The Wrecking Crew

New Documentary Spotlights the Session Players
By Daniel Siwek
F
ilmmaker Denny Tedesco didn’t have your average dad. His old man Tommy didn’t go to an office, but rather a
recording studio or a sound stage. But to hear his dad at work, young Denny only had to put the needle on his
favorite records, turn on the family TV or go to the movies. The most recorded guitarist in history, Tommy Tedesco
worked night and day with an outfit now known as the Wrecking Crew. These musicians played with every heavyweight
in every medium of recorded music; and while it’s impossible to list every member of this mercurial unit, it’s even harder
to describe just how ubiquitous these players once were. From Elvis Presley to Frank Sinatra, from Bonanza to Jaws, from
the Beach Boys to the Beatles — these cats even formed the very bricks of Phil Spector’s renowned Wall of Sound. Years
in the making, Denny Tedesco’s documentary The Wrecking Crew has been the talk of many a film festival lately, and he’s
looking to get it in the hands of even more people. While the film does a great job of allowing these legendary musicians
to discuss their accomplishments, Music Connection was inspired to put a few questions of its own to these individuals,
including horn player Plas Johnson, guitar and bass players Bill Pitman and Carol Kaye, drummer Hal Blaine, pianist
Don Randi (also the longtime owner of the Los Angeles jazz club Baked Potato), and the Rhinestone Cowboy himself,
Glen Campbell (who’s got a new CD out now, Meet Glen Campbell).
Music Connection: Denny Tedesco’s documentary offers a fascinating look into the
Wrecking Crew, but it also is a touching
tribute to his father Tommy Tedesco, who
passed away before the film was completed.
Did you guys share a certain emotional
connection with Denny on this project?
Don Randi: I loved the idea because it
started out to be about his father, Tommy,
who I dearly loved, and then it got into Tommy
and the Wrecking Crew, and the scope of the
documentary started getting bigger and bigger.
I think it’s a great idea because we’re talking
about a person, a group of people and a time
period that needs to be remembered.
Hal Blaine: I call it a movie not a documentary,
because it’s the story of our lives; we started
with nothing and ended up at the top of the
heap of music. Who knew we would be working
for Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin and all these
guys? We had no idea all these records would
go down as classics. I love the Tedescos,
I know Denny since he was a baby, and you
can’t find nicer woman than Tommy’s widow,
Carmie. I knew that Denny was looking for
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certain answers about his family, but it’s really
about all our families.
Bill Pitman: The film made me happy,
nostalgic and sad at the same time. Denny was
a super guy and I like him a lot, and I’ll always be
friends with him and his mother Carmie. It was
very sad that Tommy had to go; we were good
friends that worked together a lot, but more
importantly had a lot of affection for each other.
But life goes on. I think Denny did a great job
on the documentary, but as far as my personal
part of [making music], I really don’t give a rat’s
ass; it was all done so many years ago that it’s
old hat, and I don’t think what I did deserves all
the attention I’m getting for it. I don’t get it, I just
went in every day and did my job.
MC: Who exactly are the “Wrecking Crew”
and how’d they get the name?
Don Randi: If I were to make that list
there would be about 40 more cats in this
documentary. I know it’s too hard to get them
all, but we have to remember there were so
many great players: guys like Russ Titelman,
who was one of the rhythm guitarists for Phil
Spector as well as for [the TV show] Shindig!
By the age of 15 he was accompanying Buddy
Hackett on the Catskills circuit. I think that the
Wrecking Crew applies to those musicians who
did dates for Phil Spector, Brian Wilson, Jimmy
Bowen, Lee Hazlewood, sometimes for David
Axelrod, and sometimes, even though hardly
anyone knew about it, for Motown.
Hal Blaine: I’d say it started around 1962 or
1963, a time when all the established musicians
all dressed the same — I’d call them the “Blue
Blazers” — and we were in Levi’s and smoking.
They were older gentlemen, and they would say,
“These guys are going to wreck the business.”
I automatically started using the name, the
wrecking crew, to refer to us. Producers started
calling us up and word got out about Hal Blaine
and his wrecking crew. “We want your Wrecking
Crew!” they’d say. I’m telling you we would
start getting booked for three or four months in
advance. Then all the kids we worked for started
getting big; Phil Spector, the Beach Boys, the
Byrds, and even, what’s his face, Kenny Rodgers
and the First Edition.
Plas Johnson : The first time I heard the
term was when I got Denny’s first edit of the
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“King Salt.” The producers would sit behind
the glass panel, there, and after the date would
be up they’d say give us 10, 15 more minutes!
“Tommy would get up and say, “The date’s over,
we’d be happy to stay but you have to pay us
overtime, and that’s the union rule” He’d stand
right up for all of us, and would let them make
the choice. Sometimes they’d go, “Ah just one
take!” And he’d go, “No takes!” I even stood
up when I thought we were being taken by
schlockers, so I got the name “Jr. Salt.”
Plas Johnson: I played a major role in that
too, because it was up to us, the guys who were
more established, to stand up and yell when the
band was being used and abused. I didn’t care
if I got called back the next day; I had plenty of
work lined up, and so did Tommy. I remember
when Mike Melvin (keys) and I walked out on
Phil Spector. And I remember another time
when we were working and it was the end of the
day/date, and I said, that’s it, the date is over,
and if you want to continue, you’ll have to call
a double-date; and then, unless everyone in
the session agrees to go on, we get a half-hour
break for some food. The union had its rules,
you know. Some of the guys would have plowed
right through without even discussing it, but the
more experienced guys had to let them know.
Carol Kaye
documentary. I don’t even remember talking
about the Wrecking Crew when we taped the
first roundtable with Tommy about 15 years
ago. I don’t recall us ever being referred to as
the Wrecking Crew; in fact, I think it’s something
that existed in Hal Blaine’s imagination. I
don’t think that Tommy ever played under the
impression that he was in the Wrecking Crew.
What happened is that Hal wrote a book called
Hal Blaine and the Wrecking Crew, and that’s
how he started to describe the studio people
who were working on all these records. But
some of us older musicians — like Earl Palmer,
Carol Kaye and myself — resent it. We all
had established careers already, and Hal
established his career after Earl Palmer and not
as the Wrecking Crew.
Carol Kaye: People may walk away from
the film thinking that Hal Blaine was the
captain of the whole crew. But first of all, we
weren’t an organized band at all; we were all
very independent; and second, Hal wasn’t the
captain of anything. If Jack Nitzsche were alive
he would say the same thing, everybody says
the same thing — we never heard of [the term
Wrecking Crew]. Hal Blaine got that name from
a rock group that backed up Darlene Love on
the East Coast in the ‘80s. It hurt to see that he
was hurting financially, so I called him and said,
do you have a book? You should have a book
out. I was the one that hooked up Hal Blaine
with the publisher of his book, but he never said
he was going to name us the Wrecking Crew.
That’s bullshit, about it happening around 1962
or 1963, because if anything, the 50 or 60 of
us (not the strings, but the rhythm section and
horn men) were sometimes called “the Clique.”
MC: Is it true that Tommy would stand up for
you guys versus the producers?
Carol Kaye: Tommy was a big advocate for
us. Hal did a lot of the contracting, but it was
Tommy that set the cash scale for Motown,
even. He liked to take good care of business,
and if people were acting up on the date or
something he’d try to straighten it out. He had
a knack for it.
Bill Pitman: Tommy was hell on wheels
when it came to getting paid; we called him
MC: What generally occurred on those Phil
Spector dates?
Plas Johnson: He wasted a lot of time on
two tunes and it would be three in the morning
going on four, and he wanted to call another
date for scale. Actually, it was a date for one
of the Beatles, that guy with the glasses who
got killed. Mike Melvoin barked about it and
started walking out when Phil asked if anyone
else was going to leave with him. Then I got up
and left too. I don’t know if they went on or not,
but I wasn’t going to play until five or six in the
morning for scale. There were younger guys
who couldn’t stand up, because they were still
making a name for themselves, but I didn’t give
a fuck about offending Phil Spector.
Bill Pitman: I remember being at Gold Star
Studios when we recorded “To Know Him is to
Love Him,” which I think Phil wrote for his dad.
It was an instant hit, and I remember going
down to the session with Tommy. To be honest
with you, I hated the damned tune, and I told
Phil that, but it only shows how wrong people
could be. I soon became the barometer if a
tune would make it or not. People would come
over to ask me if I liked a song, and they would
pray that I hated it, because then it would most
likely become a hit; if I liked it, it didn’t stand a
chance!
40 bucks in the afternoon and he would make
40 thousand on stage that night. He was the
ultimate Beach Boy, and of course, the only
surfer of the bunch.
Glen Campbell: I had played bass for the
Beach Boys in the studio before, but it was a
whole new experience going out on the road as
their bass player when Brian stopped touring. Al
Jardine had to help me with the vocals because
you don’t know how hard it is to sing those high
parts while playing the bass. (Sings “Little Old
Lady from Pasadena” in falsetto.)
MC: While you were all successful musicians,
only two of you, Leon Russell and Glen
Campbell, became stars. What was it like
when Glen became one of “them?”
Don Randi: Glen was a musician first and a
star second, and he still preferred to hang out
with us musicians more than anyone else. He
never had anything to prove because he knew
he was terribly talented.
Hal Blaine: It was a victory for all of us, we
couldn’t have been happier for Glen. Glen was
always just Glen; (goes into a high-voiced,
country-boy impersonation) “Hi, this is Glen
Campbell!” And he still calls and says “Hi, this
is Glen Campbell!” And I’m like, yeah, I would
have never guessed.
Glen Campbell: I did get some ribbing when
[I became famous]; boy did they tease me to
the ground. They’d go, “Hey boys, here comes
the big star.” It was a lot of fun, but actually
even when “Turn Around, Look at Me” started
climbing the charts I still couldn’t afford to go
out on the road and I still made more money
doing those sessions. The guys were good
players and I don’t think they were jealous at
all; they were all happy for me because I was in
the trenches with them and they were still in the
trenches with me working on my albums.
MC: What can you tell us about those Brian
Wilson/Beach Boys sessions?
Bill Pitman: I remember doing “Good
Vibrations” with Brian. We spent three months
doing it, and it was all piecemealed together,
so I didn’t have any idea what it really sounded
like. We’d do three or four bars here or there,
and then he’d get tired, and then he’d order out
for food, and then he’d get sleepy and take a
nap, and then we’d go home and do it all again
the next day. Frankly, I never even heard the
finished record until way later. You know, we
used to do a whole album in a day, but these
new producers would get us to do all these
separate parts, and that changed the whole
thing. I guess it evolved.
Hal Blaine: That’s my kick drum on the intro
of “Wouldn’t It Be Nice.” With all respect to
[Beach Boys drummer] Denny Wilson, he was a
good little drummer, but he was really a pianist,
and he was thankful that I did the drumming for
him, not only because I made him look good but
because he got to laugh at how I was making
OCTOBER 2008 • MAGAZINE • DIGITAL EDITION • WEBSITE • WEEKLY BULLETIN • ARTISTS NETWORK
Hal Blaine & Glen Campbell
43
Aaron Walton
WATCH VIDEO
www.musicconnection.com/digital
L-R: Denny Tedesco & Tommy Tedesco
A Few Words
from The Wrecking
Crew Filmmaker
Denny Tedesco
Hal Blaine
MC: Tommy Tedesco would tell his son Denny
that there was a difference between the
musicians and the entertainers, do you agree?
Bill Pitman : When I went to the studio I knew
I was going to play some good music because
these composers were known guys, and they
went through the craft to become fine writers
and musicians and so on, and I loved that. But
it wasn’t the same with Phil Spector and the
new guys. The Beach Boys were okay, Jan &
Dean was fine, but that was all entertainment,
not music. It’s fine, because entertainment
is needed in this world, but you’re talking to
somebody who loves music.
Carol Kaye : It’s true, but I look at it this
way: most of the group got into the rock stuff;
we weren’t as [snobby] about it like Bill. The
challenge became to come up with the simplest
line or hook to make a hit record. Don Randi
and I really got into it, but only for that day,
because we’d forget about it when the session
was over. Bill was really honest about it; he used
to come into the studio and go, “Okay, let’s cut
this shit!” I just did an interview a few weeks
ago with this man who is a huge Monkees fan;
we were talking about how I played on this and
that, and I finally had to tell him, “Listen, I hate
the Monkees!” I really don’t hate them, but the
music started getting to me. We beat ourselves
up, year after year, drinking coffee and smoking
cigarettes, so after a while you got a little tired of
the rock & roll, which is why we did the Motown
stuff for cash dates.
MC: A lot of people don’t know how many
white musicians were on those funky records.
How’d you get involved with Motown?
Plas Johnson: Motown were sending tracks
and contracting bands out here to Los Angeles.
We’d have a substitute singing Diana Ross’
parts. We never knew which artist was gonna
be on the record, we just knew the girl in the
studio wasn’t going to be on the record.
Carol Kaye : They would come and play us
a demo and ask us to re-record another demo.
We’d go, you already have the song recorded,
why don’t you just go with that, but they’d go,
“Oh no, we need you on it.” Then we’d figure
out that they weren’t just recording us for
another demo, but using it for the actual song.
Sometimes they would just lie about it. The
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union didn’t want us recording any music for a
label that wasn’t authorized, but we’d help out
labels with a demo and then if it hit they could
go out and pay for the proper license to have
us play, and that happened several times with
Motown. I’d say in 1962 about 30-40 percent of
Motown’s stuff was recorded here. We liked the
music and it was a relief from surf rock, but I
don’t think the company wanted people to know
how many white people were on their records.
Hal Blaine: We didn’t hook up with Berry
Gordy, but it was his right hand man, a
gentleman named Hal Davis. We’d go over
to this little studio over a garage on Formosa
Avenue, we would make the records and he
would fly first-class back to Detroit to play them
for the various groups. So when you listen to
“Baby Love,” and four or five other hits, you
know that’s us. Now Carol may say that we did
all of them, but that’s not true.
Don Randi : We did a shitload of Motown
stuff. Half the time I was the only white guy
playing on those records.
MC: You were a multiracial outfit as well, at
a time when segregation was still the norm
in many places. What do you recall about
that aspect?
Carol Kaye: You have to remember back in
the ‘60s, when the riots were going on, you didn’t
even walk down the street in Hollywood next to
a black man. But once we were locked in the
studio we had no idea about race or gender. We
totally forgot that Plas was black. But we were an
interracial and intergender band from 1957 on.
Glen Campbell: Everybody was comfortable
in their own skin; black, white, orange, green,
we respected people for their talents.
Plas Johnson: It wasn’t really a problem
in the small studios, but it was still a highly
segregated scene with the contract orchestras.
Places like 20th Century Fox, MGM, Paramount.
These places had been set up long before and
if you didn’t mess up or die, you weren’t going
to lose your job. That meant almost everyone
was white, and you had to really make an effort
to integrate the band. We were all freelance, so
when we showed up on a date, you’d see the
hottest drummer, the hottest keyboard player,
and that had nothing to do with race.
Tedesco’s documentary The
Wrecking Crew is now playing
the festival circuit where it has
has garnered critical acclaim.
A distributor is being sought.
Below, the filmmaker sheds
some light on his project.
“Originally I wasn’t going
to make the story so personal,
but I didn’t want this movie to
be compared to that Motown
documentary. I had started this
documentary years before that
one came out, over 12 years ago.
The problem was getting money
together to shoot on film; but
after my dad was diagnosed
with cancer I realized that if
I don’t get this done the story
would be gone.”
“No company wanted to touch
it because of [what it would
cost to use] all the music; there
are about 120 songs in this
documentary. But the record
company execs really came
through in the end for me.”
“In the beginning of the film
I point out that everybody has
different memories of who the
Wrecking Crew was. Some
remember the name and others
don’t. No one could tell you the
full story, but about 60 names
kept popping up.
“Ultimately, it doesn’t matter
what they called themselves;
what matters is that this group
of musicians played on some of
the most incredible stuff ever
recorded.”
See wreckingcrewfilm.com
continued on p.46
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“Motown were sending
tracks and contracting bands
out here to Los Angeles.
We’d have a substitute
singing Diana Ross’ parts.
We never knew which
artist was gonna be on the
record, we just knew the girl
in the studio wasn’t going to
be on the record.”
—Plas Johnson
MC: What about Carol Kaye fitting into the
boys club?
Bill Pitman: She came along as the first
woman freelance player of the Fender bass. It
was different at the time; sure there had been
women in bands before, but most of them were
in the string section. She earned a full-time
living doing what we did, and she had a lot to
do with the whole rock era.
Don Randi: Carol is amazing, I mean a real
innovative person. She’d be sitting there and
she’d go, “Gee I wonder if this would work,” and
it’s like, gee, you just made the whole record,
Carol! And she opened doors and inspired
a lot of women. My own daughter, Leah,
who is a great bass player and singer, plays
bass because of Carol. Do you want to know
something? I’m not sure if Carol would agree,
but as great a bass player as she is I think she’s
an even better guitar player.
Carol Kaye: I’m the first woman out here to
do all the work I’ve done. Mary Osborne was a
fine jazz guitar player, and she’s about 20 years
older, but it was a different time. I was the first
woman out there playing rock & roll. I don’t feel
like I had to fit into the boys club because I was
already a jazz snob and had my own reputation
in South Los Angeles jazz clubs. Me being a
woman was never a problem for us.
MC: Micky Dolenz said they should have just
given you guys proper credit. Do you agree?
Carol Kaye: Micky Dolenz is a beautiful
person, and he’s a very fair guy. They were a
nice group even if I didn’t like the music much.
But he’s right; they would have avoided a lot of
controversy if the record companies had told
the truth about our contributions. But if you look
Plas Johnson
at it, the record companies didn’t want to be
truthful with their audience because they were
selling to a youthful market, and we were as old
as their parents.
Hal Blaine: There was a famous drummer
who said his greatest disappointment was
finding out that a dozen of his favorite drummers
were Hal Blaine! We were the first Milli Vanilli.
Modern Drummer magazine did some research
and found that I’d play the drum parts for about
50 or 60 groups: the Byrds, the Monkees, the
Partridge Family, the list goes on and on.
Don Randi: Remember we were clones; I
must’ve been Floyd Cramer a hundred times,
and I can’t tell you how many times I heard, “Do
it like Ray Charles.” Duane Eddy told me a great
story and it speaks to Tommy Tedesco’s humor.
They met randomly at a guitar shop and Tommy
jokingly asks, “Hey, are you Duane Eddy?”
They were friends, so Duane just played along.
So Tommy goes, [in a dead-on Niagara accent]
“Does anybody ever ask you to play like me?”
MC: Is it fair to say you guys represent the
end of an era?
Bill Pitman: It becomes a matter of money
all the time. It’s much cheaper to do it the
way it evolved with fewer musicians and more
tracking than the way we usually did it. If you
asked me if it’s for the better or worse, I’d say
worse, but I’m just an old guy talking. Overall I
think music has deteriorated tremendously, and
I don’t think kids have the same opportunity to
show their stuff.
Plas Johnson: I noticed that they started
using artificial strings, and the electronic
saxes sounded just lousy. As the years went
OCTOBER 2008 • MAGAZINE • DIGITAL EDITION • WEBSITE • WEEKLY BULLETIN • ARTISTS NETWORK
on, some people insisted on using the real
sounds, like Frank Sinatra or Linda Ronstadt.
But I do remember getting very bored waiting
in the halls for the strings to finish their parts.
By this time the drum tracks had already been
laid out, you’d never see the drummer anymore.
That’s when I got tired of it and I worked for the
Merv Griffin Show for 15 years. I got to play live
music every night, with guest musicians, and it
was very exciting again.
Carol Kaye: What led to the downfall was the
drug use of the ‘70s, and then the synthesizers
also didn’t help.
Don Randi: I knew things were starting to
change when I saw the Stone Poneys, those
young kids who played guitar for Linda Ronstadt.
All of a sudden the kids could actually play their
instruments, and there was no reason to bring
in any other musicians. I took that as an early
heads-up.
Glen Campbell: With the way the studios are
today, if I want to have any musicians I have
to bring my own guys with me. I look back at
those years as the happiest time in my life. I
don’t think you could ever have that kind of
camaraderie again.
Contact INFO:
www.carolkaye.com
www.halblaine.com
glencampbell: [email protected]
www.plasjohnson.com
www.donrandi.com
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