Читать книгу Through the Eye of the Tiger - Jim Peterik - Страница 8

Foreword

I FIRST MET Jim Peterik in 1968, or was it ’69, hmmmmm…

The roads are windswept and slippery as our tour bus creeps up I-57 headed for a snowbound Chicago. At 4 a.m. I am eyes open in the back lounge, iPad in hand, rummaging through my weary head for the exact memory.

… I believe it may have actually been 1968, after an Ides of March show at The Blue Village teen club in Westmont, Illinois, one of many psychedelic-themed live music spots which were popping up all over Chicagoland at that time. Through the black-lit haze, in a moment certainly tattooed on Jimmy’s brain, some pimply-chinned high school kid walked up to him as he was packing up his guitar, and said, “Hey man, I’m in a band too, and I think ‘You Wouldn’t Listen’ is a really good song.” Jim Peterik was already a local rock star by then and could have easily blown me off … but he didn’t. Since that fateful night I have gone on to do everything from booking Jimmy and The Ides at Brother Rice High School’s prom in 1969, to forging a long-term friendship while co-writing and recording a number of Peterik/Cronin songs with my band, REO Speedwagon.

For as long as I have known him, Jimmy has always been a stand-up guy, prolifically talented, smart, quirky, naturally funny, a fair and honest collaborator, and a loyal friend. We share the same Midwest work ethic, a love and respect for songs and their creation, as well as an undying belief that music is our salvation. We both still feel the thrill when that final word of a new song magically travels from pen to notebook, when that perfect master mix explodes from the studio monitors, when at last you hear your record on the radio so you pull off to the side of the road, roll down the windows, crank it up full blast, and dig the moment!

Jim has largely flown under the global rock radar. He remains as underrated a singer and guitar player as he is well respected by his songwriting peers and beloved by his fans. He knows everything there is to know about writing a hit song and has a whole bunch of ’em under his silver-studded leather belt to prove it. He is constantly scribbling notes or dictating song ideas into one handheld device or another, totally committed to his craft. When together we have stumbled upon that precise lyric line or unique chord progression we are searching for, his whole being lights up with a love of the music-making process … a rarity in this digital age.

Jim possesses a personality that is built for artistic success … a delicate balance of insecurity and self-confidence, of strength and vulnerability, of unstoppable drive and love of the journey. He has chosen the life of both professional musician and devoted family man, and has figured out how to succeed at both. I want to know his secret.

All that having been said, it is my belief that most, if not all, creative people have a darker inner world from which their art springs. My guess is that by the time we finish reading this book, you and I will also have gotten a glimpse into that part of Jimbo’s life, as that is where a lot of the cool stuff happens. Songwriting is more than an art and a craft. It is where songwriters go to give form to our scariest feelings, to seek answers that elude us in real life, and for help expressing our anger, fear, and self-doubt in a functional way. In other words, it’s where we go to rock!

Kevin Cronin and me.

I know him pretty well, but I want to find out more about where Jim goes to rock. I want to understand how it all got started for young Jimmy Peterik of Berwyn, Illinois, how he has kept it going strong over a nearly fifty-year span, and most incredibly, how he got his beautiful wife Karen into that Vehicle!

So here we are, at a time in most guys’ careers when they are cashing out and looking into retirement plans; Jimbo is dyeing his hair purple, writing a book, and still schmoozing up a storm! Some might think he’s a nut, and maybe he is, but that is why we are such kindred spirits and why I love the guy like I do.

rock on brother … kc