My Effin' Life Tour Book
THREE MOMENTS
HINGS WERE COMING AT US FASTER NOW than Steve McQueen in Bullitt, as we zig-zagged across America, anywhere our agent could snag us an opening spot-usually as a last-minute add-on to some other band's tour already in progress. We arrived in Washington D.C. to do a daytime pop show on WDCA-TV called Barry Richards Rock and Soul, a corny traditional variety program for teens-the kind on which acts mimed their hits. Lip-syncing was never a big deal for me; pretending to play live was a fine tradition in rock and roll television, but Neil hated it and considered not even setting up his kit. (Some drummers like Keith Moon, meanwhile, made a mockery of it, while Charlie Watts, say, would sit on his throne looking taciturn and toler- ating the charade.) Yet in the end he relented, playing at full-bore as if it were live. (Later, in the Eighties, with the explosion of music clips on the all-mighty MTV, it became more and more necessary for us to lip- sync, and even he agreed that videos were an opportunity for a grand visual expression of our songs, but he'd always insist on playing live on the set. If in our videos it looks like he's hitting the hell out of his drums, it's because he is. As such, making videos was more exhausting for him than it was for Alex and me, but in the end he felt he had noth- ing to be ashamed of.) In 1974 on Barry Richards, he was still figuring out his position on the matter, and partly because we barely knew him, even if his stance jeopardized our appearing on a show, we were not going to fight him. We respected his opinion and let it slide.
[Opposite photo: Michael Capotosto]
RIVA