This is a post I did back in August when I learned that one of my favorite drummers, Richie Hayward, had passed away losing his battle with cancer. I'm not sure why I let it sit so long - I suppose I wanted to let my thoughts simmer a bit to see if I had anything else to say. I think this about covers it for me:
It's been a bit of a bummer of a summer for me, at least in terms of some people passing away much sooner than I, and many others would like. On Thursday night of this week, I got a text from a friend saying that Richie Hayward, one of my favorite drummers had passed away. Not the news I was hoping for and completely contrary to the vision I held in my mind of seeing Richie play a blistering show with Little Feat, the cancer whose ass he seriously kicked was just a tiny spot in the rear view mirror. There was so much love, prayers & well wishes for Richie once he left the band to undergo his treatment for liver cancer, that I really believed it would bring him back in good health, back behind the kit where he belonged.
I've been a big fan of Richie's playing since I was a kid in high school. None of my friends understood what I liked about Little Feat, or Richie's playing when I first started getting into Little Feat - I couldn't have cared less what they thought. The album that hooked me - and they were called albums then, was the live LP, Waiting For Columbus. It was 1978 and I had a hard time grasping the concept that none of my friends that I could talk music with liked this album! What's not to like? I have to admit that I was a mere kid of 18 then, and I had favorites that caused me to almost ignore (I said 'almost') some great stuff on this album - but now I couldn't live without every tune.
It would be a year or so before I could mention Little Feat to another person and actually have them say something good to go with how much I liked them - and as a very young man, I lacked the words to say why I liked them so much - I liked them so much because it was great music, and it still is.
When Lowell George passed away in 1979, it seemed that I wouldn't get to see Little Feat live. Fast forward to 1988 and my first Little Feat show at the Newport in Columbus, Ohio. Amazing - everything I hoped it would be and more. I didn't have great seats, but the music more than made up for that. Even from way too far away, Richie floored me.
A few years later I would take a job running a drum shop for a local music chain and a phone call to Scott Miller at Pearl drums would land me backstage passes to a Little Feat show in Cleveland. I was incredibly excited at the chance to finally meet Richie Hayward. From right at the foot of the stage, Richie was barely visible behind his kit, which trembled on its riser under the powerful grooves that Richie laid down.
Backstage after the show, Richie could not have been any nicer. We talked about tours he did with Joan Armatrading and Warren Zevon. I was amazed that Richie seemed to be enjoying the conversation because so many times when you meet famous musicians, they may speak to you, but there's usually the vibe that conversation will be brief and they've got someone more important to talk to than you. Not so with Richie Hayward. He asked me when I last saw the band and when I told him it had been 1988, he looked at me and said, "oh you can't stay away that long...come and see us again soon, don't wait that long, you're missing out!"
Indeed I was. Like anyone who has ever picked up a pair of drumsticks, Richie's playing was very inspirational to me and it left a mark. Never really thought about it until just now, but when I say his playing was inspirational, I don't mean to say that I wanted to play like he did - what I'd want would be to give myself to the song the way Richie did. I've always thought that the best drummers want to make the song, the band sound good - they like playing songs more than drums. I don't know of any better example of that philosophy than Richie Hayward.
When you get into the upper echelon of musicians, to me at least, one drummer isn't better than another, you start to realize how different they are as artists and you celebrate those differences. Like any great artist, Richie never stopped evolving - I've always loved listening to his playing and I always will. I had the pleasure of talking to Richie a couple more times since meeting him in Cleveland. I'll always remember him coming offstage having just burned through Little Feat sets, that had his fan blowing towards him on the left of his kit - it's hot up there in Richie's seat, oh man is it ever hot up there! - his hair blown all over the place and soaked with sweat, a big smile on his face and looking like he'd just gotten off the ride of his life. Perhaps he had at that, and how incredible that after 40 years in one incredible band, he could still come offstage smiling that way.
So it's with a very heavy heart that I come to terms with one of the most incredible grooves that music has ever known has been silenced. My own sadness here is quickly put into perspective when I think of those who knew Richie and loved him - his wife Shauna, his children, the rest of the band, how much heavier their hearts are right now, and how much of them is now missing with Richie gone. We'll all survive, but Richie took some of all he touched with him, just as he put in various influences into his playing. My heart aches for Richie's friends and family - people who are missing Richie the husband, the father, the band mate - and I hope that they are comforted during this difficult time when time itself is the miracle that heals, but at times like these it sure feels like time can't move fast enough.
I'm more than a little sad that I won't get the chance to talk with Richie again, that the dream I've been holding onto of seeing Richie healthy again and up on that bandstand where he belonged won't happen in this life. I still can't believe he's actually gone, and I pray he's at peace now and that he knows how much he's loved and missed. I realize that I'm lucky I had the chance to meet him a few times, how thrilled I am that the last time I talked to him was in my home town and when he saw me coming he smiled, pointed at me and said, "hey man! - I remember you!" - uhm, yeah...Richie remembered me.
So the groove may be silenced, my heart heavy because of that...but the thing I need to remember is that Richie's grooves will never stay silent for me - I'll always enjoy listening to that man play and I'll always hope that I can cop a fraction of the feel that Richie had into any music I may play, and I'll cherish the memories of the times I had the pleasure of talking to Richie in person - now that I think of it, I was always the one who ended those conversations - Richie always seemed like he'd talk to me indefinitely. Rest in peace Richie, and to Bill, Fred, Kenny, Paul and Sam - and Richie's family and friends, I wish you all comfort - my heart is sad for the loss all of you are feeling.
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