Page 22 - the NOISE February 2013

tHE FAMiLY tHAt PLAYS tOGEtHER
Ed Cassidy was born in 1923 on Chicago’s south side. His family headed west when the Depression hit, settling in Bakers- field, California. For as long as he could remember, Ed would grab any musical instrument in sight and try to play it. He even- tually chose the drums.
After serving in World War II, Cassidy returned to the States and played in any band that needed a drummer. Country & western, polka, Latin, Broadway, Dixieland ... anything. He re- corded film soundtracks and had a brief stint with the San Fran- cisco Opera. As his chops improved, Cassidy gravitated to the world of jazz. He backed up some of the best: Art Pepper, The- lonius Monk, Cannonball Adderly, Roland Kirk, Gerry Mulligan. He later claimed to have gigged 282 nights in a row in 17 states.
Cassidy was a strange one, a real character. When he began prematurely losing his hair, he shaved his head completely bald on a lark. People would stare at him on the street, but Cassidy liked his new look and decided to keep it. Shortly thereafter, his entire wardrobe became black.
In 1964, Cassidy founded The Rising Sons in Los Angeles with singer Taj Mahal and guitarist Ry Cooder. They lasted less than a year and broke up after only one single, but The Ris- ing Sons were a life-changing experience for the few who saw them perform.
Around this time, Cassidy married a young lady named Ber- nice Pearl. Bernice’s brother was Ed Pearl, founder of The Ash Grove, a legendary L.A. venue specializing in folk and blues. Hundreds of famous and soon-to-be-famous musicians per- formed on their stage. Many ended up crashing on couches and floors at the Pearl household.
Bernice had a son by a previous marriage: Randy Craig Wolfe, born in 1951. Growing up estranged from his father, Randy obsessed over music. Thanks to his mother’s side of the fam- ily, there was plenty around. With Benice’s support, he started playing the guitar.
Randy Wolfe was barely into his teens and in need of a father figure when Ed Cassidy entered his life. When they were first introduced, the two clasped hands and locked eyes and the teenager felt a jolt. Cassidy gave off a strong vibe of trust and friendship, but there was something more that Randy couldn’t put a name to, like déjà vu, multiplied. Randy Wolfe stared into the face of Ed Cassidy and it seemed like he had known this man forever.
Randy secretly envied his schoolmates who had cool dads. Now he went from having no dad to having the coolest one possible: a bald guy in sunglasses who only dressed in black and pounded the drums. It was Randy’s turn to be envied. None of his friends had a dad who played with Cannonball Ad- derley.
A bond was formed. Cassidy always treated his stepson like an adult, a peer. He encouraged Randy’s buddies to hang out and told them great stories from his time on the road. He was nearly 30 years their senior, the same age as their parents, but
Spirit: The Family That Plays Togethe
he talked like one of them. He was unlike anybody they had ever met.
Ed and Randy jammed every chance they got. Ed imparted what musical wisdom he could, but Randy seemed to instinc- tively know it already. The two had found another level to com- municate on, and it further strengthened the bond between them.
In his freshman year of high school, Randy and some class- mates assembled a band called the Red Roosters for a talent show. When their drummer quit, Randy asked his stepfather to fill in. With Cassidy on drums, the Red Roosters won first place.
As 1966 dawned, Ed Cassidy had a series of lucrative gigs lined up in New York City. The family relocated to the East Coast and got a place in the Forest Hills section of Queens. Every day after school, Randy would take the subway into Greenwich Vil- lage to watch Cassidy play. Already sprouting a scruffy beard, Randy easily passed for 18 and was able to hang out in night- clubs without arousing suspicion. He begged his stepfather not to tell anyone his age so he could sit in on jam sessions with the older cats. Cassidy, who was a professional drummer at 14, complied.
It was quite an education for a young man: pimps, dope fiends, hookers, boozers, wiseguys, Negroes, pushers, musi- cians, hustlers and weirdos of all stripes. Randy Wolfe, now call- ing himself Randy Cassidy, absorbed it all. Bernice worried, but not too much. Her son wasn’t a troublemaker, he only wanted to be near the music. If a bad situation arose, Cassidy was never far away.
One day, Randy was at Manny’s Guitars in the Village when he heard some wild licks coming from the back of the store. He peeked around a corner and saw a young black man playing a Stratocaster upside down and left handed. The man noticed Randy’s presence and glanced up. The two locked eyes and Randy felt a jolt, similar to his first meeting with Cassidy. The young black man broke into a goofy smile and softly said hey. Randy couldn’t help but grin back.
The man introduced himself as Jimmy James. He looked and acted younger than his 23 years, while Randy looked and acted older than his 15. Randy asked to see the guitar he was playing, pulled a slide from his pocket, and busted out some blues riffs. Jimmy was impressed. They began talking easily, like they were old friends.
Jimmy was from Seattle but had traveled all over, backing up the Isley Brothers, King Curtis, Little Richard, and others on the “chitlin circuit”. He had scored a regular gig at the seedy Cafe Wha? with his band, the Blue Flame. Jimmy was playing later
that evening and invited Randy to stop by and jam. Afterwards, Jimmy asked Randy point blank to join his group. Randy’s mother grudgingly approved. Her son could use a job while school was out and she figured Randy was safer onstage than in the audience. At least now he had a good reason for being in the Village all the time.
That summer, the Blue Flame played five shows a night, six nights a week. The musicians only took home $7 or $8 apiece
22 • FEBRUARY 2013 • the NOISE arts & news • thenoise.us