Kenny Wayne Shepherd
The Blues Never Goes Out of Style
by Bill Kopp
Kenny Wayne Shepherd has a keen sense of musical history. Truly inspired by some of the blues greats, the self-taught guitarist applied what he learned. And he combined that knowledge with an omnivorous approach to music that appreciates the many styles that came from the blues: rock, soul, r&b and more. He released his debut album,, the smash hit Ledbetter Heights in 1995. A major success, it might have given some the idea that Shepherd was some sort of overnight success. But as he recalled in a recent conversation with Rock On, he got his start much, much earlier. Shepherd’s 13th and upcoming album, Dirt on My Diamonds Vol. 1 is set for release in November, with live dates to follow in support of that album. Right now, he’s headlining the all-star lineup of guitarists on the Experience Hendrix tour. We talked about that, too.
One of your early breaks happened in New Orleans, when blues guitar legend Bryan Lee invited you on stage. You were only 13 years old; how did that affect the course of your life as a musician?
Well, that was important moment for me because I had never really performed in front of people. Before I walked up on that stage, I remember thinking very clearly to myself, “This is either going to go horribly wrong and I’m never going to do this again, or it’s going to go well.
He was gracious enough to let me get up on stage. He told me I could play two songs and then I had to get down, because it was his show. When I played my first guitar solo on the first song, the crowd went crazy and I got my first standing ovation. I was really nervous. But after I played the two songs and I was trying to get off the stage, he stopped me; he wouldn’t let me get off! And he kept me up for the rest of the night.
And that gave me the confidence to move forward, start putting together my own band and feel comfortable about playing in front of people. And within the next year, I was in the studio making my very first demo recordings.
What is it about the blues that has resonated so strongly with you both as a listener and then as a musician?
It’s the feeling that’s put behind every note; that’s really what drew me in at a young age. Even at a time when I couldn’t necessarily relate to the lyrics, I could feel the passion and the emotion in the music. One of the defining factors of playing blues music legitimately is playing it from your heart, putting your soul in it and conveying emotion through it.
And then you find out what an incredible platform it is to build music off of. You know, that’s how rock and roll came to be. All forms of pop music, if you trace their lineage back to the origins, you’ll inevitably find your way back to blues music. So it’s just been an incredible foundation for me.
As part of a generation of – relatively speaking – younger blues players, do you feel any kind of responsibility to help carry the blues tradition on into the future?
“Relatively speaking!” I was just talking with someone the other day about how my generation is now becoming the old generation; we’re watching the next one come up. And it’s actually very exciting and reassuring to see. It brings back a flood of memories for me, watching these young kids get their start.
I’ve been asked that question since the day I hit the scene: “How are you going to keep it alive?” But yet here we are 30 years later, and we’re still doing it. The audience is still consuming it, and there’s still new life being brought into it. Blues isn’t pop music; it’s not the most popular thing as far as music goes. It’s never been that trendy, so it never goes out of style, either. I’ve always wanted to do whatever I could to make my contribution to the music community, out of love and appreciation for the music and the people that came before me. And as I’ve gotten older, there is a sense of responsibility. When you become successful and you have people looking to you as an example, there’s a responsibility to pass on your experience and your knowledge, to be a good example and a good influence on those people that are coming up. They’re going to pick up where you left off.
This Experience Hendrix tour showcases a whole bunch of top-flight musicians. How do you see your role within this live project?
I’m just another gear in the big machine. But what it represents is all of these incredible musicians who span many different styles and genres. It makes you realize the wide reach that Jimi Hendrix’s music has had. You can’t hardly pick up a guitar without having some sort of a Jimi Hendrix influence. He wasn’t with us, making music, for that incredibly long. But the albums that he left us with are still standing the test of time. People are still excited to hear these songs played by incredibly talented musicians today. And that’s why the tour is always so much fun, and why it does so well.
What parts of Hendrix’s artistry move you the most?
The thing that I love about Hendrix is that he took chances. He didn’t allow himself to be confined to any boundaries. What’s fascinating is the limited amount of recording technology that was available to those guys back then, and how far he was able to push those limits. He would do things and create sounds that had not quite been done before.
Hendrix was the guy that I listened to who gave me permission within my own music to not allow myself to be boxed into the confines of a particular musical label. Because he did everything: he played blues music with the best of the best, and then he would literally play whatever music was coming out of him at the time. He played it the way he felt it should be and didn’t let anybody try and tell him otherwise. Witnessing that, listening to that gave me permission to follow that path, but in my own way.
Over the years, you’ve worked with many of the biggest names in blues and in rock. Regarding a life in music, what was the best advice you ever got?
BB King gave me a lot of private advice that was more personal than professional. And some of those things, even though he’s not here with us, are probably better left between he and I.
But as far as musical things, Stevie Ray Vaughan wrote on my very first Stratocaster! He wrote a message on there, and he said, “Kenny, just play it with all your heart.” And that is what I try and do every time I pick up the instrument and plug it in, because that’s how I connect with people. My goal is to make people feel something through the music that I’m playing. And the best way I know how to do that is to play it straight from the heart.
Jewel
By Bill Kopp
Jewel has defined success on her own terms. With a fascinating and unusual backstory, the Alaska native sailed against the prevailing musical tides of ‘90s grunge, proving that there’s always a place for sensitive singer-songwriters (one of her early songs even bore the title, “I’m Sensitive”). At the height of her fame, after a pair of blockbuster-selling albums, she took a break, and when she returned, she did what she had always done: make the kind of music that she wanted to make. Now, nearly 30 years after releasing her debut album (1995’s Pieces of You), Jewel is embarking on a co-headlining tour with another musical star, Melissa Etheridge. That tour includes a July 20 concert at the Grand Sierra Resort & Casino in Reno. In this Rock On interview, Jewel talks about her beginnings, her fame, and the lessons she has learned along the way.
You started out playing in Anchorage. When you were young, what kind of lessons did you learn from that experience that you find are still useful today?
I learned a lot. I started singing with my dad when I was five, for dinner shows for tourists. So I learned to be professional by the time I was eight. I knew I had the bug. I didn’t think that would lead to a career, but I knew I loved it. It was intellectually fascinating; it was like a puzzle: “How do I get my voice to do this? How do I get it to change?” I learned to yodel at the time, and then my dad and I became a duet, and we started singing in bars . Those were five-hour sets with a lot of cover songs. My dad was a songwriter, so we did his originals mixed in there.
Musically, I was singing and listening to my dad sing. I sang harmony mostly, on some of the best songs of all time. I wasn’t raised listening to the Eagles or Elvis or the Rolling Stones, but I grew up singing harmony to their songs. I grew up hearing my dad. And having sung that many songs caused me to inherently understand storytelling and song structure. It taught me to be good with crowds. My dad never wrote a set list; he just read the audience.
But that taught me to improvise and to not be too precious. It taught me to read a crowd, and [how] to deal with drunks, which is a really critical part of our job. It taught me a lot of professionalism, to work very hard. Doing long sets like that teaches and trains your voice to have a lot of stamina. And it really taught me what I still think of as a blue collar attitude toward this job. I’m an entertainer. I’m not curing cancer. I am hired to do a job. And I think that has always kept me very grounded.
Tell me about how those experiences informed your adult career.
When I became a professional at 18, I had to start opening for Bauhaus and Belly and Catherine Wheel; I remember opening for the Ramones, too. I was a solo acoustic folk singer with a guitar in front of some unkind fan bases that did not want to hear songs like “I’m Sensitive” and “Pieces of You.”
All of that bar background made sure that I fought for people listening to me. You know, even street singing taught me that I am not background music. I want your attention. I am unwilling to let you walk by or talk while you eat. I have to have your attention, and that means I have to earn it. And so I will try a million tricks and strategies, like holding a long note out for a really long time or stopping in the middle of a song because you’re losing their attention and you stopping makes them say, “Did she just stop in the middle of a song?”
And if it comes down to it, just flat out tell the audience to be quiet; kick people out of the audience, saying, “I get that you’re here not to see me. I understand. You may all go out in the lobby. I will wait for all of you to leave. And if there’s three of you left, I will sing for three of you.” I was opening for Bob Dylan, and that ended up being what made him mentor me, when he heard I was kicking people out of his shows.
Some artists are dilettantes. They dabble in this, they dabble in that. Your forays into sort of different styles – folk, pop, Americana, country – have felt more authentic. Do you have an omnivorous approach to music?
I am a very curious person. And if I’m not growing, I’m dying. That’s just how I am. Now, there are people and artists that are iterative. They have one thing and one style, and they hone it their whole lives. And it is so authentic to them. That just isn’t what I am in my life in any way, shape, or form. I am very adventurous, and I’m always wanting to learn and grow and change. Now, that’s hard on a career, financially. The smartest thing is not to switch genres. The smartest thing is to make “You Are Meant for Me” [over and over].
But I realized that I wanted to move into other genres. I knew that was going to happen; I knew it was authentic to me. I knew I would pay a price; maybe nobody would like it. And I knew that it would take years between albums, and I would kill my momentum every time.
I grew up listening to country music. I grew up listening to Loretta Lynn and Dolly Parton. I get chill bumps saying those two women’s names; two heroic women. Those are two women to model a life after. And Johnny Cash and Merle Haggard were such a part of my ethos that I knew I wanted to make those [kinds of] albums.
So I had to switch labels. I had to build relationships in a whole other radio category. It shouldn’t be that painful. You would have thought I was murdering children because I made pop music or because I made a country album! But it’s gotten easier now. I watched Taylor [Swift] go from country to pop, and I was like, “Good!”
Tell me about the upcoming tour.
I guess it’s different just because I’m touring. I don’t tour that much. I took a good seven years off when I had my son and became a single mom, and then toured with Train two years ago. I wanted tour again and was looking for the right fit for multiple reasons, and I was really convinced that Melissa Etheridge and I are going to be a really wonderful bill together.
I almost did a tour with a very famous band, and I would have [only] broken even after four months. It’s just not a real appealing thing. That’s just not a great proposition as a single mom, and who wants to spend four months of their time breaking even? But I get it. I had a price to pay because I don’t have the same ticket power as I had before. So that’s fine, but you have to find a way to solve things that work for you. So I pitched Melissa on this idea: let’s split everything. Let’s split the band. Let’s use the same band and crew. And it’s allowed me as a single mom to tour less, but to still make some money. I’m pretty excited about that.
Shaggy
Shaggy
Shaggy
By Bill Kopp
Shaggy is an international superstar. The dancehall reggae sensation has earned blockbuster album and single sales in the U.K. and beyond with his strong voice and inimitable style. Born in Jamaica but a longtime U.S. resident, he has been landing hits on the charts since 1993. While he easily holds his own as a performer, these days he’s as likely to embark upon a collaborative project, helping younger artists gain a foothold in the music industry. He’s currently on tour across North America, but found time to sit down for a conversation with Rock On.
I get the sense that for you, reggae is a canvas that you paint on. Instead of coloring inside the lines, you use reggae as a foundation, adding other elements to create the finished pieces. Would you agree, and if so, how did you develop that approach?
I would agree with that. Look at music overall: Do-re-mi-fa-so-la-ti-do. We’re not inventing the wheel here, bro. You know what I mean? It’s really your experience to something that’s already been there. You could talk about different melodies, but there’s only so much you could do. What you bring to each recording is based on your feeling, your journey. If you asked me to make music that I was making in the early ‘90s, I can’t make that right now because I’m not in that place. I could duplicate what I’ve made, but I can’t really make it. With technology now, anybody could sound good. But can everybody make you feel? Can they evoke an emotion out of you? And that comes, I think, with pain, whatever situations and pains you go through.
I was a kid when I did Boombastic (1995). You might be asking, “What kind of pain are you really singing about in that song?” Because it’s really not about the subject matter of the song; it’s really about what the song is doing to my life at that point, and the opportunity that I’m bringing into singing. So if I say “Mr. Boombastic,” I might have talking about being romantic, fantastic, the greatest lover and all of that. But at that point, I was a kid who wasn’t getting laid!
And when I got famous I was like, “I can’t believe this!” So you’re hearing the pain of that, of me basically saying, “Wow, I have actually peaked. I have struggled to where now I actually get laid!” So sometimes it’s not really the subject matter, but it’s the pain of what you’ve gone through.
I remember the first time I got dropped from Virgin Records. There was a young lady that used to do promo for me. I’ve eaten at her house. When her kid was born, and I bought her kid jewelry. She was in the trenches with me every day, doing these interviews.
And once I got dropped, she wouldn’t answer my call. I was like, “Oh, shit!” For her, it was a job. For me as a young kid, she meant something to me. She was my family, but I quickly learned, “Okay, well, I guess this is what it is.” So on my next journey, I’m looking at things totally from a different angle. So you will express all of these pains that you’ve gone through these compositions that you’ve made.
So you’re right: it is a canvas that I’m actually painting, but I’m painting the picture of my life as I move through it.
Shaggy
Shaggy
Obviously we’re going way back here. But on “Angel” from 2000’s Hot Shot, you used a familiar sample, something that is widely recognized, and took it someplace very different. When you were doing things like that, would you start with the sample and build on that?
My early producer was a guy by the name of Sting International. Not Sting of The Police; different guys. I was lucky enough to have Sting International as a producer, but he was also a deejay and avid vinyl record collector. His whole house was filled with vinyl. He literally could be producing and say, “This needs something, and I’m taking this from a James Brown record from 1965.” He knew his records like that. He knew how to arrange because he knew how records are supposed to sound.
But he used to give me these CDs filled with different samples, because he had a great ear. I might get 30 samples, I might get ten samples. I would listen, and whatever spoke to me, I went with. And I heard Steve Miller’s “The Joker” as a sample. And the first thing I said was, “This riff sounds like a reggae riff.” At that point, I fell in love with that sample. I didn’t even know the original song! I was young at the time [it was released]. But I could hear something that was speaking to me, something I liked.
We came up with the verses first. “Life is one big party when you’re still young, but who’s gonna have your back when it’s all done?” And Rick Rock walked in to the studio in Jamaica. He just started to sing, “Girl, you’re my angel, you’re my darling,” which is from Juice Newton. And I was like, “That fits really good. Let’s change some of the words to peeps and shorty.” And then we had something that sounded really cool.
About two days after that, I ended up doing the second verse and the bridge; then we had a song. We turned it in to Sting International, and he started to add all the guitars and things around it. Then we had a record that we thought sounded special.
My manager told me the other day, “Inspiration is a luxury; you’ll find inspiration if you gotta pay your bills.” And those bills ain’t waiting for inspiration, bro. So you better find it.
I think as you get success, you get less inspired because you’re not forced. So you’ve got to keep the hunger. Which is why I rarely do records with big superstars. Recently I did “Habibi (I Need Your Love)” with Mohombi and Faydee, two unknown guys. I did “Banana” recently. Over a billion streams with Conkarah, an unknown guy. And I did “Go Down Deh” recently with Spice, who’s certainly not a big superstar. And now I have a new record called “Move” with another unknown artist by the name of Lavinia.
And the reason for doing this, it’s not strategic in any way. For one, it’s how inspired I am by these people; Lav, here’s a girl that is really a dancer. She holds a note good, so I’m like, “Okay, but I could make her sound great.” And her voice compliments mine. So that is inspiring to me. When you get people that are in the trenches with you, it’s the inspiration that you get from them that makes you do these things. All I want to do at this point is to stay inspired.
These artists don’t have the same name recognition as you. There have been quite a few singles. At this point, are you focusing on these self contained projects, singles rather than albums?
You know, if I listen to my manager, it’d be like, “You really need to do a Shaggy album because it helps your touring, it ignites your fan base.” You got to understand:, I’m doing Shaggy for the last 30 years. If I’m doing a Shaggy album right now, I have to be saying something. It’s gotta move me. And right now I’m getting most of the inspiration from these people. So I’m looking for the inspiration that is going to make me find something that is special. And to me, if you’re not going to go for greatness, then why do it?
The single “Peligroso,” that also takes things in a little bit of a different direction.
Maffio is a great producer. He does a lot of these Latin artists. He sent me just a beat, and he says, “I’m doing something. Could you give me a verse?” I spit a verse. Sometimes the inspiration will come through, maybe from the track, maybe from a joke, maybe from a person in the room. I take it from anywhere and any place. I don’t have to be in any particular place, you know?
And I’m not the guy that’s like, “Okay, it’s three in the morning. I gotta get up because I’m inspired.” No, I’m not that guy. I go into the studios from seven to ten, and between seven to ten, you’re gonna get the song. Now, the trick is whether I like it or not. I write a lot of shit I don’t like, and I don’t care if anybody else likes it. I make music selfishly.
If you create something you don’t like, do you set it aside with the possibility of using it later?
I’ll finish it even if it’s not moving me, because that’s my work ethic, I was in the military for four years, and I’m just that kind of a guy. It’s very rare that I’ll go back to it, but I have done that before where I go back to something, take a piece of it, or parts of it, or the idea of it, or maybe the subject matter of it and flip it again.
On a good day, I’ll write an average of four songs. I could sit down and knock four of them out. But nobody wants to do that because first of all, it’s boring as fuck. I’m clearly good at it, but I find it the most tedious fucking thing ever. No, I do not enjoy the process.
That’s why I surround myself with a lot of people; it has to be a room full of jokes. Because it is so boring. And you’re just sitting here with your thoughts, and I’m not that guy. I’m a stage guy. I want to be on stage. I will sing the same song 30 times as long as I get 30 different reactions.
I’ve been listening to Come Fly Wid Me: The Sinatra Songbook Inna Reggae Style. It’s an inspired album concept. Those songs sound like they were written to be arranged the way that you do them. Is that something that had been gestating in your mind for a long time?
What if I tell you that is my favorite album that I’ve ever done?
First of all, it was the most challenging thing forever because Sting [this time, the former Police man – ed.] saw something in me that I couldn’t see. We’re on the fjords in Norway and we’re doing the tour in support of our album 44/876 at the time. We had a day off and he’s like, “Let’s get a boat!” We went out there and he’s jumping in this water. It’s freezing! You know, I’m from Jamaica; I’m not gonna jump in that shit. He’s like, “Oh, come jump in, Shaggy.” I’m like, “No, I don’t feel like freezing my ass off.” He’s over there in his little Speedo. And I’m like, “Yo, fuck that.”
So I put my phone on some Bluetooth. And I have a Sinatra playlist. You know, what a lot of people don’t know is radio stations in Jamaica didn’t start playing reggae music on the radio 24/7 until around the ‘70s. Before that, it was a lot of American music: people like Bing Crosby and Nat King Cole, and a lot of country music. And Sinatra was a big part of my household growing up.
But anyway, Sting heard me sing along with one of the songs. He just cocks his head and says, “Oh, my God, do that again.” And I kept singing. It was like, “That’s your key.” I’m like, “What are you talking about?”
He says, “Your voices are so similar.” He’s always just heard me do dancehall reggae things. And Sting’s like, “Wouldn’t it be great if we would do a cover of that?” And then he said, “Wouldn’t it be great if we do it in reggae?” Then we start talking. Of course we’re having a couple of drinks at this point. And we’re like, “Well, maybe we do an album of it.”
This thing sat around for two years. The world went through Covid, done with Covid, Sting’s playing a residency. I came to see him, and he takes up the guitar, and he started playing a couple of chords from “Come Fly With Me.” I just started singing with him. And he’s like, “We should really do this.” It was about Christmas time. He says, “We should do it in January.”
Sting showed up in Miami at my house and says, “Come, Shaggy; let’s do this.” And so now I’m scrambling, trying to get musicians. We flew a couple people in from Jamaica for the rhythm section, and I was like, “Okay, let’s see what we come up with.” Sting picked the songs that were gonna do, and now we had to figure out how to make those chord changes work in reggae to where it sounded cool and not corny.
And that was where the challenge was, and where the magic came. We averaged about two songs a day on vocals. And within about six weeks, we had the whole project all wrapped up as far as the making of the songs. It was just incredible; we did a couple of shows together, him and me.
38 Special: Rockin’ Into the Future
38 Special: Rockin’ Into the Future
38 Special: Rockin’ Into the Future
By Bill Kopp
38 Special started out like many other bands in and around Jacksonville, Florida in the late ‘60s and early ‘70s, with a Southern rock sound and attitude to match. But over time, the more nuanced and melody-leaning characteristics of the band came to the fore, giving them a hit single just in time to save them from being dropped by their label. And from there, working with a world-class songwriting collaborator, things only got bigger. 38 Special became a hit attraction, with blockbuster-selling albums and singles, MTV videos and high-profile tours.
But the band co-founded by Don Barnes never forgot where they came from, and Barnes is still rocking today, fronting the band’s current lineup. As 38 Special celebrates its 50th anniversary, the group is currently on a North American tour. Don Barnes gets into conversation with Rock On about the band’s early days, its biggest successes, and what the future holds.
38 Special: Rockin’ Into the Future
38 Special: Rockin’ Into the Future
When you and Donnie Van Zant started the band, his brother Ronnie was in the process of finding massive success with Lynyrd Skynyrd. How much of an influence were they upon what 38 Special was doing?
Greatly influenced. We were all from the same city. Jacksonville is a Navy town, so a lot of these groups – Molly Hatchet, Skynyrd, The Allman Brothers Band – everybody came from that same area because of the Navy bases that we all played as young guys. We all played sailors’ clubs; at 15 and 16 years old, you’d make $100 a week. So all of those guys – Ronnie Van Zant, Duane Allman – everybody played the enlisted men’s clubs because there was a venue there for young guys to put a little band together and actually go make a little money. It’s kind of like the Liverpool thing, a port city.
And then, of course, they had the proms, teen clubs and dances. Ronnie and all those guys were the best band in Jacksonville; they were called The One Percent. They would win the Battle of the Bands. And, of course, when they changed their name, we thought, “Oh, you gotta be kidding! Lynyrd Skynyrd?’” But we looked up to those guys and we saw them improve every day, every week. You’d see Allen [Collins] and Gary [Rossington] and just watch them develop. And we were influenced by them.
The band took a while to find major success. You changed your sound after a few albums in a Southern rock style. How did that come about?
We were really behind the eight ball there. We had three albums that basically went straight over the cliff. Today people think that “Hold On Loosely” was on our first album. That was our fourth album! But, you know, it just shows you conviction and fortitude to keep yourself together. And a band is like a marriage: you’re a support group there, and you’re kind of married to five other guys. There are some guys who would get a little down and think, “This is not working out. I’ve got to get a regular job. I’ve got a family.” But we would always be holding each other up and saying, “It might be right around the corner; we don’t know. We got a few steps forward here, so let’s keep at it.”
The band’s peak began and sustained once you started writing with Jim Peterik. How did that relationship come about?
Our label at the time was A&M Records; they’re very artist oriented. That’s why we went with them, because they would have patience. They’d have an A&R [Artists and Repertoire] department that would try to help you out, bring you material.
John Kalodner had resurrected the career of Aerosmith and several other bands. Well, the band Survivor – who no one had heard of yet – had done an album, and they had a song called “Rockin’ Into the Night” that they didn’t put on their album. But John said, “This song, it’s got some legs. It might have some potential. Do you think that 38 Special might be willing to try it out?”
We were desperate, so we went to the studio and put “Rockin’ Into the Night” together, and it worked out enough. It was a Top 40 song; it didn’t change our life or anything. But it did open the door to radio a little bit. So that was the beginning of a little road to success.
And then our manager said, “Would you like to write with Jim Peterik, the guy who wrote ‘Rockin’ Into the Night’?” Sure! We flew up to Chicago. Jim asked us, “What’s going on with your lives?” I was going through a bad time in a marriage relationship. I had been thinking, “What is it about people that can’t seem to tolerate their differences? They try to change the other one or keep them under their thumb, or they’re jealous of what they’re trying.” I had my little notebook of song lines and titles, and I had written down a title.
So I said to Jim, “What do you think about this title: ‘Hold on Loosely.’”
And he said, “...But don’t let go.” And that’s the first thing that came out. I thought it was an absolutely perfect couplet for that piece of advice. And we were off to the races. Two hours later, we had written our first song together, and it turned out to be the biggest anthemic song of this band’s career. Two hours later!
Does that songwriting partnership continue to this day?
Yes! I was just at his house about a month ago. We’ve got some new songs. The chemistry is still there all these years later. We sat around, went to dinner and had a lot of laughs. We were cranking them out; we’ve got some good stuff coming up here.
We’re putting together a legacy package for our 50th anniversary next year. It’s going to be a box set with one CD of all the hit songs over the years, and then the other CD has new songs and some previously unreleased ones.
What will the shows on this tour be like?
We’ve lined up all these songs; we bang them up against each other. We take the audience for a ride. We start with an explosive opening, and we keep climbing and climbing. We’ve always gone after it like a football team: we’re out there to win. And when we were an opening band, god help who had to follow you because we were going to throw down. We were going to put everything we got. It means everything to us. And we still go out there like a team, to win.
Years from now, when people talk about the band, how would you like 38 Special to be remembered?
As guys that gave 110%. We always have tried to be the best at what we do. You’ve gotta think you are the best band in the world; that’s what your attitude has to be, and that’s how we always approach it.
It’s funny. We’ll play some of these big fairground grandstands. There’ll be 10,000 people out there. And [in the audience] you’ll see a guy probably my age, and he’s letting himself get old. He brought his wife to the fair, and he’s sitting there with his arms folded.
I’m playing to that guy. Those guys, those naysayers? I play to them.
Barry Kerch of Shinedown - Hot Sauces and Sizzling Rock
by Bill Kopp
Launched 23 years ago in Jacksonville, Florida, Shinedown makes its own brand of passionate, high-energy alt-rock. With seven albums to its credit (2022’s Planet Zero is the latest), Shinedown is both a consistent chart success and a hot concert attraction. Fronted by singer, songwriter and guitarist Brent Smith, the group holds the record for the most #1 singles on Billboard’s Mainstream Rock chart (19 to date). In fact every single one of Shinedown’s singles has made it into that charts Top 5.
And rocking isn’t all that the group is up to these days. Drummer Barry Kerch has recently taken the lead in developing a line of Shinedown custom-branded hot sauces. Working with Torchbearer, Kerch has applied his hot sauce expertise – he has grown peppers at home for his family – the whip up three unique flavors. The flagship flavor is Symptom Garlic Chipotle Sauce; it features a subtle kick, a hint of smokiness, just the right amount of thickness, and a lovely finish. Two additional varieties will debut this year.
Ahead of Shinedown’s July 27 concert date at the Nugget Event Center, Barry Kerch was happy to speak with Rock On about his band. Those delicious hot sauces certainly came up in the conversation, too.
Let's go way back to the beginning. How did you find out about the audition opportunity for Shinedown?
That came about through my brother. He's a radio deejay here in Jacksonville. And he had gotten a CD at the station of this Brent Smith demo project, and heard that they were looking for drummers. Brent already had the original bass player and guitar player. I had just moved up here to Jacksonville from Orlando for a job. And I said, “Man, I love this guy's voice. Let me go to audition.” I called them. Brent said, “Let's have a meeting first. And we met at a Hooters, of all places. We had a couple of beers and he said, “All right, let's try you out.” The next day I worked my way into the position I'm in now.
I read that you were the seventh drummer to try out! Did you know that going in?
I knew that they had tried out a few. At the time I didn't know that I was the seventh, because were still establishing that relationship. But I knew one of my good friends had also auditioned, a guy named Matt Brown. And he's a fantastic drummer, so I knew that. But seven is my lucky number. I was born in the seventies on the August 7. So it's kind of been my thing.
When you joined, what did you understand as the vision or goal for the group?
When they said, “Okay, let's audition,” we went to their little practice space. I played the song “45,” and I played a song called “Lacerated,” because they wanted to see what I would do with that. It went great, and they said, “How about tomorrow, we're going to go into the studio and we'll record ‘45,’ because we want to see if you can record in the studio.” Because some people get “red light fever.”
I went in, we recorded “45.” They said, “This is great. You're with us.” Fast forward, we finally come up with a band name. We get the approval from Atlantic. We're in L.A., recording the first record, we do this grandiose version of “45” with orchestra and all this stuff, and it was great. We turn everything into the label. And our A&R guy says, “Man, there's just something about that original demo version.” So that version you hear on the record is actually my audition.
Brent was previously in a band called Dreve. They were signed to Atlantic, and made an album that never got released. But at that time, Ahmet Ertegun was still the head of Atlantic, and he was known for developing artists back when they actually did artist development.
So Ertegun said to Brent, “I know you have something, but you're not there yet.” And that's when Brent ended up down here and started forming what is now Shinedown. Brent made it very clear early on to Atlantic: “I do not want to be a solo artist. I will not be a solo artist. I want to be in a band. That's my goal.” And that was the vision: “We're going to be in a band, and we're going to try to take over the world.”
Looking back at 20 years, it was never given to us, and it was never easy, and we never rose to the top real quick, like a lot of the bands did… ones that are no longer here. And I'm so thankful.
It took so much hard work and really taught us a lot of life lessons, because in those early days, if we would have shot to the top, we'd be gone.
With Brent being sober for quite a few years now, we've re-energized ourselves and really come together as a group. It's better now than it's ever been with the four of us. And with that, the mission is even stronger. We’ve never been a band that looks back and thinks, “Oh, look at what we accomplished.” Instead, we go, “That was cool. What's next?” We're selling out 20,000 people in arenas here in the states and in the UK. We can do the same in the rest of the world. We've got a lot more to do, and we want to be in stadiums. So we're just getting started, and that's the way we always look at it. We're always hungry. We're always working hard. We never take a break.
When they said, “Okay, let's audition,” we went to their little practice space. I played the song “45,” and I played a song called “Lacerated,” because they wanted to see what I would do with that. It went great, and they said, “How about tomorrow, we're going to go into the studio and we'll record ‘45,’ because we want to see if you can record in the studio.” Because some people get “red light fever.”
I went in, we recorded “45.” They said, “This is great. You're with us.” Fast forward, we finally come up with a band name. We get the approval from Atlantic. We're in L.A., recording the first record, we do this grandiose version of “45” with orchestra and all this stuff, and it was great. We turn everything into the label. And our A&R guy says, “Man, there's just something about that original demo version.” So that version you hear on the record is actually my audition.
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Let’s shift from talking about music to hot sauce. The Shinedown hot sauces are really good. How did that new enterprise come about?
It was kind of organic and kind of by chance. Torchbearer, who we partnered with, approached us and said, “Do you think you guys might be interested in this?” And I went, “Yep, I'm your guy! It's me. I love hot sauce.” Half of my fridge is hot sauce. Literally. I make my own, I grow my own peppers. I am a hot sauce nerd and have been since I was a little kid. So then the main guy at Torchbearer and I started going back and forth: “What flavor profiles do you like?” We started spitballing ideas, and he said, “Okay, let me make up some samples.” He’d send me a bunch, and then I’d say, “I like this, I don't like this, and maybe this one needs this.”
Torchbearer has been around for about 20 years, so they really know what they're doing. They have a huge selection of sauce. He's like, “Should we add a little more arrowroot to make it a little thicker?” We got into those levels, and we spent about five, six months on it. And we finally came up with three products that we really were proud of, that fit both of our ideas.
The Symptom Garlic Chipotle is the first one released; the other two are coming soon. It was fun to do, and I would absolutely do it again. But what was really nice about it is that it's a true passion. Shinedown didn't slap their name on some hot sauce that was given to us: “Here you go, here's a hot sauce.” We worked hard on that, and it's something I'm proud of. I would never put Shinedown’s name – or my own personal name – on something I didn't believe in.
Samantha Fish
By Bill Kopp
At a mere 35 years old, Samantha Fish is a musical icon. Though she came to fame as a blues guitarist, there’s much more to the Kansas City-born musician. Her work transcends genre, and has substantial crossover appeal. Add to that the fact that she’s a guitar hotshot, and you’ve got an artist who turns out quality albums and puts on a great live show. Her latest release is a collaboration with Jesse Dayton, Death Wish Blues. Her current tour features just Fish and her band, digging into her substantial back catalog. Rock On spoke with Samantha Fish about her creative process and her approach to her art.
Your recording work spans a whole lot of genres: blues, rock, pop, soul, Americana. Do you approach each album with a specific style or musical theme in mind, or is it more of a case of each record simply representing where you are musically at that given moment?
I think it's a bit of both, honestly. When you're writing songs, they take shape in the studio, and I think the situation defines the sound of the music: where you're recording, how you're recording, who you're recording with. And then you're capturing a moment, and sometimes that moment becomes a concept in and of itself. But when I'm writing songs, I'm just trying to get the best out of me that I possibly can: “What are the catchiest melodies? What's really going to speak to people?”
But every time you go into a situation where you're writing and you're creating, it's like you're a different person than you were the last time. You're basing these songs and this creative approach off of who you are now. So sometimes that defines the sound, but it's a little bit of both. With the record I made with Jesse Dayton, we definitely had a style in mind. We kept calling it our “North Star.” [We’d ask ourselves,] “Does this fit within the parameters of what we're trying to create?”
Do you make a conscious effort not to repeat yourself musically?
Yeah. There's a vocabulary that you have as an individual. And that's hard, because I have repeated myself before. And then you get frustrated. You're like, “Where did I hear that song before? Oh, you wrote it seven years ago, you ding dong!” So you try hard not to repeat yourself.
I want to grow and I want to do something new. That's the beautiful part about making art: you get to be creative and try different things. When I feel like I'm scratching the surface of something different, something that I haven't done before, that's when I feel the most excited about what I'm doing.
But at the end of the day, good music is good music. And if it's something that fits in your catalog naturally because it has a certain feel to it that is reminiscent of your other work, it's not necessarily a bad thing. But you just have to keep pushing yourself out of that comfort zone.
How did you first connect with Jesse Dayton?
I met Jesse twelve years ago in Kansas City. I would go to this club called Knuckleheads all the time. Literally every day of the week I'd be in there, just trying to soak up what was going on. They had local talent, but they also had people coming in from all over the country. It was a touring spot, and Jesse was one of the artists who frequented there. He came in a couple times a year, and people just loved him. So I knew about him from then, and then I kept up with him like everybody keeps up: through social media.
And I became a fan of his hustle, to be honest. He has his really diverse solo career that he's been nurturing for years and years. He's backed up so many amazing legendary musicians, and that's pretty incredible. And then he's got his foot in the rock world with John Doe and with Danzig; I always thought that was really cool. And then he's a cinema buff and he was in the Rob Zombie movies. He's written books; the dude has got a lot going on. So I knew he was fearless, but it didn't come up to have him on this record until January of 2022.
My manager and I had been talking about this project for a long time, this idea to do a collaborative record, something rock and roll. But we didn't know who the other person would be. And then when Jesse came through New Orleans in January 2022, it was like a lightbulb moment: “He'd be perfect, because he's fearless.” And he was open to it.
Some of the press materials for the tour note that you're going to be playing songs from throughout your catalog. Does that mean that you'll introduce material you haven't done in a while, maybe even songs that you've never played live?
Yeah, we'll be adding in more stuff. We just wrapped up the Death Wish tour, so now it's like putting together a new show. It's the first time in my career that I haven't had a new record to focus on when putting a tour together. It's fun to go back and reimagine older material. I'm excited to take on that challenge of going back and connecting with the older songs and trying to bring them into 2024 and where I'm at now. It'll be a nice way to spend the year, while I'm gearing up for the next thing.
What appeals to you most about playing live?
The feeling that you get. When you really connect with an audience and they're right there with you, there's this thing that happens. It's a beautiful thing, and it's universal. It happens all over the world: people's appreciation for music. I could go play to a crowd where English is not the default language, but we still have the same feeling and the same experience with each other.
I still feel great on stage. I still feel that excitement. I'm trying so hard to do something. And when you can actually pull it off, it’s a really cool feeling. I don't know how to describe it, other than it's like being on a roller coaster.
What can people expect when they come to the show in July at Crystal Bay, Nevada?
I'm bringing in my four piece band. It's a pretty rock and roll show; it doesn't stop. It moves from start to finish. We're going 100 miles an hour. The way the show starts, I come out and hit people right in the face. And the show doesn't really slow down; it’s an energy-driven, guitar-driven, rock and roll, fun, loose time.
