Happiness in a key of D or My life as a teenage voyeur
March 12, 2004
By the time we started recording our second album as the Jets, �Jet Fighters� in 1986, we had been playing our respective instruments for a good while. This simply meant that we were just dangerous enough to sound alright. At the time, we were very proud of it and were quite comfortable with our sound. Unlike our first album, the sophomore recording was polished enough to actually have chords progressions and melodies and sounded like music, but at the same time, it had the edge of many of our puck/hard rock contemporaries. It was like the Descendants meet Journey. Most of the songs we wrote at the time, had 2 or 3 power chords and that was it�simple, but to the point. Rich�s vocals added such a bright sound to the dark sounds that Shawn and I created. The first four songs on the album, which were �Little Guitar�, �Jet Lag�, �Janis�, and �Snake Pit�, Rich sang the hand-written lyrics while Shawn and I shouted out impromptu filler in the back ground. It sounded just like a college band at a toga party, until one night.
It was a cool, late afternoon and the sun broke through the attic window at the �On Top of the World� recording studio. It was still winter-time, but we were getting teased by a few spring days here and there. This brought on the excitement of the upcoming fun of life sans school and later inspired the song �When will the summer come?!?!�. We decided to see if we could ride the exhilaration of the nice weather and compose a song before we were going to head out for the night on the town. As usual, I played a few chords to see what fit melodically with the lyrics that Rich shuffled through. As I strummed a straightforward �D to G� riff, Shawn put an enchanting beat down on top of the jagged guitar sound. All of a sudden, Rich belted out a familiar rhyme about an old girlfriend.
The summer before, I wrote down my brokenhearted thoughts of catching a girl I had been dating on and off for about 4-months with one of my best friends. Like I said, we weren�t exactly exclusive, so I wasn�t exactly crushed by the affair. I was hurt just enough that I wrote lyrics about what I witnessed. Since this incident, I got the change to correct things with my friend and we both got the opportunity to avenge the actions of the girl that came between us. So that chapter of my life was closed. At least I thought it was until Rich resurrected this sheet of discouraging words.
Once Rich started singing the lyrics with the music, it became more than just a teenage melodrama. It was now carved into our souls. I remember that I looked at the two of them after I hit the �stop� button on our technologically advanced recording device (tape player with the record key pressed) and thought, �That was cool!� Their faces told the same story of wonderment. Maybe this was why when I first wrote down the name of the song, I misspelled it �Hands Wondering� in a foreshadowing way (although, it was probably because I am the worst speller ever). We were shocked that we made this magnum opus ourselves. It was too simple to be that good. There were only 3 different chords in the entire song. I guess Bob Dillon was right; all it takes is �3 chords and the truth�. In fact, throughout the years, we struggled to improve upon the song by adding more to the chorus and the bridge, but nothing ever worked. It was perfect in its simplicity.
Later that night, the three of us went all-night bowling with Rich�s first girlfriend, Michele, and her friend, Michelle, but we only concentrated on the song. We took the master tape of the incomplete album and a walkman. We alternated ignoring the game and the team of bowlers and listened to the songs. Each time one of us got to �Hands Wandering� we called the other two over to listen in on the work of genius. Because there was only enough room for two other sets of ears in the headphones, the girls were left out in the cold. I don�t think they got a turn to listen to it at all that night and probably became very annoyed with us, but we never noticed in our self-righteous moment.
The threesome, and later, Rich and I wrote many good songs together, but this one song was our crowning achievement. We played it just about every time we jammed, with or without others. It made it through years of performances with virtually no changes. It did get a saxophone part added for extra zest as part of the Kashmir rendition, but the rest remained unaffected. The original recording that I own of the song is damaged from wear. It has been played over and over again in disbelief that we created it. Yes, I may have built this song up to epic proportions, but before you think that I am biased and the song may not be that good, listen to this. When we played it at the battle of the bands show at Penn State, Rich introduced �Hands Wandering� and announced that we wrote the song that was surrounded by cover tunes. After the show, which we were awarded 2nd place out of 8 bands for, more than a hand-full of people commented to me how much they enjoyed �Hands Wandering�. They were amazed that we wrote such a cool tune with a terrific hook. This was proof to me that the song was catchy. On the other hand, it never made us rich and famous.
The song will be taken back to its roots for the Rich Rust Tribute Show on April 24, 2004 at Nick�s Fat City where the reunited Jet Fighters (me, Shawn, and the other Rust, Matt) will play it again as a three-piece just like the day it was born. It will be gratifying to see the reaction of a new audience at Rich�s Show and to hear what they think of the song after we play it at a gig for the first time in 15-years. Over the years, I have become callous to the song from hearing it played so many times and I miss the novelty of it, but it is still a memorable song. For me, it is now satisfying to hear it because it will always remind me of Rich and all the meaningful times we had playing music together. |
