Journey Drummer Steve Smith
Drum! Magazine
It was a dark and stormy night -- really, it was! -- when drummer extraordinaire Steve Smith flew into Nashville for a short visit. It was, in the local argot, a frog strangler: torrents of rain, slashes of lightning and artillery-like blasts of thunder.
None of which permeated the warehouse-sized space deep within the VER (Video Equipment Rentals) complex, just southeast of town in Antioch. That’s because Smith was getting acquainted there with his new Sonor kit, which he would play for only the second time a week later, onstage in Madison Square Garden with Journey.
Below the room’s 27-foot ceiling, he was laying down lethal beats, blazing through fills in alternating matched and traditional grips, whipping across his toms and hammering complex patterns on his double kicks. It sounded in the room like a firestorm of rhythm -- nothing but drums alternating between straight-ahead grooves and virtuosic elaborations.
Much of the previous thirteen years he had devoted to recording and touring with Journey, but unlike most rock band warriors Smith also made time to pursue other projects. With Vital Information he dusted off his jazz chops on projects that ranged from fusion to standards. He studied raga and konnakol, a vocal percussion discipline, and applied what he learned for performances with Zakir Hussain and other Indian masters. And I’m not even going to try cataloging his session work and instructional videos.
This transcript omits a good amount of technical info that might not be relevant to non-drummers. But we touched on more eclectic topics too, which I’ve included and spiced with plenty of drum-friendly seasonings. Dig in.
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How has your on-the-road regimen changed over the years?
One thing is that I do yoga. A private teacher comes to our house when we’re in Oregon, three days a week.. I do a ninety-minute lesson/workout. I’ve been doing that for about four years. My wife Diane takes a ninety-minute lesson and I do too. That’s the beauty of a private lesson versus a class: You do exactly what you need personally. That’s been a really important part of my playing: the awareness I’m gaining of the anatomy of the body. What is the most beneficial way to sit, to stand, to move? I have had injuries over the years, which I’ve rehabilitated with a combination of yoga and physical therapy. But it requires vigilance to stay up with the yoga. That’s something I do every day in my hotel room. I have a yoga mat in my suitcase.
I’ve been fostering a habit of doing it after I practice at home and after gigs as well. I stretch out my hands because after playing a few hours they can get tight …
You’re pushing your palms flat onto the table.
You make contact with your first finger … Actually, that corresponds to the ball of your foot. That is where all the pressure goes. And I’ll do these exercises …
You’re on the ground with your hands pressed palm down against the floor, in opposite positions. So the yoga is a combination of …
… strengthening and flexibility. And you learn lots of things. I talk about this a little in that book, Pathways of Motion: how to align the middle of the knee toward the second toe with the heel directly under the knee. When I sit at the kit, I set up the pedals so my feet look just like this. If my hi-hat is here, I play it there. The mistake a lot of drummers make is that they set up the hi-hat so that it’s easy to play with the hand. Then the pedal ends up something like this, so when a person sits down, this is a recipe for an injury, if the knee is not over the heel.
Your knee is a little forward rather than directly …
It’s just like you would naturally sit in a chair, with the heel just under the knee. It’s all very natural, but you have to be aware of it. And this hip flexor has to be relaxed.
I don’t play the bass drum with the heel up and the beater on the head as a means of support. My means of support is the core: You stick the butt out a little bit and curve the spine out and pull in with the core. So this has flexibility, so I play like this and like this … heel and toe like that, but not this. Unfortunately, a lot of drummers play like this because they don’t take the time to develop this technique and that technique with the hi-hat foot. So with the hip flexors tight all the time, that can lead to hip and back problems. Seating-wise, my hip is a little bit higher than my knee. I learned that from physical therapy.
A lot of this came as a result of an injury that wasn’t bad enough to derail me completely. It just got me into physical therapy, where I was able to rehab it. Or it got me to a good teacher and they could see I wasn’t moving quite right or I should loosen my grip on the stick. I don’t have any of this tendonitis or tennis elbow or anything like that because I’ve fostered a very relaxed technique. I spent a lot of time with Freddie Gruber and took formal lessons with him. He transformed my technique. And my friend Jojo Mayer is one of the greatest technicians alive today. I had some issues with my left thumb, so I went to him and showed him I was holding the stick. I was getting good results, but he said, “What if you made just a couple of adjustments?” I did and it freed me up a little bit more than I already was.
Those adjustments involved your second and third fingers …
Well, I was holding the stick more or less with the second finger over the stick. So he said, “What if you release that finger and put on more pressure with the thumb?” It’s not like trying to play real loud; it’s getting a big sound. That released some of the tension right there and all of a sudden opened that up. It took me just a little while to gain just as much control. Now if I play like that for a little bit, it’s okay because I’m not playing that way exclusively. I have a few more options. That’s what got me to do more matched grip and open-handed stuff.
So alternating between traditional and matched grip is a healthy thing because you don’t get locked into one thing repeatedly.
I think so, yeah. Those options keep my hand from getting too tired out being in one position all the time.
Squeezing It All In
How do you budget your time?
Time management is a big consideration. It’s very difficult. I’m married and my kids are grown up, so I’m not juggling that at this point. That gives me a certain amount of freedom. My wife and I enjoy the lifestyle of being in New York and being in Oregon. We travel together. We love being together. There’s something very free about that.
When I’m in a project, I’m completely focused on it. I can’t split my time between it and other projects. I just put blinders on and do one thing at a time. For instance, in two weeks I’m going to go to Germany and play with Steps Ahead and the WBR Big Band. At this point in my inbox, I have ten to twelve Mike Abene arrangements of Steps Ahead tunes. I have three gigs coming up with Journey, the 13th at Madison Square Garden and the 15th and 16th in Connecticut and Pennsylvania. I won’t even open that file until the 17th and start to immerse myself in Steps Ahead.
It’s hard to overlap. Getting ready to do Journey, for this next week I’m going to be pretty much focused on Journey, though I have a mixing session for my new Vital Information record on Saturday. I did five songs last Saturday. Then I’ll be in New York for five more songs. Other than that, I’m going to continue to practice the Journey stuff because when we get onstage at Madison Square Garden there’s no rehearsal — we just hit. When I was doing the drum solo record, that’s all I did for a week. And now I just did four days in the studio to do the Vital Information record.
That’s the way it works for me. If I try to do too much, it’s just total overload.
How different are Steve Smith the Journey, Vital Information and Steps Ahead drummers?
They’re different angles of the same guy. For instance, if Mike Stern or Hiromi call me for a gig and I don’t know the music, I write these very detailed charts. I get the record. Mike has a number of charts, but his are obsolete because he plays live so much that the music has evolved, so you need to learn Mike’s tunes from a live tape. Hiromi’s charts are well written. So I don’t need to write a whole chart; I just need to write bits and pieces of Simon Phillips’s drum parts so I can learn exactly what he played for certain sections. But I take the time to write the charts.
When it came time to do the Journey gig, I did the same process because I didn’t really remember the songs. I’d played those songs a lot but it’s been 32 years and unless you interact a lot with the material …
The similarity is that I do the same kind of preparation. The difference between the gigs has to do with the conception of the drumming, of what the gig requires. Of course there are lots of similarities, but each gig is different from one another.
The Jazz Trane
Rock is about being the foundation of the groove. Jazz is about creating more interactively.
In general, yes. But I’m the foundation in all situations, jazz or rock. The difference with the jazz situation is that there’s a demand to interact with the other musicians. It’s about responding or not responding. With the rock concept, I still listen to everything but the focus is more on playing the actual drum groove. The drum part is an essential part of the composition, so my part needs to be performed very close to the way it was recorded on the album. I can’t leave that to interact with a solo except for sometimes.
Now, jazz/rock is very different from jazz. Let’s look at the Keith Jarrett Trio, with Jack DeJohnette and Gary Peacock. They’re playing standards. Jack DeJohnette isn’t playing any particular beat. He’s playing a time feel. He’s responding to what’s going on around him, playing the form of the tune but responding to what the other two players are doing. The way they play standards is in some ways the height of abstraction still within form. It’s beautiful. It’s almost unparalleled, the way that that group plays.
Then there’s everything in between that and a straight rock gig. There are rock gigs that are much more structured than Journey, like Rush or some bands that play everything literally note for note. I don’t play things note for note. I allow myself some freedom but I pay close attention to the original. A Mike Stern tune may have a particular beat that makes the song work, but then there’s freedom that you can come back from to the beat. So it’s like a rock gig in a way. Even a Hiromi tune might have an exact beat. It’s not as free as the Keith Jarrett thing. There will be parts of the arrangement where that freedom exists but then you come back to the composition. That’s what makes that jazz/rock instead of straight-ahead jazz. I’m comfortable with all those variables and with free jazz from playing with Wadada Leo Smith and different groups that are very free. I just adjust myself to what’s right for that particular group.
And particular people have different needs than others. For instance, Mike Stern is such a swinger. He’s super swinging. So the time feel always has to have a lot of swing. Mike enjoys very clear drumming where I outline the form. If I’m playing a blues, he can feel the top of the form come around and play with that. I toured with Dave Liebman and he doesn’t want that. He wants me to play way over the bar lines, way over the form. And he says, “Don’t worry about me. If I get lost, it’s on me. I’ll keep playing until I figure out where I am.” So some people in the jazz world like a little more structure than others.
Hiromi is very self-contained. I’ve never known her to get lost on anything that we’ve ever done, even in odd times where we’re playing way over the bar line. You have to take note of that when you’re playing with people and make adjustments on how far you go or where you hold yourself back with certain soloists.
With Journey, the concept is to make the song sound very wide and fat and big. When you have drums that sound that big, you can’t play a lot of fast notes because they start to jumble up. So I adjust myself to allow the toms to have full note values. We can hear the entire note and then it’s time for the next note. And then we leave some space and you hear the next note. That adds drama and size. We love that drama and we want that size in the music.
You probably turn down gigs every now and then.
I turn down a lot of gigs.
What do you need to know before you accept a gig?
When I hear their music and it does something special, when the music moves me. It has to be interesting to me, so that I think the music will be rewarding to play and worth the time put in to learn it. Sometimes people ask me to play. They send me the music. It sounds hard and interesting but I don’t really want to put in the time to learn it because I don’t resonate with it. It doesn’t feel like it will warrant all the world. But then there are other people and when I listen to their music, I go, “Yeah, I really want to learn those tunes and play that music. It’s gonna take me a couple of weeks or even a month, a little bit every day, to learn this music. But I feel like it’ll be worth it.
Then when I do the gig and the gig is over, I’ve expanded my musicianship. If it’s just to do the gig, then no. At this point, I’ve been fortunate enough with choice gigs and gigs that pay well that I don’t need to take everything. So stuff that I don’t feel will ultimately be that rewarding. Maybe I’d recommend someone who feels like they’d be a good fit for this music.
With all the jazz and fusion experience you have, what was challenging about playing with Journey?
We have to go back two steps before Journey to really answer that question. The first step is Jean-Luc Ponty. I was a student at Berklee College of Music in Boston from ’72 to ’76. I left Berklee in the middle of my seventh semester to go on tour with Jean-Luc. It was a cattle call but I got the gig. I was playing big band, jazz, wedding bands and some local pop/R&B stuff. Fusion was on the radar — Lenny White, Billy Cobham, Narada Michael Walden. But it really hadn’t trickled down to the student body at Berklee. It was still so new that the concept we were playing with was more like Miles from the ‘60s with Tony and Coltrane and the ECM sound, with Gary Burton being an influential person at Berklee. We were listening to Eberhard Weber.
When I joined Jean-Luc, his stuff was coming out of my audition. I was originally playing it on a jazz kit. He asked me to get a double-bass, rock kit, which I did. That was fun. I was 22 years old. We started in clubs. He took off fast and soon we were loud, powerhouse playing in theaters with 1,000 to 1,500 seats.
After I left Jean-Luc I had an opportunity to play with Ronnie Montrose, who was on an instrumental tour with a record called Open Fire. That was somewhat similar to a Jeff Beck approach: He needed a fusion rock king of drummer. I had never played with a professional rocker, so that sounded like a fun gig and I took it. We were the opening act for Journey. I had never heard of Journey before, but I saw them every night as we did three months together. That’s where I got to know the guys in the group and the music. They were the headliners, but we were playing the same 1,500-seat venues I’d played with Ponty. Van Halen was the opening act. It was their first tour ever.
That was the first part of 1978. But in September they asked me to join Journey. The guys in the band liked what they heard me play with Ronnie Montrose. They liked the energy and the fact that I played rock fusion but still had some kind of an R&B/U.S. groove to them. I was impressed with their musicianship, with their tunes, with Neal Schon and with Steve Perry, who was an incredible singer. I had never really worked with a great singer before. I was playing mainly instrumental music. So that was new. It seemed like that would be a rewarding experience. It’s not like they were super-popular. They were just at the beginning of their popularity. And I was getting paid $400 a week with Ronnie Montrose and I think $350 a week with Journey— so I took a cut in pay [laughs]!. But it just seemed like a fun thing to do. And they invited me to be a band member, which in the initial years meant that you inherited the million-dollar debt that they were in for tour [unintelligible] and the promise of making money someday. That wasn’t the factor as much as that I liked the music.
Also, being a band member, it was my first time not being a sideman. Being a band member is a very different experience from being a sideman. Up until that point, I had only ever experienced being a sideman, which means, “Here’s the chart.”
When you got into Journey, how did you deal with the rock concert crowd response?
I had to learn to control my playing so it didn’t over-excite me to the point that I pushed myself too hard. When I first experienced it, it was very exciting, to the point where it caused me to hit too hard and wear myself out too soon. I had to learn how to pace myself and allow it to be and stay relaxed and centered. I think it took me over a year to really find the right balance for that.
You’re saying it’s great to play with them again without actually being a member again. Does this make the energy of playing with the band different in any way?
No. I wanted to be clear about what we’re doing. I left Journey in 1985. We got back together in ’96 and ’97 to do a record. The band continued after that but I decided I am more interested in my own career than in being a band member with Journey or really any other band. It wasn’t that Steve Perry was no longer in the band. It was just the fact that I wanted to be a free agent, to do my own music and to pick and choose my schedule as I wanted without being part of an organization that has a lot to say about your schedule for the year. I like that autonomy. It feels great.
Over the years I have been approached to come back to Journey and join the band again. I've always said no. But a couple of years ago I talked to the management about doing just one summer tour. They thought that wouldn’t really work out because it’s all or nothing: You’re either in the band or you're not. But then last June a situation came up where Dean was no longer in the group. The drum seat was open. So they called me to fill in. I was on tour in Europe and I said, “Well, no, because I’m booked throughout 2015. But maybe we can talk about next year now.” We discussed that and came to an agreement. They said, “We tour in two-year cycles. If you do 2016, would you be interested in also doing 2017?” “OK, let’s do that. Give me the dates so I can book around that.”
“It’s not in my nature anymore to be a member of an ongoing group.”
That’s comfortable for me because it’s got a beginning, a middle and an end, and then I’ll continue with my autonomous life. I’ll dedicate my energy to the tour. I’m going to give it 100 percent. It’ll be fun. But it’s not in my nature anymore to be a member of an ongoing group. It was fun in my twenties, but now that I’m in my sixties I’m very happy being an individual artist and sideman and clinician and all the other things.
You’re off with Santana in April and with the Doobie Brothers and Dave Mason in May. Then in September you’re doing Coltrane Revisited.
That’s at Birdland with Steve Kuhn.
He played with Coltrane himself.
Right. I did a week with him last year. What’s not on the calendar is that then I go to Japan with Steps Ahead: Randy Brecker and Mike Manieri and Bill Evans and Tom Kennedy for a weekend at the Blue Note in Tokyo. And then Bobby Shue and the Buddy Rich Alumni are after that. It’s kind of crazy.
Do you shift between Elvin and Buddy states of mind on those two gigs?
Exactly. I get to switch gears and play all these different styles. Like I said before, to really immerse yourself in these styles is very rewarding. You can really get something from it. So when I play at Birdland with that group, I have an 18” bass drum, two floors, three ride cymbals, one rack and a hi-hat. It’s maybe a little more than Elvin had when he was with Trane, but it was more like what Elvin had with his own groups. And we play acoustically: There are no mics on the drums. There’s upright bass and acoustic piano, with Eric Alexander on sax.
Then when we do the Buddy Rich music, that’s very much at home for me because big-band was my first processional concept. i don’t try to play it like Buddy played it, but I can play that music and I can solo. When Bobby Shue called me to do the gig, he wasn’t that familiar with my playing. I’d been recommended by Greg Bissonette because he called Greg originally — Greg’s a really good big-band drummer. But he couldn’t make it, so he recommended me. Bobby said, “Can you play an extended solo?” And I said, “Yeah! You won’t be disappointed [laughs]!” So we did a gig in Albuquerque and he was like, “OK, you’ve got the gig.” I end up doing three or four extended solos each night with that group. We usually do two sets with “West Side Story,” “Channel One Suite,” “Time Check,” “Love For Sale.” I had fun doing those solos. That’s not a stretch for me. I do solos with my own band and with Mike Stern.
Playing with Hiromi, as the drummer you’re the second soloist in that group. She takes the majority of the solos but in almost every song there’s a drum solo.
Is that a trio?
Yes. And Anthony takes only a couple of solos. But the drummer solos a lot; it’s written into the composition. So I’m really comfortable with soloing. I enjoy doing a lot of different kinds of soloing.
But you have to think idiomatically. You’re not going to solo with the Coltrane group as you would with the Buddy Rich group.
It’s a little bit different but not so different. For instance, on YouTube you can see me playing “Mr. P.C.” with the Coltrane group last year. When I solo, I play that tempo and I play blues form. Everything is in a 12-bar form. If I’m soloing on “Time Check” with the Buddy Rich group, it doesn’t need to be in a particular form because it’s at the end of the tune. But I keep it in time and tempo.
The difference is more in the venue. When I play at Birdland, I’m playing in a smaller room with a smaller kit. I’ll keep it in the context of not being too grandiose. It’ll be appropriate for that room and that audience. But when we played with Bobby Shue with the Buddy Rich Alumni Big Band, we played in theaters with 1,500 or 2,000 seats. So my solo needs to be a little bigger. And it’s Buddy Rich, as far as the charts, so I’ll put the pedal to the metal a little bit more and make it more exciting.
You just had a gallery exhibit in New York. Where did you get the idea of doing this work based on drumming motions?
The idea came from Scene Four (www.scenefour.com). It’s Ravi Dosaj and Cory Danziger. Those two guys contacted me to see if I was interested in doing it. I guess they came up with the concept. They had done one or two with some other drummer — I can’t remember who it was. But since then they’ve done it with a few other drummers including Dave Weckl and Carl Palmer and Bill Lord from Black Sabbath and Dave Lombardo. Chad Smith just did one: He called me and said, “Hey, how do I get in on this [laughs]?”
When they called me and told me about it, it sounded interesting to me because I was already practicing with lighted drum sticks. A long time ago I put a video on YouTube called “Steve Smith Practicing at Home.” It shows me practicing in a variety of genres and on a couple of different kits. Vic Firth sent me these light sticks that they made and I just started playing with them in the dark one night in front of a mirror. They were really great for examining my motion. You could really see how you’re moving in between the notes. So I started practicing with these light sticks. And when they asked me to do it, I had a lot of ideas right away of what I wanted to do and how to direct the camera because I was making shapes in the mirror with these things and practicing different patterns and rudiments and time feels.
We rented a room at S.I.R. in Los Angeles, set up the drums, had a photographer there. Then we shut out the lights. I play something and he takes about a 15-second time-lapse exposure. Then all of these cool shapes occur and we pick the best ones and put them on a canvas. It’s a very interesting art endeavor.
What did you learn about your performance from this regimen?
That really has to do with the space between the notes and pathways of motion.
You did write that “we don’t hear the motions made in the spaces between the notes as opposed to shakers or tambourines.”
The entire motion has to be in time with a shaker. With a drumstick, you hear only half of it. A lot of drummers are not very conscious of what happens in that space. But just like a shaker or a tambourine, the entire motion is important to have a nice, smooth, grooving set of impacts. You can see it clearly with the light sticks. If I’m playing kind of a swing feel, I’m filling the space, the time in between each beat. You’re moving a particular amount of space and the space in the time is equal. That quarter-note that you hear is going to be consistent, just like a metronome that goes like that. It has to fill the same amount of space each time. Some people may move straight up and down. Other people may move in a circular way.
A lot of drummers talk about stick heights relating to dynamics, but I only circumstantially ascribe to that perspective. It’s more like the space in between has to fill a certain amount of space for the flow to exist rather than be regimented, like “I only want to move this far away” and get some kind of pulse happening.
Why is it important to continue to play standards even in challenging settings?
Part of it is the fact that I don’t have a whole lot of time to devote to writing music with Vital Information. The new band is called Vital Information - NYC Edition. So when we get together, sometimes the easiest thing to do is to put our spin on a standard because we all know it but then we get to do something fun to it. Given more time, we could write an entire record of original music. But it’s expensive to get together and spend time writing music. So on the last couple of records, we do a mix of original tunes and standards. It’s not unlike the Alfred Lion approach of Blue Note Records. A lot of his records were like, “OK, let’s have three original tunes and four standards.” But we still put in some original music, like that tune in 13: The guitar player, the bass player and I wrote that together. The one called “Open Dialogue” is more like an improvisation that happened live on gigs. I got together with George Brooks and we wrote that one. In a perfect world, I probably would have done 100 percent originals but I wanted to get something done.
“People don’t always know you when you play in these clubs, but they’ll give you a chance.”
The other thing is that people know those tunes. For instance, the last tour we did with Vital Information was last fall. We played in Europe to a pretty sophisticated jazz audience. I don’t think they always like to hear tunes they don’t know. They enjoy hearing tunes that they know. We played a week at this jazz club in Bern, Switzerland, called Marians Jazzroom [stet]. It’s one of my favorite places to play. When we play “I Love You,” the clientele applauds because they know the tune. Then we’ll do an original and then we’ll play “Mr. P.C.” So it works live. People don’t always know you when you play in these clubs, but they’ll give you a chance. And if they hear some familiar material, it’s only a plus.
Doing standards also gives you a different means to be creative than doing something without a familiar structure.
That’s an interesting perspective. You’re right because if you’re playing a familiar tune, people can hear your musicianship … Personally, I love the standards. Take as an example the Keith Jarrett Trio or Brad Mehldau. And Mike Stern, for that matter; he loves to play standards. We play a lot of standards when we go on tour, though most of the time these days he writes a new head but we’re still playing “All The Things You Are.”
What time signature was “Cherokee” by Vital Information - NYC Edition?
It was 8 and 7, so it’s in 15/8. And the bridge is in 7. We had been playing “Cherokee” like that. We did a tour, and I said, “Look, I’ve got an idea for ‘Cherokee.’ Let’s try this and see if it works.” And everyone liked it. It was fun and kind of challenging. And it fits that tune well. You can hear the melody. You don’t have to change anything except to take off one beat.
With “Mr. P.C.,” I was playing an arrangement very much like that on that Coltrane gig. But I put my own spin on it. And then “I Love You” is a great tune. It’s really fun to play. But let’s rock out the intro.
I love the intro, with just you on brushes and the guitar.
I’ll spend time thinking of how to do this in a way that’s a little different. That one starts with just brushes and guitar but it ends as a full-on [unintelligible] shuffle, so we do our thing to it.
Lights, Camera … Drums!
Final question: Your thoughts on the two big drum movies of the past couple years, “Birdman” and “Whiplash.”
Well, Birdman is innovative. I like the movie. I love the soundtrack. In fact, I listen a lot to the soundtrack. Antonio Sanchez’s drumming is fantastic. And it’s inspirational. It definitely encouraged me to do that solo drumming record because his drumming could stand alone as a listening experience, very much like a Jack DeJohnette album called Pictures. It’s essentially a drum solo record, though John Abercrombie is on some of it. That’s one of my favorite solo drum records. Then when Antonio [Sánchez]came out with that soundtrack, I loved it. And it was really effective in the movie.
Whiplash, on the other hand, was more like a military experience, like the Marines or something. It wasn’t anything I could relate to realistically. I never encountered anyone that abusive. I didn’t think the stories he told were true. I don’t think it was constructive in any way. And it was painful to watch the actor try to play the drums. He didn’t know how to hold the sticks or move. And his practice technique would result only in more tension. He tried to play as fast as he could and as tight as he could. It’s a poor example of how to improve as a drummer. It was total fiction that didn’t relate at all to my experience of life as a drummer.
But the actual Hank Levy chart for Whiplash was cool. I actually worked personally with Hank Levy, the composer of that piece. When I was 18 years old, I went to a Stan Kenton camp. Hank was one of the instructors. He taught in Towson, Maryland. You auditioned and then they put all these bands together. Well,, I was in the Hank Levy Band, which played only odd time signatures. All the tunes he wrote for Stan Kenton were odd-time tunes, like “Whiplash,” which was in 7. I wish I knew who played on the soundtrack because he did a great job. I’ve tried to find out but there’s no credit of who actually played on that track.
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