I started playing music at the age of 10. Christmas, 1970, I found a tiny, 25-key organ, along with a copy of Alfred's beginning piano, sitting under the tree. This little toy, the genesis of my musical aspirations, set the course of my life; a journey that continues to this day.
Soon after mastering this complex instrument, I moved onto the electric bass; mostly because Paul McCartney played one. Plus, it didn't have as many strings as the guitar, and in the hierarchy of "rock band" instruments, it was cooler then the piano and that meant, I figured, more girls for Carl--I was right!. Besides, it was clear that my brother Victor was going to be the guitar hero.
My first "official" band was me on bass, Vic on guitar, Frank Gallary on Drums and a big heavy kid named Mike Rubino on accordian. The only image I have of Mike, that has stuck with me all these years, is him sitting on a tiny foot stool sweating away on that goofy instrument. He was a real champ.
We called the band "Freedom" (that was cool back then) and we placed a big sticker of an American flag on Frank's bass drum (even cooler). We played all the hits of the day: Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head, Sonny, The Candy Man, Do you know The Way To San Jose, Proud Mary, Sitting On The Dock of the Bay, etc. We did two gigs--a wedding and a birthday party--and then disbanded because, I think, the other parents were worried that my bro and me would be a bad influence on their kids. They were probably right.
More bands and musicians followed. In 1978, Vic, myself and a drummer set sale for Hollywood, Ca. We arrived in town, with no place to stay, no plan and not much money. Luckily my drummer Lonnie befriended a girl who picked the three of us up while we were hitchiking. She was kind enough to let us sleep in her car for a few weeks.
Yep, this was great, welcome to Hollywood I thought. The situation quickly deteriorated. I ended up practicing the fine art of shoplifting and panhandling (prostitutes are some of the most generous people).
When things got really bad, I would apply for a job at a restuarant, and on the way out, make a grab for unfinished left-overs. Hey, I know that's gross, but you try not eating for 2 or 3 days. Worse yet, while I was out disgracing myself, my brother and drummer pawned off my record collection for hamburgers and pot. Nice!
I eventually found an upwardly mobile position as a fry cook and cleaner, working the 11pm to 7am shift at Jack in The Box in Burbank. Finally, I was on my way....to hell. The next thing I know, I'm running around Ft. Knox KY, in full combat gear, with an M-16 in my hands and some guy in a Smokey the Bear hat is kicking me in the ass and calling me names. Yikes, this was a far cry from Hollywood!
I still don't know what happened; maybe it was the uniform, or John Wayne, or making dad proud or just wanting to get the hell away from the two jerks who sold my albums for weed and hamburgers. Whatever it was, it wasn't civilian life anymore
After my discharge from active duty in '82, I spent some time back home playing in cover bands in upstate New York. I returned to Los Angeles in Dec '85 where I've remained since. I've had some great times here in Los Angeles and have played and performed with some great musicians and friends.
Email me at:cfdemarco2@yahoo.com