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Each semester, the History of Rock Music class, taught by Professor Jen Gunderman invites a special guest speaker to speak to the class about their personal experiences. Past guests have included Ketch Secor, from Old Crow Medicine Show, among others. Last Thursday, saxophonist Bobby Keys spoke to the class about his experiences as a rock musician. Keys, who lives in Nashville and still plays regularly, is the only musician in history to have played with The Stones, all of The Beatles individually, Eric Clapton, Buddy Holly, and Elvis Presley. As Gunderman said, “I’m completely tickled to have Bobby Keys speak to this class.”
The following is taken from Keys presentation to the History of Rock and Roll Music class on Dec. 1.
Professor Jen Gunderman: Why did you pick up the saxophone?
Bobby Keys: That was another series of accidents. Most of life is about as unrehearsed as a hiccup. I was raised in as small town in Texas called Slaton, and the only way to go to the football games was to join the band. The only instrument that the band had left, because my grandparents sure weren’t going to spring for any musical instruments for me (I’d been campaigning for a guitar for years but eh-eh, no way), was a baritone saxophone so that’s what I picked up. The band director showed me how to put it together. I couldn’t read music, still can’t, but that doesn’t really matter when you’re just one lonely baritone saxophone player in a group of 74 people. It doesn’t matter what you play. That’s how I picked up the saxophone — accident.
JG: So basically from the moment you picked up your instrument you were improvising you own part and making your own sound.
BK: I rewrote John Phillips Sousa and all other march masters.
JG: Do you think that not reading music has loaned to your more individual sound since you weren’t reading other people’s parts?
BK: Well, it’s had some effects on my career. Not reading music has really not affected my rock and roll career. When I hear something I can generally play it. I just play from what I feel and what I hear. Usually I steal licks from the guitar players. The keys rhythms are responsible for a lot of the stuff I played with The Stones. I’ve based a lot of the lines I used on the keys rhythms and the guitar.
JG: A lot of keys guitar playing can be traced back to swing section horns, right?
BK: Oh yeah! You wouldn’t think this of Keith (Richards), a lot of people don’t know, but he’s quite an authority on “decomposing composers” as he puts it: Beethoven, Bach. He particularly likes Antonio Vivaldi, and he turned me on to the Four Seasons. This is Keith: “Hey, Bobby! Check out these dead guys!” And he pointed out similarities between classical music and Chuck Berry. He said, “Listen to this man, Tony,” — as he called Antonio Vivaldi — “Listen to what Tony did here with these strings. That’s the same thing Chuck Berry’s doing.” And yeah, it was a bit of a stretch but you can hear interrelationships.
JG: Some say that touring with The Stones was a deep musical education. Do you agree?
BK: Well, yes. With Keith, after a gig we’d go back to his room and listen to anything from jazz and country music. He loved George Jones. A lot of 50s rock and roll: Little Richard, Chuck Berry.
JG: Gram Parsons gets a lot of credit for turning Keith on to country music. Do you think that’s fair?
BK: I know it’s fair because I was with Keith when he and Gram first met.
JG: You were touring with bands when you were 14 years old. How is that possible?
BK: Well, I graduated from school early. (Audience laughs) I had the opportunity to go out and play music and actually get paid for it. It wasn’t 14 actually, it was actually 15. I started playing when I was younger than that.
JG: Did you like life on the road?
BK: I loved life on the road. You would know that any road leading out of Slaton, Texas is a likable road. There’s lots of stuff going on outside of Texas, especially rock n roll music and girls, lots of girls.
JG: You’re famous for many stories. One of the best is that you spent an entire tour’s salary with The Stones and missed a show in Europe filling up a bathtub with Dom Pérignon and taking a bath with a lady friend. How many bottles of Dom Pérignon does it take to fill up a bath tub?
BK: If you have to ask, you can’t afford it.
JG: You have an autobiography coming out soon. Is Keith Richard’s most recent book “Life” true?
BK: This one yes. There have many others that are pure fiction. But this one is very on the money.
JG: You and Keith were born on the same day, right?
BK: Same day, same year, same month within a few minutes of each other. We’re both Sagittarius, born on December 18, 1943. When we discovered that Keith said to me, “Hey Bobby, you know what this means?” I said, “No, Keith. What does this mean?” He said, “It means you’re half-man, half-horse and you have a license to s**t in the streets.” I never knew really what that meant but I knew I liked the sound of it. I never did it but I know that if I do and if somebody asks me about it I’ll say, “Keith said I got a license to!” There it is.
JG: How is it that you guys remained close all of these years?
BK: Music. Primarily music. And I just like the guy. I like the way he plays the guitar. I like rock 'n' roll. He likes rock 'n' roll. Aside from the similarity in age there’s a similarity in art and feelings about music and rock 'n' roll. Physically we ain’t too much alike. I’m bigger than he is.
JG: Thery’re all really small. Mick Jagger is tiny.
BK: That’s because Hitler deprived them of their vegetables during World War II. That’s what Keith said. He said, “Man, Hitler’s dropping bombs on our gardens!”
JG: How did you end up playing on all of the coolest records every made?
BK: I started playing sessions. Dion the Waunderer was the first record I played on that was a hit. The whole thing really started in California in the late 60s when I was playing with a band called Delaney & Bonnie & Friends. That period of time brought out a lot in me.
JG: Eric Clapton and George Harrison wanted to be in your band, right?
BK: Yeah! Well, it wasn’t my band, but yeah. I remember staging on stage it was so surreal cause this was 1969, the Beatles were still together. We were on the road with Delaney & Bonnie and we’re going to Europe to play. Yeah, and all of a sudden man we’ve got George Harrison and Eric Clapton on guitar. It was a damn good band! It was kind of a surreal thing. This was not the part of any grand plan or grand design that I had. It was fun!
JG: How do you account for having been at the right place at the right time?
BK: Pure luck. It’s as unrehearsed as a hiccup. I’ve got the chops and I’ve developed the ability to play and I’ve got the ear. If I hear something I can generally play it right away. I don’t know if there’s anything about my personality or winning smile or drop dead good looks or whatever, but I always wanted to be around people who were being creative and making music. And if you stick around those people, those people know other people and it’s a networking kind of a deal. I did it by just happening to be in the right place at the right time and having a certain amount of musical ability to stick around.
JG: Mad Dogs & Englishmen is a documentary that generally shows musicians and freaks. It was an amazing experiment. How did you get into that?
BK: What’s the difference between musicians and freaks? (Audience laughs) There was a change in music, socially, in a lot of things. Everything’s reflected in art. It reflects the times. There was a coming together of young people, railing against the proletariat. It was a wonderful time. There was a surge of creativity, of young people, feeling heavy feelings that they wanted to express and expressing them musically. We bonded together on common issues like human rights. It was time for change. Change was done musically. Everything changed, attitudes, socially, for the better.
JG: What was it like recording in Harry Nilsson? Specifically on the song “You’re Breaking My Heart?”
BK: I first recorded on an album recorded in London called Nilsson Schmilsson. The catch line of that song is “You’re breaking my heart, you tear it apart, so f**k you!” He’s the godfather of one of my children. He was not concerned about political correctness. It was his art. He just did it. That’s why I have so much respect for him.
JG: Was it easier or more difficult for artists to take that stance then than now?
BK: The ones that are passionate about what they’re doing and what they’re singing, they’re going to stick to their guns and tell the label to go suck eggs. With the situation the way it is now in the recording industry, the labels are not nearly the important part of the equation that they used to be because they’re so many ways to release your own albums and form your own labels. You don’t have to go to a big black building to try to beg for money to put your product out. You can do it yourself.
JG: How do you and Jim Price come up with your product together?
BK: Traditionally horn sections comprised a minimum of three or four horns. But since it was just two of us we take a line in the song like the song “Bitch,” the horn parts were originally guitar parts. We played a lot of things in unison and octaves to give it a slightly different sound. Jim had perfect pitch, and I don’t. I tend to be a little bit sharp because I over blow. He said, “Bobby, you know you got to try to play in tune!” I said, “Jim, don’t mess with it, it’s our sound, man. That’s what it supposed to be. That song, that’s phasing don’t you hear it?” I’d make up anything to get him off my back. In effect, with two horns you think you might be limited but it freed you up to utilize different parts. We amplified different parts of the song that already existed. We’d take an element that was already in the song and we’d get suggestions, but primarily that’s where a lot of the horn parts came from.
JG: How much of your playing is intuitive? It doesn’t seem to be intellectual for you or very thought out.
BK: Just hum it and play it! Point where you want me to come in and wiggle your ears where you want me to come out!
Student: What is “Brown Sugar” really about?
BK: I don’t know. It’s about a lady. Hey — I just play saxophone. I don’t know anything about the words! I couldn’t even understand the words until I read ‘em! You know with English singers there’s an accent. The first line is “A gold coast slave ship bound for cotton fields,” and I played that song for ten years before I knew what that opening line was. It’s about a girl. Most songs are. It could have been a brown girl. It wasn’t about the cane product.
S: Was it a master-slave sex fantasy? A lot of people seem to be offended by that song.
BK: I guess so. I never though about it that way! By God, you’re right! Wait ‘til I tell Keith!
S: Are you going on the upcoming Rolling Stones 50th Anniversary tour?
BK: I hope there are future gigs. I don’t know. People tell me “Shut up. When we’re ready we’ll call you.” No other band has bade it to that bench mark so if everybody’s above ground and perpendicular to the horizon I would think there would be a good chance that there might be a tour. I hope I’m there and I hope you’re there. I plan on being there. You’ll have to go to ticket-tron.
S: What was your favorite venue to play in?
BK: Madison Square Gardens. The Stones are well received in New York and I like the vibe of the place.
S: Did you get in trouble when you were younger for not knowing how to play music?
BK: Did I get in trouble? Yes! Did I get in trouble for not playing music? No! I was in a big band, nobody knew what I was doing. I kept it quiet. I got in trouble, yeah. Still do.
S: Was The Beatles's creative process different than The Stones’?
BK: George’s album, All Things Must Pass, we played on that. It was produced by Phil Spector. Being a horn player, we usually come in after the tracks are laid. They say, “Oh! We need to stick something there!” Usually it’s horns or hand claps. It’s a matter of being in the studio and asking, for example, George, “What do you hear? What do you want us to play? Got any ideas?” We don’t write stuff down. It’s a matter of doing it by ear, mapping it out, and overdubbing.
S: What do you think about Keith Richards in Pirates of the Caribbean?
BK: It was a role he was born to play. He’s always reminded me of a pirate. He carries the Jolly Roger around, been doing that for years, the old skull and crossbones. Will fly it from whatever balcony, from his hotel room generally he puts it out there. Raises the colors as it were.
S: What’s the weirdest experience you’ve had on tour?
BK: Melbourne, Australia, 1973. Someone gave Keith and me some psychedelics. We were playing at this outdoor tennis stadium and we’ve got the queen’s royal coach and a million white horses to take us out to the stage. Keith and I dipped into a little mushroom that was given to us. You know, you don’t want to refuse a gift! And that gig was the weirdest gig I’ve ever played in my life. It was only Keith and I that had taken this stuff. I was up on stage and we were looking out there and all of a sudden things were starting to go a little bit funny. I’m hearing these songs that I’ve played on, but I don’t kind of recognize ‘em all of a sudden. I’m lookin’ to Keith and any time I look at him and he looks at me it’s instant laughter. Yes, that was a very weird gig. I remember trying to follow my saxophone around the stage. Like a wet noodle in my mouth. It was kind of wobbly and all over the place. And I’ll never forget that gig and the other five guys that were on stage will never let us forget that gig. Good gig.
S: Do you prefer touring or recording?
BK: I like them both. I haven’t been in the studio in the long time. There’s been a saxophonic drought in the band as far as recordings go. I hope to change that with these upcoming albums. Playing live is actually the most fun. Recording for me means sitting there waiting until everyone else is done and getting up there and filling in. I love live gigs. There’s nothing like them for me.
S: What’s the effect of the media on the bands’ career?
BK: It’s been great for it! A lot of that stuff is so jive! There’s so many stories out there and so many things that I don’t pay any attention any of them any more. I’ve read about myself and about things I was supposed to have done that I only wish I’d have done.
S: What’s the strangest fake story you’ve found written about yourself?
BK: There’s a story that I gave Keith Richards my blood. People still come up to me and say, “Hey man. What’s that place in Transylvania where Keith went to get his blood changed?” And I said, “Well, you know man, I was with him. I gave him my blood! We were both born the same day.” And they believed me! Doesn’t have to be a match, just have to be born on the same day. You guys are students and you know that that doesn’t really occur. But there seem to still be people who think that it does. I used to hear stories about the homosexuality and the satanic side of the band and I was kind of worried about that when I first joined the band. I’m from Texas! Old Texas, not New Texas! I’d say, “Now what the hell am I going to do if some makes an indescent proposition? How am I gonna handle that? ‘Cause I like the money...” But it never came up. It’s all crap. I never had to worry about that. Mick never even kissed me. He shook my hand, though.
S: How was working with John Lennon?
BK: I got to know John in England when I moved up to the countryside in the property adjacent to his house. John and I had a foundation for friendship, so to speak. He was a big fan of Buddy Holly and Roy Orbison and that particular time in music. And because I knew Buddy and I knew the guys in the band we had something to establish a basis for communication on. There are a few people who when you’re around them they’ve just got something about them that makes you just want to do the best you can. You really feel like, “Hey, this is significant.”
The first time I was in the studio with him on his own I played on a track called Power To The People. And John was very much a Power To The People kind of guy. He was very much a common man, so to speak, as opposed to all of the politics a the time. I remember we did the Walls And Bridges album and John called me up to New York — I was living to Los Angeles — to do the horns are the album. His producer had lined up all of these heavy hitter New York guys that could read music, write music, s**t music — they did it all. So I’m kind of nervous going up there because I’ve got to go into the studio with all of the New York heavies. So I go to John’s place in The Dakota and I say, “John, this is wonderful! Thank you for bringing me here and making me leader of the horn section. Now, what are you going to do because I don’t know what to tell these guys to do because I don’t write or read music.” So he said, “Well, listen. I’ll tell you what to do.” We were sittin’ in the stairwell of his apartment in The Dakota and he had his guitar and he just sang the songs that he wanted horns on. He’d stop the part and he’d say, “Now right here, I want you to give me some Little Richard type stuff or some Fats Domino type stuff.” So I’d play a little line and he said, “That’s it. Let’s do that.”
So when we got to the studio the parts written out for the guys were the parts that John and I had already rehearsed so I looked like I knew what I was doing. I was so thankful for that. That’s just the kind of guy that John was to me. We had a lot of fun together living next door in England. I used to go over to his house. That’s when he was married to Yoko. Yoko wasn’t very fond of me ‘cause I was one of the Rolling Stones guys who did all the stuff that she was tryin’ to get John away from. John would slide over to my house and we would roll up a little hash and have a smoke. Our properties were joined by a garden wall. Yoko got wind of this and she didn’t care for that at all.
So one day John called me up and he said, “Bobby I’ve got an opportunity here for you to get back in Yoko’s good graces. She’s working on her album and she’s down to her last track and there’s a part on there where she might need a saxophonic contribution from you on.” So I grabbed my horn and went over there, walked in, and Yoko’s there. I’m listening to this music being played back. I don’t know if any of you have ever heard any of Yoko Ono’s music but it’s not what you call mainstream. It’s a very personal, very interpretive form of music. So I’m listening to this and there’s no lyrics and there’s no tempo and I can’t really tell what key this is in. And I look at John and I’m thinking, “Oh my God.” And he says, “Hey, you know, it’s up to you, pal.” So I look at Yoko and I say, “What do you want me to do?” She said, “Well, this song is about a pond in the north of England. Winter’s coming on. Summer’s gone. And there’s this lonely bullfrog sitting on a lilly pad with the cold north wind blowing up his backside. And all the other denizens of the pond are out of here. He’s the last guy there. And that’s what I want you to portray.” Well, you know, I’ve been asked to do a lot of things in my life. But being a bullfrog on a lilly pad with the wind blowing up my backside was one I had never come across before. So that’s a pretty tall order. I go into the studio and I get my horn together, get my reed wet — always wet your reed — and as I normally do I just closed all my keys and hit the lowest not on the horns, low B flat. Well, Yoko comes bursting into the studio. Here eyes were all lit up. She said, “That’s it, that’s it! That’s my frog!” And I said, “Hey, I do it all the time.” So that got be back in good graces and John and I could play together for a while.
S: So that song on Whatever Gets You Through The Night, that’s you? That’s one of the most memorable sax solos.
BK: I didn’t really know what to do. I said, “John, what do you want me to do on it?” And he said, “Well, play good. You have the very first note so make it count.”
S: Do you have to go back and listen to your music when you tour or do you just vamp? Because the audience expects those notes.
BK: We stick pretty true to the arrangements.
S: So you remember them all.
BK: I could play “Brown Sugar” laying down, standing up. Yes, I’m very familiar with it. You know, I’ve had 40 years to learn it.
S: Were you around when Brian Jones left?
BK: I was around, but not around the band. I wasn’t involved with them at that time. My first involvement with the band was Let It Bleed, and I think Brian played on one track on that album. I knew Brian.
S: I heard he was unhappy, one of the reasons being that he was such a blues purist. Where Mick and Keith were more like, “Let’s make money and write what we need to do.”
BK: Bulls**t. Yes, Brian was a blues man. And also I can’t give it a blanket bulls**t because I wasn’t privy to the conversation. All I’ve been privy to is private conversations about each other. Brian was a saxophone player, too. In fact, he was enthusiastic. He was a very good harmonica player and a very good guitar player from what I hear. I’ve never played with Brian.
S: Any thoughts on Clarence Clemens?
BK: Aw, man. I sure miss the guy. He was rock 'n' roll, rythym and blues. I admire him greatly. I knew Clarence. I didn’t know him really well, but we had several functions that we both played on together. The last time I saw Clarence he gave me about 15 or 20 neck straps. I asked him, “Why, Clarence?” He said, “Well, I just signed this merchandiser deal and I’ve got all these neck straps and I’m supposed to give them to musicians and you’re the only guy I’ve met so far that plays saxophone that I can give ‘em to.” So he gave me a whole bunch of neck straps of which I have several. Clarence was a great player. I’m sorry he’s gone.
S: You guys did a movie that wasn’t allowed to be released called C***s**ker Blues. And there’s a video running around on the Internet of you and Keith throwing a T.V. out of like the 15th story window. Can you tell me more about that movie, and why did y’all throw a T.V. out of the window?
BK: It is released, actually, now, but not in that cut. You know, man, of all the solos, of all the tracks, of all the people that I’ve played on or played with, that question is asked of me. I’ve have never regretted one moment more in my life as much as I have of when I threw that stupid television set over the balcony. ‘Cause that’s all I’m known for anymore. “Oh! You’re the guy who threw the T.V. set over the balcony with Keith Richards!” “Yeah, but I’ve also done —” “Oh no, that’s okay. You threw the T.V. set!” Yeah, that was a different coloretto. Robert Frank, who was a film maker documenting that, came in the room. Keith and I were laying down in the bed smoking a joint. He was on his bed I was on my bed. He said, “What are you guys doing, laying there? We need some rock 'n' roll action for this film! You guys are too casual. Do something rock 'n' roll.” Okay. Well there’s nothing in the room to do. There’s a T.V. set there. Keith and I were sitting there, there was nothing on T.V., so we just picked it up, unbolted it, and tossed it over the balcony, and laughed. You know, the whole process took maybe a minute. That one minute has been dogging me ever since then. Yeah, we threw the T.V. set out the window and it broke.
S: What would you rather be known for?
BK: Playing saxophone. Music things, not destroying furniture.
S: Did you ever work with Duane Allman?
BK: No, I never worked with Duane but I knew Duane.
S: What’s you biggest achievement as a saxophone player?
BK: Getting up this morning. That’s hard to say. Stayin’ alive! See, I don’t read music. I’ve never had any music instruction. I don’t know what’s gonna come out of that damn thing until I stick it in my face and blow. Really, my greatest achievement is stayin’ alive. I’ve played on good records and those are achievements. I’m very dependent on the people I’ve played with to draw inspiration from. I don’t just make all this stuff up myself. It’s gotta come from somewhere. Sometimes, most of the time. Sometimes I draw a blank. That’s when I have a sudden saxophonic malfunction and have to go home. It’s hard to say. Every moment is different when I’m in the studio. Some of this music is stuff you’ve never heard before. You get a new idea. It’s not a set routine that I can just pull out and go through the steps.
S: When you’re playing for yourself at home, what are some of the things you find yourself doing?
BK: Slow songs. Ballads. I like pretty songs. I think the saxophone’s a pretty instrument. It was one equated by somebody to being the closest instrument to the human voice. It was also outlawed by the Roman Catholic Church because of its serpentine shape. It’s true! The Pope said, “Saxophones, eh-eh! It looks like a snake!” I don’t know if he still feels that way, I haven’t had any conversations with the Pope.
S: Do you have a favorite horn?
BK: Yeah! My horn, Elmer. Elmer Selmer. It’s a Smart 6 Selmer Tenor Saxophone. It’s a custom made model. I used to fly between England and France quite a bit and the French were rather picky about me taking my horn on board with me. They wanted me to put it in the hold downstairs and I said, “No, man. The horn’s coming with me.” And they said, “Oh, Mizster Keys-uh, you must buy-uh, zee horn,” so I bought the horn a ticket. A first class ticket. It read the name Elmer. Elmer Selmer. He sat right there beside me. They came and served me food, “Yes! Elmer will have the beef bourguignon please and the red wine.” I made them serve my horn. My horn eats, I eat. We’re all happy.
S: Do you have anything else you want to leave them with?
BK: Leave you with a smile, man, that’s the best advice I can give. Keep on smiling. Love music. You do love music, don’t you? Give me an amen!
(Class responds: “AMEN!”)
