Hit Hard by Joey Kramer

Author:Joey Kramer
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2009-12-04T16:00:00+00:00

Courtesy of Ron Pownall.

At the Cenacle there was the big open room that had been the chapel; only now it had all the pews taken out. There was still the stained-glass windows and the high ceiling, and because of the natural echo, we set up my drums right on the altar. Steven was on the second floor. Brad was in the living room. Joe was in a huge walk-in fireplace. Jack Douglas, the producer, set up his controls in another room with video monitors so he could see us, only we couldn’t see him. Trouble was, by that time the band was falling apart at the seams. The only thing connecting us was the headphones, and that’s the way everything sounded when we played it back. We had really made it now, but we had no idea how to handle that success. It had been such a long fight, and in our mirror we had won, but now what? We’d rented out this fancy place, but we didn’t have a plan. We also didn’t have enough new material, so we wound up doing covers of “All Your Love” and “Milk Cow Blues.” Basically, we spent six months and half a million dollars to make a record that everybody was going to hate.

We had been on the road for two years, and we had all gone insane. Joe showed up in a Porsche and carrying a Tommy gun. He and Steven had always been into guns and knives in a way that was probably a little too intense. At the Cenacle we even had a firing range in the basement and Steven and Joe would blast shit down there for hours.

Given how out of control everyone was, there was a lot of down time. I would wash all the cars just to keep busy, or we’d have water balloon fights. When we got bored, Tom and Brad and I would race up and down the Merritt Parkway in our Ferraris. Then we would come back and decide that driving 130 in traffic wasn’t enough of a release to deal with our frustrations, so we took my cymbals out and shot at them with shotguns. Meanwhile, Joe was firing pistols in the attic and drinking White Russians for breakfast.

One time Steven and I were up all night on coke and Tuenols. About 10 a.m. he decided he wanted some outdoor target practice. We went down the hill to the other end of the property, and Steven lay down on his chest in a sniper position with the .22. I started setting up beer cans as targets, but I was so wasted I never noticed that I was setting them up so that we were firing toward the house. After I was done, I stood back and said, “Let ’er rip.” Steven was aiming…and aiming, but he was taking so long I began to wonder what was going on. “So shoot already!” I said. Then I walked a little closer. That’s when I heard the snoring.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.