuated fan but that was never confirmed. He was playing places like “Max’s Kansas City”, CBGB, Tramps, La Mama, those kind of venues. When the “Knitting Factory” opened, he played his guitar chamber pieces there. Then he disappeared.
On a trip to Saratoga to see some aquaintances, I saw him playing the vibraphone in one of those small restaurants you see in that town.The horse crowd were eating and drinking the way they do in that town and seem to completely ignore him. On one of his breaks, I approached him and asked him if he was the same person I used to hear on tape at dinner parties in New York in the early eighties. He was surprised and suspicious and asked if I was a cop or from the IRS. I said no. I was a friend of Luigi’s. He relaxed and we fell into a brief conversation.What follows is that interview.
Me: what happened to you? I heard you were almost murdered. Is there anything to that?
Him: Where did you hear that? That’s true but I really don’t talk about that to strangers.
Me: Sorry. You’re still playing?
Him: Certainly I am. I’m not playing the same stuff. I did manage to do things over the years. I got an Orchestral piece played. I did Luigi’s movie. I’m playing tonight.
Me: You don’t do Rock any more?
Him: I do CDs, but I haven’t put any bands together. Look people like me do what we can do now.We don’t get grants.We don’t get record contracts.We don’t get university jobs.We do with where we can.Thanks for asking but I have to get back to this gig.
He went back to his instrument and finished the night playing ballads from the “Real Book”. We finished our dinners, paid the check, and left. I waved toward him and he nodded with his head. I went to his website and was glad to see so much activity in such obscurity.