Though Spencer was the oldest member of our band
he was, in some ways, the youngest. He lived in his
imagination. A master of "fills" on the drums, he
could connect disparate phrases & unify a seemingly
impossible leap of time changes. I know because I
was often the main offender with my strangely written
hybrid tempos. From Los Angeles, he was more "San
Francisco" than a lot of people who were born there.
His thought processes were almost always from a gentle
storybook hopefulness rather than the pragmatic truss
that often inhibits creativity. Many of his ideas
could not be realized in the paradigm of the times
but that didn't stop him from enjoying enthusiastic
late night marathons involving lots of paper, pencils
& endless ideas for music, movies, books & television.
We laughed & talked about an impossibly carefree future.
We argued & cried about imposing realities. We loved.
And he is loved.
"Lather was 30 years old today, they took away all
of his toys."
- Grace Slick (Jan 13, 2005)
Paul K 4 Spencer
Ad Astra
I went by 2400 Fulton Street the other morn
And in the early morning swirl of fog and light I
sat there outside and contemplated ‘many a quaint
& forbidden volume of forgotten lore’ as
I watched quietly the ever-changing San Francisco
dawn sunrise skies, reflected off the windows of Spencer
& Sally’s room there
I thought of all we had done and all we still had
to do
I looked upon the reflections of swirling sky in the
second story windows of Spencer’s old room
and I pondered on my own octagonal room directly above
All we had done there, been there, seen there
And I thought of the people who had moved through
these halls
And those who had meant so much in my life
_____ in all our lives
I generally don’t ‘do’ death
Preferring instead to concentrate on the life,
the brain-diamonds there
And I well remember the wit and intellect of Spencer’s
playing, his ‘music’, and The cleverness
of his fills...
His dedication to ‘the path’
and I am grateful for the good times we had walking
that path together
I am particularly fond of Spencer’s final playing
appearance with us at our Galactic Reunion last year
and his magnificent, standing drumming on ”She
Has Funny Cars” then
“Spencer,” I said. “Where are you
now?
We all continue the dance, the thrill of the auld
double helix.”
Not only in his name but for the good of all of us
Forever and ever ... amen
Our drummer has left the building
“Carry the fuck on
as we can,” he might say
“Death is for amateurs!”
And we never did answer the fundamental question
of the universe
did we
But then, none of us ever do
... do they
Now we are five
Carrying on
in our way
Paul
San Francisco
By Jorma Kaukonen
Wednesday, January 12, 2005 Austin, Texas
The times of a man's life. Sometimes the scenes flit
by your eyes like the 3D images in a vimaster. I just
heard that my old band mate and friend, Spencer Dryden,
died last night. I was so fortunate that I was able
to talk to him several times in the past couple of
months. We joked together that some of our contemporaries
considered us in late middle age... late middle age
if you plan on living to be 130 years old. Yes, we
were two older men talking together from the perspective
of our age... and it felt like home. For me, the incarnation
of the Airplane I liked best was the one with Spencer,
Paul, Marty, Jack, Grace and myself. We struggled
together... occasionally lived together... argued
together... loved together... and made some great
music together. A time past... a time of being young
together... a time that only exists today in our mind's
eye. Indeed... What a time! Spencer had been so sick
for such a long time. It is easy of course, to say
that he is in a better place, but I believe it to
be so. When the quality of life diminishes beyond
acceptability if we are lucky, we get to move ne.
Spencer, you were a part of my youth, my growth...
my journey. In the last year we became reacquainted
again and you became a part of my journey once more.
I will treasure the things you said to me when Friends
used Embryonic Journey for their closing episode.
There are many who will always be a part of my life,
living in my heart and my memory... You are in that
grand company for sure. Your pain is gone... that
jaundiced eye with which you always looked at the
world is bright again... No one could say 'Awww man,'
with more dripping disdain than you. It was in a class
with my Grandmother saying 'Feh!' to the world.
Your door into summer has opened... enjoy the journey
old friend. Ride free to the edge of the world!
My friend and partner Spencer Dryden, played drums
and percussion during what I believe was the most
creative period of Jefferson Airplane. His love of
Jazz, and influences of many of the Jazz greats gave
his approach to the music of the band such a broad
pallet to choose from. For me, some of the best times
we shared together were the early RCA Los Angeles
recording sessions. That is where he really enjoyed
himself and because of our success with Surrealistic
Pillow, gave us the extended studio time for albums
to follow, where he had the time to experiment and
search for unique things to do in the creation of
the music. Spencer and I shared a love for some of
these music influences form the Jazz world, or for
that matter, shared the appreciation of good musicianship
in general. We would talk for hours about such things........his
knowledge of music was vast and full of depth. But,
however, his absolutely wacky sense of humor used
to crack us up all the time. We shared so many fine
times laughing about silly stuff, and trying not to
take the "rock hype" too seriously. I will
always remember Spencer for his kind heart, humor,
and musicianship. God bless you Spencer. You leave
us with so many gifts to contemplate.
Jack Casady
I remember the first time I met Spencer. It was in
early 1966. Jefferson Airplane's first drummer, Skip
Spence, took some acid & split to Mexico with
Martha Wax & Girl Freiberg. The band decided that
they needed another drummer because, after a few weeks,
no one knew if he would ever come back.
They began auditioning drummers at the flat that
Marty Balin & I rented on Haight & Belvedere
sts. One day this cool guy showed up wearing a black
cowboy hat. He started jamming with Jack Casady, Jorma
Kaukonen & Paul Kantner. Marty & I watched.
He was very impressive & got the job. Spencer
was a great percussionist & technically one of
the best drummers in rock. He was not a powerful drummer
like a Keith Moon or a Ginger Baker but his chops
were as good as anyone. He had been a jazz drummer
and an avid student of the great jazz artists. He
helped form the sound of Jefferson Airplane which
was unique. They didn't sound like anyone else. I
was with the band when they were inducted into the
Rock & Roll Hall Of Fame in 1996. Everyone spoke
at the Ceremony & Spencer thanked jazz greats
who had passed on. Spencer, you are jamming at the
ultimate club with the "greats" which is
where you belong.
Groove!
Bill Thompson
Spencer and I had the quintessential rock-and-roll
marriage, and he made so many of my dreams come true.
Without Spencer, I probably would not have been dancing
onstage at Woodstock and gazing out at a whole new
city of beautiful dirty faces, or on a Hawaiian beach
at sunset, on a houseboat on Lake Tahoe, or a thousand
other places that he took me so generously. Jefferson
Airplane has defined my life in so many ways--without
Paul, I would not know Jorma; without Jorma, I would
not know Spencer, and without Spencer, I would not
have my precious, precious friend, Grace; and then
there was Jack and Jackie and Thompson and Laudner
and Chick and Marty--and so many others, and on and
on it goes. I love them all and am so incredibly grateful
that Spencer and I continued to love each other long
after we were physically separated. Most important,
Spencer gave me my beautiful son, Jesse James, and
I have never been so proud of him as I am now-watching
him care for his father has been a truly awesome experience--it's
one of the most difficult jobs in the world, and Jesse
has done it with elegance and grace, traits passed
on from his dad. I have always thought that Spencer
was one of the most under-rated musicians in the world,
and it means so much now to see his friends and fans
acknowledging his unique talent and the way his music
affected their lives. I never stopped loving Spencer,
despite his foibles and Lather-like tendencies, which
all seem incredibly inconsequential now. We were truly
the loves of each other's lives, and that will never,
never change. Go Home, Spencer, pure peace and perfect
love are waiting for you there. The circle remains
unbroken, and your place in it is secure. "Through
an open window where no curtains hung, I saw you coming
back to me," looking just the way you did when
we met at Jorma's in 1968, so impossibly handsome
and young. Go on now and take my heart and never-ending
love with you. Thank you for all things Airplane,
for your humor, your love, your generosity, your art,
your lasting friendship, for Jesse, Jackson, and Jeffrey,
and for saving my life when it needed saving. I love
you with all my heart--forever, forever, forever.
I am so looking forward to seeing you on the other
side.
Gone From My Sight
I am standing upon the seashore.
A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the
morning breeze
and starts for the blue ocean.
She is an object of beauty and strength.
I stand and watch her until at length
she hangs like a speck of white cloud
just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each
other.
Then, someone at my side says,
“There, she is gone!”
“Gone where?”
Gone from my sight. That is all.
She is just as large in mast and hull and spar
As she was when she left my side
And she is just as able to bear her load of living
freight
to her destined port.
Her diminished size is in me, not in her.
And just at the moment when someone at my side says,
“There, she is gone!”
There are other eyes watching her coming
and other voices ready to take up the glad shout,
“Here she comes!”
And that is dying.
Sally Mann Dryden (Romano)
(Gone from my Sight by Henry Van Dyke, circa 19th
c.)
I went to see Spencer the day before he left Marin
General. Through the semi-obscuring shrouds of morphine,
he spoke to me from his bed about the CD he was planning
on putting together. In spite of his obviously debilitating
illness, he seemed to be full of determination and
enthusiasm for the immediate future. One of Spencer’s
sons, Jackson, the only other person in the room,
sat patiently as two old sods rambled on about music
and other mundane things. The young, attractive nurse
who had just steered Spencer and his walker through
the maze of corridors for a bit of exercise was now
off dealing with other things medical, and quietly
gearing up for another dose of Spencer’s wry
sense of humor. Spencer knew his time was near; I
could see it in his eyes. He told me earlier this
year that he was touched by the outpouring of love
and support (my words) he received from the musical
community after his house burned down and he fell
ill. He hadn’t asked for any help.
Spencer’s son Jes, with quiet fortitude is
attempting to unravel the tangle of red tape created
by his illness and a less than sympathetic medical
system -- an on going battle. My condolences go out
to Sally and the rest of his family and friends for
their loss.
I shan’t remember Spencer as the young rock
drummer with the Jefferson Airplane because, being
a part of the British music scene, I didn’t
know him then. I will always remember Spencer as the
man with a wry glint in his eye, leaning on his walking
stick like the old salty sea dog he’s always
been, and facing his own mortality with resignation
and humor.
Pete Sears
He Had Funny Cars
From the first time I heard Spencer Dryden play the
drums in 1967, I knew the guy was way beyond. The
rattling snare of “White Rabbit,” the
wall-of-sound of “Somebody To Love,” the
pounding tom-toms of “She Has Funny Cars”—I
was an aspiring drummer myself at the time and those
tunes, along with his other contributions to Surrealistic
Pillow, turned my ideas about the instrument inside
out. I of course knew about Keith Moon and Ginger
Baker and Mitch Mitchell, the wild men, and the steady
precision of Charlie Watts and Ringo Starr. But Spencer
brought a new elegance to drumming. He was no mere
timekeeper and he was no show-off—he contributed
colors to the music and took it to a level it would
not have reached with lesser hands and feet.
It wasn’t till much later, after I Bathed at
Baxter’s, Crowned Creation, Volunteered and
Blessed My Pointed Little Head, that I really came
to understand Spencer’s approach to the drums.
He had come from a place few others in the San Francisco
scene had ventured—jazz—and he brought
that music’s openness to the Airplane, opening
doors the others in the group might not have realized
were there to be opened. Spencer’s reference
points weren’t the folkies and bluesers of the
others; his world was one inhabited by jazz cats and
Lenny Bruce, Howard Hughes, Douglas Fairbanks, Barbara
Eden (!) and Boris Karloff, and characters with names
like Athena the Golden Grecian Goddess. He had cut
his drumming teeth in the strip clubs of the Sunset
Strip, places like the Pink Pussycat, not the beatnik
coffeehouses of San Francisco’s North Beach.
No one even knew until long after he’d left
the fame game that Charlie Chaplin was his uncle,
and that he’d hung with Frank Zappa before that
mustachioed genius made his considerable mark—Zappa
would become a considerable influence on Spencer’s
artistic tendencies throughout the Airplane years;
that oddness factor you hear on “A Small Package
of Value Will Come to You, Shortly” is pure
Dryden.
San Francisco was an alien environment to Spencer
when he was first brought up there—he never
did know how Matthew Katz, the Airplane’s soon-to-be-fired
first manager, found him—to audition for the
Airplane. But it only took a few minutes for him to
fall right in and realize he was home at last. Replacing
Skip Spence on the Airplane’s drum stool was
not especially challenging for Spencer at first—he
was the most experienced musician in the band, after
all, and what they were doing wasn’t exactly
hard work. He would strive to make it so, always pushing
the edge further back. Spencer, lead guitarist Jorma
Kaukonen and bassist Jack Casady comprised the power-trio
half of the Airplane—Spencer combined muscle
and grace and brought the music out of its shell.
Speaking of Grace, their attraction to each other
in those early days was natural. When Ms. Slick became
the band’s new female singer, she and Spencer
gravitated, kindred souls. Their alignment pushed
the band’s center outward every which way, both
musically and personally, and it’s impossible
to imagine that some of the band’s more outré
material might even have existed had the pair brought
their weird tandem dynamic chemistry into play. Marty
Balin and Paul Kantner, along with Grace, might have
been the band’s premier singers and songwriters,
but Spencer’s role in the realization of their
dreams was incalculable.
It’s sometimes hard to believe now that he
was only in Jefferson Airplane for some four years
and change. But ask anyone when the Airplane’s
peak years were and they’ll tell you, without
hesitation, that it was the period of 1966-70, precisely
coinciding with Spencer’s tenure.
After he left the Airplane, Spencer of course continued
to make great music, with New Riders of the Purple
Sage and later the Dinosaurs. The man from Hollywood
became San Francisco royalty, and eventually a Rock
and Roll Hall of Fame inductee. I consider myself
fortunate to have known him. In researching and writing
my biography, Got a Revolution! The Turbulent Flight
of Jefferson Airplane, I spent many, many hours speaking
with Spencer on the phone and, whenever I could get
to the Bay Area, in person. He had a sharp mind for
detail, an even sharper wit, and a keen understanding
of the Airplane’s place in the rock world and
his own place in the Airplane. He was often a lifesaver,
sorting out for me some sequence of events that no
one else seemed quite able to remember and tossing
out anecdotes that illuminated for me the behind-the-music
goings-on that made this particular confluence of
people what it was.
Most of all though, I just liked the man. Spencer,
for all his troubles—and he had more than his
share—was a sweetie. He always took the time
to lend his help and support and he embraced my project
wholly. There was no rock star air about him—there
was a tenderness to Spencer; he was a guy you could
confide in and count on. Even as he weakened and times
got irreversibly tougher for him, I never once heard
him complain. When I came to San Francisco to promote
my book, I invited him to the reading and although
he knew that getting to the city from his home in
Petaluma would be a chore, he not only made it but
he was the star of the show, answering questions for
fans and signing books and album covers, taking the
time to speak with anyone and everyone.
The last few years were difficult, what with the
surgeries, the illnesses and the house fire. But when
I spoke to Spencer during those times, it wasn’t
his troubles that came up. It was music, people, family,
the world. Now that world is a little bit less interesting
to live in.
Jeff Tamarkin
Author of Got a Revolution! The Turbulent
Flight of Jefferson Airplane
Airplane,
Today I will give thanks to Jesus of the Forest for
giving me the privilege of knowing Spencer. He was
truly a good man. Enough said.
Faithfully,
Fr. Timothy Hogan, D.D. Bishop
Keepers of Creation Native American Church.
My condolences to all of you on the loss of Spencer
Dryden. You are all in my prayers, as is his family,
friends and fans........
God Bless you all.....
"Wildman" Dave Diamond
http://www.countryjoe.com
all respect and admiration for mr. dryden, the best
drummer (and a very creative omni-dimensional envelope
expander in general) that ja ever had....a great loss
in the heritage of one of america's finest music scenes....spencer
was inspirational and indispensable!
r d williamson new orleans, la.
I read of Spencer Dryden's death yesterday, and
was wondering if his
family has designated any charity or if there is a
memorial fund. I
can't contribute much, but would like to do something
in remembrance of
Spencer.
Also, if there's an address where I could send condolences--if
you
could let me know, I'd appreciate it.
Thanks very much for your time.
Sincerely,
Laura Kuhn
Allen Park, MI USA
Bill-
My condolences to you and all in the Jefferson Airplane family on the loss
of Spencer. I am thinking about him, and you, and
all of you. Tell me if there is anything I can do
to help.
Roman Warmke
Owner- Eden Marketing.com
(740) 592-5617
http://www.edenmarketing.com/
Hey i'm a French guy i'm 18 years old and my name
is Adrien.
yesterday i've heard on the radio that spencer Dryden
died, even i've never meet him i feel sad because
i love the Airplane and particularly when he was in
the band, all i've heard about him is that he was
the oldest man of the band and he inspired the song
called Lather.
I'm not one of his friends and he doesn't know me
but i would like to tell you my admiration for this
guy and for all the band so it makes me very sick
to know that someone of this great band who was the
airplane have died.
Thank you Mr Dryden for all you have done in my life...And
i hope you enjoyed your life on Earth..
Thanks a lot one more time.
- ADRIEN
My condolences to all the band members and family
for the passing of Spencer Dryden, drummer for Jefferson
Airplane.
Always have listened to there music since I was a
teenager, and still do at 52 yo.
Love to see all band members in concert again in
remembrance of Spencer. Thanks you for the free listening
music of
the Jefferson Airplane at your website.
Peace and Love,
Jim
godspeed and thank you Spencer, You will be missed!
Tom O'connor
As many have said, it is amazing that the band went
through 4 decades before one of their own died. Even
so, we have lost one of them much too early. Spencer
was an integral part of the Airplane sound. My condolences
to his family, along with my thanks for letting the
(music) world to get to know him.
Brian Anderson
The Unofficial Starship Home Page
www.geocities.com/starshipcity
To all the surviving members of the Airplane and
to all their fans and followers I must say how saddened
I was to read of the death of Spencer Dryden. I was
at high school when a friend introduced me to Surrealistic
Pillow and the first sounds you heard on the album,
the sounds that grabbed your ear straight away, were
the sounds of Spencer's drum kit. The Airplane took
flight through a wonderful combination of wonderful
talents and Spencer Dryden's talents were a central
part. It is more than 30 years since I first heard
the band and that sound thrills me still. Thank you
Spencer.
Mark Diamond
Sydney, Australia
I guess I've been a fan of the Airplane since Somebody
to Love and White Rabbit became hits. With Baxter's
I became a devotee. Spencer's presence was so incredible.
I remember nights as a teenager playing Spare Chaynge
in my bedroom at night with the windows open and staring
at the streetlights from my bedroom window as Jack's
bass tremoloed amidst Jorma's sustained feedback notes.
And there was Spencer's beautiful cymbal work cascading
in and out and uniting both of them. He soon would
launch into some great signature tom tom work that
you only heard with Spencer. Nobody else played drums
like that. Like the beginning to the concert version
to Somebody to Love or 3/5's of a Mile in 10 Seconds.
Brilliantly elegant, rhythmic and driving. I always
dug the way he tuned his drums. When he was relaxed
they sang. Just listen to him on The House at Pooneil
Corners and The Fat Angel. Great stuff! Then there
was the time at the Fillmore East when he and Joey
Covington played drums together with the Airplane.
Beautiful. I'll remember Spencer also for the wide
rim hats he would wear with his mustache. Spencer
was very cool and elegant. Spencer, thanks for the
music and great memories.
Kevin C. Burke
There I was, riding to work on BART happily reading
away with a book when I
happen to look up and noticed that the woman sitting
in front of me was
reading the Chronicle. Over her shoulder I noticed
a picture of Jorma
Kaukonen. "That's odd," I thought. Then
I noticed it was from that January
night in 1996 when the band was inducted in the Rock
& Roll Hall Of Fame.
Let's face it: one doesn't often see the photos of
bygone era musicians in
the paper unless tragedy or great cultural importance
has taken place. In
the case of Jefferson Airplane, they've already scooped
up just about every
award and accolade available to them. So that leaves
us with one other
option.
The woman's head was obscuring the entire headline
but all I needed to see
was the first part: "Rock Drummer." and
I knew the worst was coming down
right then and there. I leaned forward and to the
left to verify my fear:
".Dies Of Cancer." And then that empty,
black, sinking feeling ran over my
body and stayed there for the rest of the day.
Jefferson Airplane was a band of oddballs and Spencer
Dryden was the oddest
ball. Being a drummer in the Sixties was heavy business
due to the amount of
greats that era produced. Yet Spencer quietly sits
among those greats, his
legend was already secure among the large group of
under valued sticksmen.
His situation seemed obvious: an obvious jazzer who
had taken up with a
bunch of folk musicians turned rockers. He could be
delicate when needed and
a monster when pushed. On record, his drumming was
never overly aggressive,
always tasteful. On their lighter songs his drumming
was closer to sketching
than actual percussion.
As the their sound grew, Spencer rose to the challenge.
The footage of the
band playing a KQED sponsored television program called
A Night At The
Family Dog is good evidence that he could easily toss
aside his jazz licks
and dig in with his heels. After an exhausting version
of "The Ballad Of You
Me & Pooneil" the band started into "Eskimo
Blue Day", and the others stood
around the drum kit staring at Spencer almost to see
if he could take
another corker of a song. "Eskimo" goes
along easily enough until the end
when it picks up and gets hectic during the last minute
or so. At that point
the camera closes in on Spencer, head down arms slowly
getting faster and
the beats getting heavier; the drum kit shakes with
each thwack. Jack, Jorma
and Paul seem to be pulling him in different directions,
waiting for him to
fall over and everyone is leaning into the song's
finale, a kamikaze swan
dive. The last 1-2-3-4-5-6-7 beats are hit with such
force that on the
seventh as he punches both his ride and hi-hat cymbals
our hero is thrown
back a bit; another defiant finish. The cameras cuts
to a wide shot of the
small stage; Grace Slick is standing staring at the
drummer with eyes
wide.she looks over to Jorma, nods her head back towards
the drummer. The
crowd hoots and hollers its approval and the camera
fades to black.
But Spencer Dryden wasn't just a drummer; he was
a strange man with a flow
of bizarre, Fellini-like musical ideas. The songs
he created for the band
are unlike anything before or since. Sound sculptures
("A Small Package Of
Value."); rhythm clusterfucks ("Ribump Ba
Bap Dum Dum"); a three-minute
takedown of the music industry ("A Song For All
Seasons"); Dada-ist studio
anarchy ("The Saga Of Sydney Spacepig")
and a brilliant, humid ghost call
from the shadows ("Chushingura"). It's a
rare individual that can create
miniature symphonic creations like these and not make
it sound like mere
noise. No, theses are works of art. When I discovered
the band waaaaaay
back in 1987, Dryden's songs were the closest things
to the abstract punk
rock I had been listening to up to that point and
felt an immediate affinity
for him. He was a drummer, I was a drummer. He liked
weird stuff, I liked
weird stuff, too! I'll bet we would have lots to talk
about.could be
friends, even.
The only time I had the honor of meeting him was
during Jeff Tamarkin's book
reading/signing at The Booksmith on Haight Street.
Although there was plenty
of counter-culture royalty there that night, Spencer
was the only member of
the band to make it. He hobbled in with a cane smiling
and wearing a leather
jacket that looked straight out of 1985 and a red
button down shirt with a
rather loud pattern. It was obvious, he was the star
of the night; and
although one could get the impression that his predicament
was fragile, he
wasn't letting it get in the way. As Tamarkin pointed
out the selected
dignitaries scattered among the packed audience, they
would stand and wave,
acknowledging the audience. Spencer, sitting in the
front row, was last to
be introduced and, instead of getting up and turning
to the audience with a
quick wave, he slowly raised his cane up above his
head and held it there so
that everyone could see it. We were, in a sense, applauding
his cane.
Genius. When the ovation finally quieted down, he
lowered the cane with a
succession of quick short drops until it finally bounced
out of view.
Charming and deliberate; that man was brilliant even
when his health was
running him down.
We spoke briefly later on that night; I thanked him
for all his work, we
talked about Frank Zappa (who he said was the only
person he had known that
could be described as an actual genius), and about
his songs ("Oh God, I
don't even remember some of those" he comically
groaned), and then our
attention turned to the wall of magazines behind him.
He asked what was good
these days and I pointed out the venerable English
music magazine Mojo.
Spencer asked if it had any relation to the old Mojo
Navigator, the original
Bay Area rock music rag that paved the way for all
other music periodicals
out there today. Only the seriously crazed music geeks
know about Mojo
Navigator nowadays.apparently, this guy hadn't forgotten
anything. At that
point we were unceremoniously hustled out of the store
by an over zealous
manager.
So there I was riding to work with a serious black
fog inside me. I threw
the book into the empty seat next to me and spent
the rest of the commute
frowning out the window with my arms crossed over
my chest. We have lost a
beautiful human being, and a wonderful mind. I hardly
knew the gentleman,
our paths crossed once and it was all too brief but
when he spoke to you it
was like he had known you for years. He will be missed.that's
all I can
think of to sum it up: He will be missed.
Andrew Lau, San Francisco
To Spencer's family and musical brothers and sisters,
In 1970 I helped put on a concert in Albany, NY, that
featured The Airplane, and for the first time, Papa
John and Hot Tuna. The concert was help at the University
gymnasium and had two shows. Gracie was pregnant with
China at the time, and I remember discussing how society
dampens creativity...for example, a child is able
to learn and speak many languages...before social
pressures lessen this possibility.
The "boys" passed around some apple juice,
that I later found out was spiked with some delightful
hallucinogen.
Marty had a bad cold. Jorma, Jack and Spencer were
having much fun...as usual, and Pappa John was truly
a wonderful character, as well as musician.
We all ended up across the street at the Thruway House
Motel at 4:30 AM, after the Airplane and Hot Tuna
performed the most incredible musical performances
I had ever heard...and that statement stands today.
What struck me most about everyone in the group was,
after everything was said and done, that love was
the underlying force behind the Airplane. The love
of music, the love of life and all it's possibilities,
the love for each other. Just being in the presence
of such positive energy was a revelation for this
then 20 year old searcher.
I had a very difficult time reading everyone's respects
to Spencer...my eyes were constantly leaking...here
again was the love I saw 35 years ago...only now the
words were those of remembrance and sorrow...and the
joy of having known Spencer.
My heart goes out to his wife (ex., but never really...)
and his children. Your husband and Father gave so
many people such joy, such happiness, such love in
the music he played. His legacy, and the legacy of
all musicians is unique...one can simply play the
music and he and they come alive once more...I play
Surrealistic Pillow often, as it brings me back to
a time of Peace and Love...a time when a young idealistic
youth movement actually did change the world.
Spencer, you meant so much to so many...you always
will.
To the rest of the Airplane...you never really knew
how much your music affected those who listened...and
understood.
Thank you, thank you, thank you for being part of
my life...a part that I choose to reinforce now and
then. Your music is like a warm Teddy Bear...it is
huggable, as are all of you.
My heart goes out to you all. My conversations with
the Great Spirit give me hope that we will all meet
again some day...in a place with no wars, no hatred,
only love and peace, where everyone will "Find
Somebody to Love".
Spencer...say a prayer...for US!
James Wagner
NYC
I can hardly find the appropriate words, but am so
sorry to learn of the loss of Spencer Dryden. Through
the years, Jefferson Airplane remains my absolute
favorite, and I especially love Crown of Creation
and After Bathing at Baxter's. Still listen to all
their music, and have always been knocked out by Spencer's
sublime drumming, the way it perfectly fits with the
rest of the amazing energy and vision of the group.
He is free and out of pain now, but wish he hadn't
gone so soon.
Nancy Nelson
Lincoln, Nebraska
No...I am not Dryden's father. 7 years ago my wife
and I were looking for a name for our second son.
I thought...Hey, why not look through my old LPs at
some of the cool musician names on the backs. I came
to Bathing
At Baxters and said, "Wow, far out, let's name
him Spencer after Spencer Dryden. So we did. He is
now 7 years old and I only hope that he can bring
such pleasue to the world as Dryden did. I saw Jorma
and Hot Tuna Jan. 25 in Rochester and when he said
Spencer had died a tear of sadness and joy came to
my eye. A very weird feeling. If my son Spencer starts
to play drums I will freak out. I've been a working
guitarist in this area for 40 years. It could happen.
And so I say "Goodbye" and "Hello"
to SPENCER !
Mike Kornrich -Rochester NY
I'm a long time fan of Jefferson Airplane here in
Peru and I was very sad about Spencer's illness and
tragic last days. I still remember the delight of
listening for the first time "Ballad of You &
Me & Pooneil" in Dec 67 by short-wave radio,
recording the song to a small reel to reel tape, and
being amazed by the magic rhythm and the unusual vocals
of Grace Slick. In those years there were no local
editions of the classic Airplane albums with Spencer
Dryden playing drums (not even the singles!). Under
a military rule, that short-wave crispy recordings
of "Baxter's", "Crown of Creation"
and "Volunteers" sounded for us like a wild
cry for freedom and peace. And it was really like
that, not only for the lyrics but for the formidable
sound, with that cavalry-charge-alike drumming I still
recall. Thanks Spencer, for all that wonderful playing.
Hugo Vallenas
Lima Peru
In Memory of Spencer Dryden
A cup of water returns to the stream
Friends return to the surge
You are a fact I branded myself with
You are a reason I believe in love
Direction, surprise, delight and change
Lessons that can't be taught
Answer what was never asked
You are more than your parts
I spin in universal rotation of truth
Because of You
Faces, places, thoughts and tears
Today I see me in You
That could only happen without you
Now I see.
Each moment- each breathe- I'll sanctify
I promise I will because you are gone
And because you lived
With respect I'll cherish the dawn of life
This time I will.
You have even now given me purpose in life.
Ease on in grace and light
Thread the scenes of heaven with laughter
And be tranquil
Knowing all of us still weave our lives with your
touch
From a fan of the music, and an admirer of peace
KarenCraven
Craven2@Prodigy.net
My heart is with your family and friends.
ON SPENCER DRYDEN AND HIS GIFT TO MUSIC
There has never been a great rock band without a
great drummer. Ringo took a drubbing from clever pundits
and know-nothings as if he was not in the league of
the other Beatles. But Ringo, the greatest, changed
the world in a most crucial moment in modern history
with his sheer explosive and contagious joy in playing.
He played, and in playing he made us smile, made us
dance. Charlie Watts came and got us swaying further.
By now, we all know the virtues of the great showy
and technical drummers, but we often overlook the
things which are more lasting and which transform
us on a deeper level.
From this moment in human history when our lungs
are crushed by the airless weight of aggressive avarice,
its hard to recall the shining moment when we could
see the crack in the façade of the consensual
hallucination we call society, that the defenders
of the bastions of narrowness tell us is civilization
– is, in fact, the civilization. But there was
such a moment, when I was a child. I was raised in
it, and some of us remember.
What did Spencer bring to the game? What was his
personal turf, his unique gift, both to himself and
us? He brought us freedom from time. He treated the
time of a song or the time of a jam as if it was simply
the play-thing of the musicians and singers. He knew
that rigidity of tempo and phrasing wasn’t a
rule, but one of many possibilities – a color
to be employed for contrast and shading. He knew that
drums could be dialogue and not just backing. In the
music he loved, this was common knowledge, but the
music he loved wasn’t a popular form. Spencer
gave is the gift of knocking down the imagined wall
between what was allowed in esoterica, the music of
hipsters and cognoscenti, and what was done in the
mass market. He took his unique opportunity in musical
history, the commercial success of JA, and said, "OK!
I’m going over here! Who’s coming?"
And JA went, and so did we all who loved them and
grew up with them, and got changed in the bargain.
Our spines were looser, our ideas not quite so contained
in a metered thought-process.
Spencer and Jack were fluid, a kind fluidity that
rhythm section partners don’t usually achieve
in pop music. I took up the bass shortly after Spencer
left JA, and the first iconic record for me was "Crown
of Creation." And the pairing of Spencer and
Jack became the template of what was achievable –
freedom. For me, it would be decades before I encountered
drummers who had learned what Spencer knew so long
ago. We make the choices and the rules.
Bass players, like other players, are always asked
what other bassists influenced us. But we should be
asked about drummers. The list of drummers I love
is long, but at the top of the list of those who influenced
me is Spencer. I learned more from listening to him
than any other drummer. I learned that all of it –
all the music – is my responsibility and choice.
Dan Schwartz
Los Angeles CA
February 6, 2005
Rest in the light of serenity, Spencer. I was lucky
to visit Fulton house about 25 years ago, met Bill,
Jorma, Jackie, all the others were present through
the walls, I guess. Even I got this Margareta's drawing
made by Ed... Strange loving family ! But how strange
is what happened one month ago... I lost a writing
file,... the main character was named Dryden, never
knew how it comes in my papers, and one chapter was
dedicated to my old black Groenendal dog... This "surrealistic"
loss has now an explanation, oh just for me, for sure.
Blimey ! Spencer, how to forget these golden days
when you all were together for fun, for music, for
love, for creativity. Thanks a lot, Drumming Dryden.
Marie Dalloz
Paris, Feb 12, 2005
I'm a native of San Francisco, fortunate enough to
have been coming up at
the same time the San Francisco musical scene came
into its own. I was
heavily into electronics besides being a musician
(vocals, bass). The shop I
worked for, Audio Alley on Monterey Blvd. (long gone)
did some repair work
and P.A. work for a number of local bands, and one
night we were in the
store listening to music when one of the owners of
the Matrix club came in
with Spencer (I cannot for the life of me recall if
it was Peter or the
other cat (whose name, to my chagrin, I have forgotten
- doesn't matter). We
smoked some of fine weed and listened to music together.
I was impressed
that Spencer just seemed like a regular down to earth
guy. My boss was in
awe, but I have met a lot of famous rock stars before
and since, and Spencer
was anything but full of himself. He never said a
word about who he was, and
I thought that was exactly the way it ought to be.
Like everyone else, not
that my humble opinion means anything, I thought he
was the best drummer the
band ever had, and thought the JA's LPs with him were
their best work going
away.
When I learned the other day that Spencer had passed,
it hit me hard and
left me with a deep sadness. There is no doubt that
there is less joy in the
world. Yes, all things indeed pass, but some passings
have more impact than
others. I never get nostalgic for those times - rather
I hope that my life
is just an extension of those times and my values
consistent with those
expressed by the musicians of that time. Maybe love
wasn't enough on its
own, but we, who believed it then, should still carry
on as if it is, and
maybe someday it might be.
Thanks, Spencer. It wouldn't have been the same without
you, and it won't
now.
With sincerity,
Bud Izen
Keizer Oregon
Feb. 23, 2005
I know it has been some time since We all lost Spencer,
I just wanted to send my love to all in his life (He
touched many of us), and share some thoughts. There
is no question in my mind that the Airplane from '66
to '70 is one of the most meaningful era's of any
type of music, not just the extraordinary sounds,
but the positive feelings we all get when we listen
to that music now, especially now. In a time that
was basically owned by drummers like Ginger, Keith,
and Mitch, it was Spencer who kept the Greatest American
band there was, together.
I recently saw Jorma, and asked if he would play
something for Spencer, his response to the crowd was
"The whole night is for Spencer". And at
the Jefferson Starship show I saw a few weeks ago,
Paul said "This is for our dear departed Spencer
Dryden" as they went into a pretty amazing "Lather".
In both instances, the crowd was silent for just a
moment, followed by a very hearty ovation, for the
Music and the Man. Thank You Spencer, All Love.
Sincerely
Paul Adorno
Cream Ridge, New Jersey
March 9, 2005
Es una pena que uno de los Jefferson Airplane se
haya adelantado al viaje, Spencer forma parte en la
historia del Rock and Roll y tambien en la historia
de mucha gente alrededor del mundo.
Spencer, desde donde estés te vamos a extrañar
mucho, pero te vamos a recordar en la música
de los Jefferson.
Hasta muy pronto Spencer, nos vemos en el paraiso.
Mis más sinceras condolencias para su familia.
Atte: Raúl Romero Parra
Puebla Pue. México
Marzo 11, 2005
Hi, it's forty years after the "summer of love,"
and I've been listening
a lot recently to my Airplane CD's. They were always
my favorite San
Francisco band. I love in particular Bless its Pointed
Little Head,
which has got to be one of the greatest "live"
albums ever. Wonderful
drumming, not to mention the fantastic vocals and
musicianship. Marty
and Grace, amazing, and Jack and Jorma, incredible,
as well as Paul's
mysticism.
And I've been listening to Bathing at Baxters and
Crown of Creation.
Incredible stuff, and what's also wonderful is that
my 19-year-old son
loves the music too. In fact, he has turned on several
of his friends
to the Airplane, and they like it very much. These
are kids who mostly
listen to Radiohead, and the Strokes, and Kings of
Leon, and Arcade
Fire, and other great new indie groups.
But I have always really loved Spencer Dryden. I'll
never forget, in
about 1973 I saw the New Riders in upstate NY, and
I didn't know that
Spencer was their drummer. I thought, I don't know
who their drummer
is, but he's fantastic! When I found out it was Spencer,
after the
concert, I was tremendously excited that it was him,
as I'd never been
able to see the Airplane. (I bought a ticket to see
them in NYC in
1970, but Marty and Grace didn't show up ... I think
it was just Jack
and Jorma, and they played as Hot Tuna and it was,
frankly, a
disappointment as I was very cranked to hear the Airplane
live.)
I always found Spencer's playing incredibly tasteful
and more than that
quite exciting. Maybe it's the jazz influence, but
his playing was
unique and I thought that it was a perfect match for
the music.
Anyway, this group's music lives on. Wonderful, wonderful
stuff. Many
thanks to you guys for the great memories.
Philip Berkowitz
New York, NY
June 28, 2007
Send emails to info@jeffersonairplane,
or sign the guestbook located here: http://www.spencerdryden.com
