Bruce Conte and Me (posted 3/2012; updated 8/2021)

 

With an exciting new Soul Vaccination CD, featuring guest guitarist Bruce Conte, about to be released, I've been thinking about how it came to be.  It's a long, winding story, going back to my teens in San Francisco.

 

Back then—in the late '60s—Bruce was playing in a band called Common Ground, led by my first organ teacher, Norm Bellas.  They rehearsed a couple times at my folks' house in SF, which is how I first met Bruce.  Bruce was just a couple of years older than me, but he'd been playing professionally for a long time already (going back to when he played bass in his hometown of Fresno at the age of fourteen).  Later, Bruce had switched to guitar—a natural move in that his older cousin, Victor (yes, THAT Victor Conte), was a bass player.

 

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Norm Bellas                              the young Bruce in his signature leather jacket         Victor Conte            

 

The line-up of Common Ground included both Contes, Bruce & Victor, plus fellow Fresno-ite Coleman Head, a vocalist, guitarist, and songwriter (Coleman later wrote for Tower of Power among others).  Norm played organ, and the drummer was Lonnie Castile.  Lonnie was the funkiest drummer you've never heard of. That's him on Wilson Pickett's “Midnight Mover,” and on Janice Joplin's “Try.”  He also recorded with Charlie Musselwhite and Rare Earth before, sadly, giving up music and becoming a Jehovah's Witness.  (Reportedly Lonnie did start playing again in the '90s.)

 

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Common Ground (l to r: Coleman Head, Lonnie Castile, Bruce & Victor Conte)

 

But back to Bruce and me... After Common Ground broke up, Bruce called Norm about playing a steady gig with him in Des Moines, Iowa.  Norm couldn't make it, and he recommended me.  Now, I was still a beginner, but Bruce didn't have any other options, so I got the gig!  We drove back to Iowa together in Bruce's little '68 VW Bug, and along the way Bruce shared tips about women (not very helpful) and music (very helpful).  We made the trip in one day, talking all the way--fueled by a couple of little yellow pills.  (Upon arriving, Bruce wisely flushed the remainder of those pills down the toilet; he thought they were a little TOO effective!)

 

Needless to say, I was excited to be on the road, preparing to play my first gig.  We were to play in a band led by a drummer whom Bruce knew from Fresno.  (Another Fresno musician, a young bassist named Charlie Magarian, arrived in Des Moines a couple days after we did.)  The drummer was living in the 'hood, at the home of his vocalist girlfriend's mom, and that's where we stayed as well.  The mom was a tough lady—feared in the neighborhood, we were told--but she fed us soul food and generally made us feel at home.

 

Things changed, however, when Bruce decided the gig wasn't shaping up well and that we should head back to Fresno.  (Among other problems, the drummer wore a hearing aid—except when drumming!)  We were in the backyard when the mom got word of our plans.  Suddenly the back door flew open and a skillet full of hot grits came flying in our direction.  Bruce, Charlie, and I ran to the VW and peeled rubber.  As we pulled away, we heard a shotgun blast in our wake!

 

We'd escaped unscathed—if unpaid, as we'd never actually played a gig.  But now the three of us were crammed into that tiny Bug along with our luggage and Bruce & Charlie's instruments & amps.  (I'd had my cut-down Hammond shipped out there, and the drummer was nice enough to arrange shipment of it back to SF following our hasty departure.)  Bruce and Charlie sat in front, and I was shoehorned into a tiny crevice in back.  Once again, Bruce had a pharmacological solution: he gave me a sleeping pill and I slept all the way back to Fresno.

 

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A Volkswagen Bug, circa '68                             My cutdown Hammond CV

 

So my first road trip was a bit of a fiasco.  Still, it was an exciting adventure for a teenaged keyboard player, and it was the beginning of a long friendship between Bruce and me.  Soon after my return to SF, I was able to hook Bruce up with a popular Bay Area band called the Loading Zone, featuring vocalist Linda Tillery.  (By this time, I was studying with Loading Zone organist Tom Coster, who had mentioned their search for a guitarist.)  That gig led indirectly to Bruce's joining Tower of Power, as the Loading Zone shared rehearsal space with TOP and regularly opened for them, and the latter band was having issues with their guitarist.

 

During this period--Bruce's Loading Zone stint and his early days with TOP--we lived together in a couple of musicians' pads—first in Berkeley, and then in nearby El Sobrante.  Later, when I was living in SF and Bruce was a few miles south in Burlingame, we'd get together and go fishing at the Brisbane Tubes just south of Candlestick Park on Highway 101.  Great fishing spot, but occasionally we'd get kicked out.  The spot is right on the edge of the highway, and the CHP officers liked to keep it for themselves!

 

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Linda Tillery of Loading Zone                                        Bruce in Tower of Power

 

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The Brisbane Tubes                                                    With a pair of Brisbane Tubes striped bass

 

Following Bruce's seven year, seven album run with TOP, which coincided with the band's heyday, he formed a group called Jumpstreet, featuring vocalist Gavin Christopher.  That was a fine band; Christopher was a gifted singer/songwriter (he wrote Chaka Khan's “Once You Get Started” among other hits).  But Herbie Hancock heard the band and hired away Christopher and the group's keyboardist, Nate Ginsburg.  After a stint with the Lydia Pense band, Bruce returned to leading his own group, now dubbed Hot Street.  I played keys; other members included a fiery female vocalist, Terri Smith, drummer/vocalist Jimmy Walker (who'd been a Righteous Brother), and powerhouse bassist Gary Calvin.  To get an idea of what that band sounded like, check out “Somebody New,” a demo tune we recorded, penned by Coleman Head and Nate Ginsburg.  (That's under “Audio” at my website, www.louispain.com)

 

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Gavin Christopher                                                              Hot Street, circa 1982

 

After Hot Street broke up, Bruce and I went our separate ways.  He moved to L.A. and led Power Play, a group that performed in Vegas, and I returned to leading a San Francisco soul-jazz organ group.  (The name of that band? Common Ground, of course—I'd kind of inherited that.)  The Hot Street break-up had been a little contentious (as band breakups tend to be), and Bruce and I didn't talk for a time.  But eventually, after I'd moved to Portland in '86, we got back in touch.  And when I visited L.A. with the Paul deLay Band around '95, Bruce played host and tour guide, taking us to a Hollywood club to hang out and listen.

 

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"Common Ground" w/ Fred Casey (l) & John Nichols          The Paul deLay Band @ Fillmore Auditorium

 

Bruce and I continued to talk sporadically until last year, when I had the idea of getting Bruce out to Portland to play at the Safeway Waterfront Blues Festival with Soul Vaccination.  It seemed like a natural, seeing as Soul Vax is an excellent horn band that plays a bunch of TOP tunes and is even named after one of the band's signature songs.  Bruce lives in the Philippines these days, but he gets home to Fresno every summer for a couple weeks, during which he lines up a few engagements and recording sessions.  So I got everything coordinated with my former Paul deLay bandmate Peter Dammann, who hires talent for the festival, and Dave Mills, bandleader of Soul Vax.  Peter gave us the festival's closing slot: on the Fourth of July, right before the fireworks.  Dave was also able to book a club gig for Bruce and Soul Vax--at Portland's Jimmy Mak's--for later the same week.  My wife Tracy, a flight attendant, arranged cheap flights from LA for Bruce, and he stayed with us during his stay (becoming buddies with our three cats).

 

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Bruce, Tracy, and me on our deck                              Bruce with Marty the Cat

 

The band—thirteen strong--assembled at our Washougal home a few days prior to the festival.  (The house features a large basement “man cave”—perfect rehearsal space for even a big group like this one.)  We decided on material then, and arranged & rehearsed it, with Bruce suggesting adjustments to the band's rhythm arrangements and Dave rearranging the horns accordingly.   Everything came together beautifully, and afterwards, as we hung out in the kitchen, Bruce suggested recording the Jimmy Mak's gig. Dave said, “sure,” and that was that: we decided to make a CD together.

 

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Soul Vaccination/Bruce Conte rehearsal in the Man Cave

 

The blues festival set went great, but the Jimmy Mak's gig went even better. The band was tight, and Bruce took some phenomenal guitar solos—a couple of which featured his distinctive rhythm guitar playing.  Bruce is arguably the best rhythm guitarist I've ever worked with, and I've worked with some good ones.  He drives bands just as much as their drummers do.  In the mix of Tower Of Power recordings, this doesn't entirely come across.  But on the Soul Vax CD, it's very apparent—particularly on the aforementioned guitar solos, which begin with the rest of the band laying out while Bruce plays rhythm.  Electrifying stuff!

 

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Soul Vax/Bruce Conte @ Jimmy Mak's, 7-9-11 

 

In a sense, the new CD, titled “What Is Hip,” is a re-imagining of Tower of Power as a band in which guitar and horns share the spotlight.  Hip indeed!  For me, this CD is the highlight of my long association with Bruce, as well as the most exiting thing that Soul Vaccination has done to date.  I think folks are truly going to be knocked out!

 

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CD cover

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UPDATE, 8/10/21:

Sadly, Bruce Conte--my oldest and dearest friend in music--passed away earlier this week (on August 8) in the Philippines.  He'd battled leukemia for around 20 years after his doctors had given him 5 to live, but that illness had been in remission.  As of this writing, the cause of death hasn't been disclosed.  But it was sudden, suggesting  heart attack or stroke (both Bruce's father and grandfather had died of heart attacks). 

Over the nine-plus years since I wrote the above blog entry, my personal and musical friendship with Bruce had continued.  My wife Tracy organized three different concert/auction fundraisers for him--at Portland's Jimmy Mak's in 2013 and 2015 and at Yoshi's in Oakland later in 2013.  All were all-star events featuring some of the best blues, funk, & soul musicians to come out of Portland and the Bay Area.  Chester Thompson, the legendary Tower of Power and Santana organist, participated in all three events as well as a memorable "funk workshop" with Bruce between the two days of the 2013 benefit.  The  2015 concert was recorded for a completed but unreleased CD, "Bruce Conte & Friends, Live at Jimmy Mak's."

Later, when I prepared to record my first CD of original instrumentals in 2019, I was stumped as to how to get the guitar feel I had in mind.  Eight of the 15 tunes were in the "soul jazz" bag, and I just didn't know anyone who could do what Bruce did on that kind of material.  So despite the fact that the project was being recorded "live in the studio," I sent those 8 tracks to the Philippines for Bruce to overdub guitar.  I knew he hadn't been playing much and had been dealing with some health issues, so I kind of held my breath to see what Bruce would send back to me.  But when I did listen to it, I got so excited that I yelled out loud and scared Tracy!  One of the tunes, titled "Brulie" after Bruce's childhood nickname, features one of his patented rhythm guitar solo breakdowns.  After mixing & mastering, I sent the completed CD to Downbeat, the world's top jazz magazine.  They included it in their year-end "Best Albums of 2019" issue.  I really don't think that would have happened without Bruce's contribution.

Along with all the music making and planning over the 9-plus years following the release of "What Is Hip," Bruce and I did a lot of reminiscing about our early adventures together, particularly that memorable, but abortive, road trip to Des Moines, Iowa.  We shared many laughs about that!  And during Bruce's visits to Portland from the Philippines--during which he always stayed with us--Tracy and Bruce grew almost as close as a brother and sister.  They often texted back and forth about Bruce's health, my teenage quirks, and their shared love of cucumbers and our seven-toed cat Marty.  After Bruce's first visit, I went out and got a sign, "The Conte Bedroom," for the guest bedroom he stayed in.  That sign has been up ever since, and it'll stay up for as long as we live in our home.  R.I.P. "Brulie."

 

 

 

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