2006 - Release of the Rock Star Dream

As the New Year dawned, I had the feeling that 2006 would either make or break Levelsix. The band was at a crossroads. We had achieved some measures of success, yet overall Levelsix was still more of an expensive hobby than a growing career. And the excitement and fun that once characterized our activities was feeling more like the obligation of going to work with co-workers who were not getting along.

Meanwhile, I was developing an exciting new relationship with Felicia Bamberg. She was a lovely young woman, filled with a brightness and perhaps naivety that I found both attractive and precious. She was 18 and it seemed she had not quite sensed her own beauty yet, but I felt she was a blossoming flower. Though I was her first boyfriend, she was not my first girlfriend. Yet, I allowed myself to fall for her. She was ready for such a personal relationship to unfold in her life as well. 

Comedically, for my tough-image macho friend Sam Ackerman’s birthday in late January, he and I had a bit of a suspicious date night. First, we got stoned and stuffed ourselves at a delicious Chinese restaurant. We proceeded to the Sheepshead Bay UA Theater to see the controversial film Brokeback Mountain about a complex romantic relationship between two American cowboys. He bought “tickets for two” in front of a line of other movie-goers. Afterwards we bought a couple of Bacardi Wine Coolers and found ourselves back at my apartment. I enjoyed telling all my friends about it afterwards to mess with them and freak them out. The Levelsix guys obviously retorted, “Wow John, you’re so gay!”. I just smiled and laughed. 

On Sunday February 19^th I hosted my first student guitar recital. It was held at St. Paul’s Lutheran Church[1] in Coney Island. Several of the participating students were quite advanced. As part of my being an active and serious guitar player in the local scene for several years I had attracted a certain type of student. I also taught with a level of intensity meant to bring about the highest potential from my students. The students composed original arpeggio pieces well in advance and for the recital, learned and performed a fellow student’s piece. There was a rich guitar playing environment that day. 

I would be invited by Felicia to join her and friends on nature hikes. A frequent beautiful location was Hudson Highland State Park. There are some trailheads accessible from the Metro North train stop in Cold Spring, NY such as the Cornish Estate Loop which takes the hiker up the mountain through the forest. Breathing the beautiful mountain air while surrounded by woods and the occasional haunting ruins of buildings built in another era created an enchanting atmosphere of mystery and wonder. And I loved reaching the summit to be rewarded with gorgeous views of the surrounding mountains and nearby Hudson River. Hiking was a challenge, yet I really appreciated these group excursions into nature. There was a therapeutic and healing element in it. Nature constantly reminded me of how simple and beautiful life could be.

I was living at home in The BASEment apartment at Mom’s. Although I was paying rent and had my own entrance into the house, I still felt the constraints of living at home. Mostly because my brother and I would butt heads all too often. I was also growing sick of owning a car and feeling like I was earning just enough to keep myself in a cycle of repeating and diminishing “thrills” that didn’t seem to be building into anything substantial neither financially nor spiritually. I was getting by and having fun but had no clear direction for my future.

Levelsix was still in the forefront of my priorities although I found myself longing for the day when I did not “have to go” to rehearsals or band meetings. I was also growing sick and tired of the disunity between band members. On the surface things seemed ok but the fractures between us were beginning to show. I basically liked the sound we had and enjoyed playing with the group, but try as I might, I could not influence the band to create positive music, which I would have been able to stand behind more confidently. The music’s tone and especially the dark lyrics were not a match for the person I was striving to become. I no longer wanted to promote our band to people and encourage them to spend their precious time and money on us to come out to the city and see us perform. I also did not like that I was constantly inviting people to come out and drink. For what? It just didn’t seem to be leading anywhere productive. At my core, I was looking for something that I could promote and share with people in a much more open-hearted and confident way. I was seeking to be a part of something I could believe in and stand for.

One day I was with Felicia at her place during the afternoon. We were enjoying ourselves, but the reality of a band rehearsal that night loomed over my head. Man, I want to stay here, I don’t want to go. I looked out the window at a beautiful spring sky and silently longed to be free of the obligation to go to these frequent and stressful band activities. Enjoying a simple and relaxed day with my girlfriend was becoming a lot more appealing to me than diving into a thorny and smokey atmosphere with unhappy comrades while continuing the pretense of wanting to create a career together.

On April 27^th, construction began on One World Trade Center (Freedom Tower) in Manhattan. It had been four and a half years since the Twin Towers fell and it seemed the city was finally ready to begin something fresh. As May came around there was something fresh and inspiring going on for me as a composer-creator. Our musical, Painting the Windwas finally going to have a staged reading. Paul Kaplan and I had been working together on this with much love and attention since summer 2004 and this would be the apex of our work together on this project. Paul and I auditioned musical directors for the brief production. A few people of various abilities and skill levels came in and then in walked Paul Staroba, a young man looking to make a name for himself in the world of musicals and staged works. We put the music score, which I had painstakingly composed over the previous twenty months, in front of him. He effortlessly sight-read[2] each song we showed him as if he had composed the music himself. Holy moly! We had our guy.

As I was the composer of the musical, Paul Kaplan trusted me to put the band together. Joined by our highly competent musical director Paul Staroba, I assembled four more capable musicians: drummer Bob Henson, flautist Kristy F., guitarist Ronnie N. and bassist Andy N. We went into Electric Plant Sound Studios to capture a few lovely recordings with the help of Vee. Directed by Kate Marks[3], we had one rehearsal with cast and musicians and the next night on Thursday, May 25^th, we put on a staged reading of the full show (minus costumes and set). It was amazing! As the composer, I felt both satisfied and complete in having seen and heard it all come together even if in a stripped-down version[4]. 

The end of the May held another event which boosted my confidence as a composer. Dave Evans had been studying film at Brooklyn College and had asked to include some of my original classical guitar music in his short film about a unique wood sculptor to complement the natural vibe of this sculptor’s works. I was eager to have my music grow and take on a life of its own and so happily agreed. On Wednesday May 31^st, Dave Evans’ short film Wharton Eshrick: Works in Wood was featured at the 24^th Annual Brooklyn College Student Film Festival. The short and inspiring film about a unique and powerful American wood sculptor featured musical excerpts from my collection of guitar pieces, The Season Studies[5].

On Father’s Day, Sunday June 18^th, Brooklyn Music House hosted its Annual Spring Recital in Levenson Hall at Brooklyn College. This was significant for me, a chance to showcase the progress of my students at Brooklyn Music House in a formal setting and as a Brooklyn College alumnus myself, it felt extra special to be on familiar turf. 

Felicia and I took a trip upstate to the Adirondacks in the summer to visit Paul Kaplan and his partner. We enjoyed laid-back quality time with our hosts as well as their fabulous meals. Paul showed us around. We visited a lake, a river, hiked some local trails, and went to the Adirondack Museum at Blue Mountain Lake. Being in the fabulous natural atmosphere of the Adirondacks was both refreshing and rejuvenating. I loved simply being in the thinly populated areas with so much thriving nature at an elevation of over 1,500 feet. I wished I could have stayed for a long time but alas, returning to the city was imminent.

Nature has always reminded me of my true essence and purpose on this planet. Funny enough, I was sometimes mildly disappointed to acknowledge how much of a nature boy I was. I felt caught between two worlds. Man, pursuing the fast-paced, electrified, and exaggerated lifestyle of a professional rocker seems at odds with my true self, huh? Darn it! Perhaps due to my pursuit of the “rock star dream” from childhood I felt as if I were betraying my youthful self by no longer deeply desiring to be a rock star guitar extraordinaire. I had long sensed this conflict deep inside: so much of my personality aligned with rock music and so much of it did not. What could be my honest and balanced path forward?

Levelsix was continuing to rehearse at our private studio room in Rockaway, Queens (Rockaway Beach Boulevard near Beach 115^th Street). As fate would have it, when we moved from our small studio room on the 2^nd floor into a larger room on the 1^st floor, we happened to become neighbors with our local heroes, Brooklyn goth rockers Type O Negative. It was a cool feeling to hear our musical role models rehearsing literally on the other side of our adjoining wall. Occasionally we ran into Type O band members in the lobby. We shared a common bathroom which was gross and poorly maintained. So, even if we do make it to a certain level of success such as that of our esteemed rock star neighbors, we may still be subject to gross bathrooms with no warm water, no hand towels and only rarely toilet paper or soap.

I couldn’t put my finger on it, but something was not sitting right with me. As if to echo shifting perceptions, in late August the International Astronomical Union (IAU) redefined the term “planet” and our beloved ninth planet Pluto was demoted to the status of dwarf planet. Hmm, maybe some things are not what they seem, huh? Or maybe the same thing could be experienced completely different depending on the eye of the beholder.

Levelsix had some basic merchandise to promote ourselves with at shows, but we had no active way of getting our stuff out there besides the rare live show. We had mostly exhausted our friends’ support by then. What were we to do with boxes of t-shirts, stickers, and demo CDs? So, when Type O Negative’s Peter Steele approached us with the idea of being the opening act for a brief east coast leg of his Carnivore[6] Reunion Tour we were eager to join it. We had been on the road twice as a band to California, but we did not perform in either instance, so for all of us this would be our first experience as a touring band. We got busy with arrangements.

On Thursday September 7^th, we embarked from our studio in Rockaway towards the first of three performances with Carnivore. First stop was the club Northern Lights in Clifton Park, NY. That first day and night was exciting and stressful. After the show we had a very long drive through the night down to Springfield, VA. The second night we performed at Jaxx Nightclub, to a decent reception, then packed up and hopped in our van for another long night of driving up to Allentown, PA for a performance at Crocodile Rock Café. This final show was attended by what seemed to be many local skinheads who seemed just one misplaced remark away from becoming volatile. While we were not booed or attacked onstage, our reception was cold. Some even heckled Pete Steele from the crowd! Why did these guys even come to the show? Pete managed to assuage their animosity by performing the Carnivore classic “Race War”. A bizarre night to say the least. 

By the end, I regarded that entire adventure as a trial. I was uneasy about various things: unclear money concerns and practical details which nobody else seemed to care about. One such detail that concerned me was I wished to leave good vibes wherever we went rather than a careless rock n’ roll wreck behind us. Drinking and driving was also something that no one seemed to have major qualms about even if the driver was several drinks in, very tired and driving through dense fog at high speeds! At moments I was thoroughly exhausted yet afraid if I closed my eyes, I would never open them again. I tuned in to my higher power on those long rides. My prayer went something like this: “Dear God, please get us through this absurd tour in one piece. If I make it through, I promise to lead a healthier and more contributive lifestyle somehow!” And I meant it. 

I sensed that this whole experience of really trying to make it in a rock band was necessary for my growth and awakening. However, it had become obvious to me that I did not want to continuously put myself in harm’s way for the remainder of my professional musical life just for the hell of it. I could deeply understand how and why so many artists have lost themselves on the fantasy road to “success”. My favorite moments on that mini tour were when I went off by myself for a walk in the daylight to get some fresh air, see new neighborhoods and clear my mind. On one of these daytime walks I called Felicia back home to let her know how things were going and that I was ok. I felt lousy about risking my precious life casting my lot with this lifestyle that truly did not seem to be creating value for anybody anywhere. Yet I felt kind of stuck in that I had committed myself to this band. For what reason however, I no longer recalled.

After the three-date traipse around the Northeast coast with Carnivore there was a sense of feeling lost. What next? Our whirlwind mini tour was cool for bragging rights for a few moments. But what were we supposed to do with that experience? There was no evidence that we created any more than a few new fans and merch sales. We had no clearer direction as to how to focus our energies. Our music was still as negative as ever. The communication between band members was at an all-time low. In the typical fashion of the band at that time, conversation was focused on how we could get signed to a record deal or a management deal. The fun of playing music and working hard together for the joy of the experience was nowhere to be found. There was this sense of trying to “get in the door” by affiliating with “powerful people” or connections. I did not like this approach, but I was outnumbered and had to admit that I knew no better way to reach the next level in making this band a career. I was reluctantly on board with this route of exploring labels and management possibilities. There were a few music industry people whose interest in us went beyond the first meeting and even one who offered us a management contract which, thankfully we did not sign on to.

There had been a growing sense of mistrust in the band. We met at a local Dunkin Donuts for one particularly toxic meeting. Two of the members were arguing over ownership rights and projections far into the future that had no present reality to them. The overall tone of our relationship as a band was like a hungover group of partygoers at odds with themselves and each other. No one was happy with the situation yet not all members were ready to let go of this no-longer-fun music group we had co-created together.

In October I drove my elderly neighbor-friend Rosemarie to St. Raymond’s Cemetery in Pelham Bay, Bronx. As her birthday was in October and so was Halloween, I used this visit to begin working on a classical guitar piece which I would complete and dedicate to her entitled “Cemetery Waltz: An Impromptu in B Locrian”. I was also working on a classical piano piece which I put into score form around this time called, “Flights of Fancy: A Fantasy in G Minor”. This piece was dedicated to one of my star pupils at BMH who had a habit of forgetting to show up to lessons, so I used the downtime to compose the piece.

Levelsix performed at Five Towns College (Dix Hills, Long Island) for a John Lennon themed evening. We played a brief set including a hard rock cover of John Lennon’s “Instant Karma”. I wanted to go in the direction of the song’s lyrics “Well we all shine on, like the moon and the stars and the sun. Yes, we all shine on, everyone!” There was something exuberant and egalitarian in those words which was all I really wanted out of life – joy and fairness.  

Around October had a rehearsal at our old stomping grounds Electric Plant Studios. We had been renting our own studio space in Rockaway since 2004. So, it had been some time since we practiced at Electric Plant and studio owner Vee came in to listen to us play a bit. It was cool to hang out with him as we all regarded him almost like an uncle figure. 

Around Halloween I went to hang out with Uncle Vee at Electric Plant. Afterwards, him and I went to the Floridian diner for a late-night meal. He told me frankly, “John, Levelsix is a sick animal. It’s on its last legs. I haven’t heard you guys in a couple of years, so I was excited to hear what you sounded like after so much time and you guys kinda sucked. There was no progress man! And you guys are barely even playing shows! What the f*ck’s up with that??”

While I didn’t exactly think we sucked, I had to admit he was right. Uncle Vee was not one to trash his friends, but he was a straight shooter. We weren’t tight, and a band that was not improving, not performing, and not even having fun seemed to be going nowhere at best. I was struggling with family discord at home as well as with some physical struggles of my own such as hemorrhoids and headaches. Financially I couldn’t move out on my own and was generally a bit stuck. I had a car to pay for, rehearsals and other band expenses, et cetera. Uncle Vee patiently listened to all of this and helped me to envision how different my options would be if I had no band or car draining my money. I was worried about being able to afford living on my own.

He said, “You’ll figure it out man! If you’ve got a few weeks before rent’s due and no money, you’ll go out and hustle because you don’t want to have to move back home. It’s not that complicated. You’re a smart guy. You’re willing to work right?”

I nodded. As I mulled all this over, we also went into further detail about the situation as I explained how some of the band members could no longer stand each other and that we were discussing a management contract that was scaring the hell out of me, because I did not want to lock myself deeper into a miserable situation. The more we talked, the later it became and as the skies brightened up with the sunrise so did my spirits once again rise to meet the new season that lie before me.

Front man Lou and I had tickets to an Elton John concert at Nassau Coliseum on Long Island in early November. We discussed our feelings about the band and life in the car. We agreed the band was no longer a priority for either of us. And we were both ready to let the guys know. It wouldn’t be easy, but this is the way things were headed. Neither of us intended to “break up the band”. Lou no longer wanted to be a front man and I no longer wanted to be in the band for a variety of reasons. We basically both decided to “leave” at the same time. We knew that this would effectively end the band. To lose one of us, carrying on might have been possible, but to lose both of us at the same time would take all the wind right out of the sails of the Levelsix ship quickly. 

A few days later after enjoying an authentic Italian lunch at the family home of a private student, I headed for the dreaded band meeting. We met on the corner of East 36^th Street and Avenue U. There were six of us at this showdown: Jack, Timmy, Beef, me, Lou, and his father. Lou felt the other guys would be mad at him and brought his father along as an extra layer of protection in case it got ugly. The meeting was not pleasant, no sense of genuine comradery. We were fractured and it showed in the nasty verbal language being used. It was an abrasive encounter, but it did not become violent. On a deep level I believe everyone remembered our common friendship and brotherhood, but egos were involved, and feelings were hurt. It was basically like a bad romantic breakup.

Afterwards, interpersonal relationships between all members became strained to say the least. Jack and Timmy were particularly annoyed. As a fallout of the band breakup, Jack and I ended up cutting off communication which was bizarre considering that we still lived directly across the street from one another. There was too much unfinished business that it was better not to hang out. Things soon came to a boil at home for me and I felt pushed to clear out of there. 

I began taking steps to move out. I checked out a few apartments to rent in the neighborhood. After responding to a handwritten note posted on the St. Columba Church bulletin board, I felt I had found my new place. Florence Williams was a kind older woman from the Caribbean who lived with her grandson Mark (age 9) whom she was raising like her son. I got a good feeling with them as I checked out the basement apartment for rent on East 53^rd Street near Avenue S. 

On one of the last nights of December I treated my good pal Sam Ackerman to dinner at a nice Italian restaurant in appreciation for helping me move into my new apartment which I would officially start living in from January 1^st, 2007. During dinner we split a bottle of wine and then each walked home in separate directions. Once back alone in The BASEment apartment at Mom’s, I could not relax and began to feel very nervous and shaky. Usually, wine makes me feel more relaxed. What the hell is going on? This is weird, did I have too much coffee today? It was around midnight, and I didn’t know what to do or who to turn to. I chose to knock on Rosemarie’s door a few houses down as I knew she would generally be up late. She let me in and allowed me to lay on her couch as we watched black and white movies on TV together into the wee hours. We didn’t talk much, no need. But having her there for me at that difficult moment was a clear measure of our true friendship. Thank you, Rosemarie!

In December, NASA photos suggested the presence of liquid water on Mars, an indication of greater possibilities than previously known. And Iraqi politician Saddam Hussein was executed by hanging just before New Year’s, a reminder that sometimes endings can be harsh and quick.