I’m the old guy in the band, so here's a history lesson:
I guess I became captivated by the sound of a distorted power-fifth chord as soon as
it became a popular part of rock music, so I bought a guitar and made music a
permanent part of my life.
For well over a decade, I played rhythm guitar and sang occasional backup vocals,
and it was enough to satisfy me. I played with some awesome people that had a lot
more talent than me, and I didn’t mind. It was great to be part of something bigger
than the sum of its parts. I had a basic style I was happy with, and I tinkered with a lot
of the old analog effects and technology. It was fun. It was all about the music, and
the music was good.
Then, for no apparent reason, I quit playing for a while.
While I was out of it, music grew more technical, everybody began playing really fast,
singers were screaming their brains out, technology gave everybody more amp gain
than they knew what to do with, and everybody had more and more effects.
Wow. The Eighties were awesome. I just had to get back into music.
Looking back, I never had a chance in the Eighties. Sure, I had fun playing a mix of
newer and older stuff. Problem was nobody wanted to hear it. To get anywhere, you
had to be competitive. You had to be the best at something… Anything.
I watched as the musicians I normally would have admired became ruthless, nasty,
horrible, egotistical bastards that tried to bring everyone else down to build
themselves up. I went out of my way to lend my time, my equipment, my electronics
expertise, and my experience to musicians that sorely needed it, only to be stabbed in
the back over and over. I was doomed…
Then the Nineties hit, and everybody was cast aside. Nobody wanted to hear
massive, expansive, bombastic, hard, fast, complicated and precise music anymore.
Fine!
All of a sudden, people were playing the kind of stuff I was playing years ago (minus
the pop influence). You didn’t have to play a zillion notes per second or scream until
you could taste your own gonads. It was time to ditch the singer and the lead
guitarist, and go play!
I had some of the best times of my life and played the most insanely fun gigs during
those days. We took some old songs and made them our own. We wrote everything
from silly country songs to punk, to grunge, and we had fun. And the music was good
again.
We’d still hear a little criticism from time to time from the guys that used to be popular,
and all we could do was say, “What have you done lately that you think is better,
Almighty Fretmaster?” And we let them choke on their notes. All their talent was
going to waste because nobody wanted to hear it. What the world wanted was catchy
hooks, big chords, and thoughtful lyrics. I was glad to be part of it, but I had mixed
emotions.
I really wanted the complexity and intensity of the Eighties, but without the competitive
attitudes and without the empty lyrics.
Eventually, rock music began taking on elements from rap and hip-hop, or taking on
growly undertones like punk on Quaaludes, and I wanted to get back out of it, but
something stopped me…
I was going to help some guys record some of their legacy material, but their lazy
bass player never showed up, so I filled in on bass after almost 30 years on guitar.
Then we worked on a project to write music for somebody else, and we found out we
worked really well together. When the project was done, we knew we’d stumbled onto
something bigger than the sum of its parts, especially when we listened to the tracks
without the vocals.
Enter Axofire:
So, we started writing, and improving, and practicing, and improving some more, and
writing some more. We ditched the vocals and tried different lineups. We went back
to playing the music we love best, the hard, fast, complicated, technical stuff, but with
a difference. No bitching. Sure, there are other musicians out there that are better in
a myriad of different ways, but we just don’t care. We haven’t had any clash of egos.
We know of some other musicians that have said some unkind things, but they haven’
t even heard us. We don’t sink to that level.
To gauge our progress, we’d go out and play a single gig at America’s biggest
nightclub, at the Battle of the Bands just to shock ourselves with a bit of harsh reality.
We had no following. Nobody knew who we were. Even our second time out, I was
afraid I’d be pelted with beer bongs just for showing up on stage at my age. But when
we had difficulty getting off of the stage due to the number of people wanting to buy
CDs, and I ended up capturing the attention of a Playboy Playmate for the remainder
of the evening, we figured we just might be onto something good!
I sure wish we had some CDs to sell that night. We’ve got a lot of things recorded,
So, when you hear one of our tracks on the web, remember it’s just a preview. The
best is yet to come!
-Ken Daniels
I guess I became captivated by the sound of a distorted power-fifth chord as soon as
it became a popular part of rock music, so I bought a guitar and made music a
permanent part of my life.
For well over a decade, I played rhythm guitar and sang occasional backup vocals,
and it was enough to satisfy me. I played with some awesome people that had a lot
more talent than me, and I didn’t mind. It was great to be part of something bigger
than the sum of its parts. I had a basic style I was happy with, and I tinkered with a lot
of the old analog effects and technology. It was fun. It was all about the music, and
the music was good.
Then, for no apparent reason, I quit playing for a while.
While I was out of it, music grew more technical, everybody began playing really fast,
singers were screaming their brains out, technology gave everybody more amp gain
than they knew what to do with, and everybody had more and more effects.
Wow. The Eighties were awesome. I just had to get back into music.
Looking back, I never had a chance in the Eighties. Sure, I had fun playing a mix of
newer and older stuff. Problem was nobody wanted to hear it. To get anywhere, you
had to be competitive. You had to be the best at something… Anything.
I watched as the musicians I normally would have admired became ruthless, nasty,
horrible, egotistical bastards that tried to bring everyone else down to build
themselves up. I went out of my way to lend my time, my equipment, my electronics
expertise, and my experience to musicians that sorely needed it, only to be stabbed in
the back over and over. I was doomed…
Then the Nineties hit, and everybody was cast aside. Nobody wanted to hear
massive, expansive, bombastic, hard, fast, complicated and precise music anymore.
Fine!
All of a sudden, people were playing the kind of stuff I was playing years ago (minus
the pop influence). You didn’t have to play a zillion notes per second or scream until
you could taste your own gonads. It was time to ditch the singer and the lead
guitarist, and go play!
I had some of the best times of my life and played the most insanely fun gigs during
those days. We took some old songs and made them our own. We wrote everything
from silly country songs to punk, to grunge, and we had fun. And the music was good
again.
We’d still hear a little criticism from time to time from the guys that used to be popular,
and all we could do was say, “What have you done lately that you think is better,
Almighty Fretmaster?” And we let them choke on their notes. All their talent was
going to waste because nobody wanted to hear it. What the world wanted was catchy
hooks, big chords, and thoughtful lyrics. I was glad to be part of it, but I had mixed
emotions.
I really wanted the complexity and intensity of the Eighties, but without the competitive
attitudes and without the empty lyrics.
Eventually, rock music began taking on elements from rap and hip-hop, or taking on
growly undertones like punk on Quaaludes, and I wanted to get back out of it, but
something stopped me…
I was going to help some guys record some of their legacy material, but their lazy
bass player never showed up, so I filled in on bass after almost 30 years on guitar.
Then we worked on a project to write music for somebody else, and we found out we
worked really well together. When the project was done, we knew we’d stumbled onto
something bigger than the sum of its parts, especially when we listened to the tracks
without the vocals.
Enter Axofire:
So, we started writing, and improving, and practicing, and improving some more, and
writing some more. We ditched the vocals and tried different lineups. We went back
to playing the music we love best, the hard, fast, complicated, technical stuff, but with
a difference. No bitching. Sure, there are other musicians out there that are better in
a myriad of different ways, but we just don’t care. We haven’t had any clash of egos.
We know of some other musicians that have said some unkind things, but they haven’
t even heard us. We don’t sink to that level.
To gauge our progress, we’d go out and play a single gig at America’s biggest
nightclub, at the Battle of the Bands just to shock ourselves with a bit of harsh reality.
We had no following. Nobody knew who we were. Even our second time out, I was
afraid I’d be pelted with beer bongs just for showing up on stage at my age. But when
we had difficulty getting off of the stage due to the number of people wanting to buy
CDs, and I ended up capturing the attention of a Playboy Playmate for the remainder
of the evening, we figured we just might be onto something good!
I sure wish we had some CDs to sell that night. We’ve got a lot of things recorded,
So, when you hear one of our tracks on the web, remember it’s just a preview. The
best is yet to come!
-Ken Daniels
