"To thine own self be true." Yes, it's an old expression that sounds kind of corny, but it's the moral of our story. It's about the journey of a man whose life's passion was stirred as a youngster, whose dreams were realized in his twenties, and whose identity was challenged in this thirties. Mostly, though, it's about the rekindling and rediscovery of dreams - and the courage it takes to admit to self-deception.
On October 18, 1989, Max Weinberg received a phone call that not only altered his employment status, but changed his life. Weinberg had worked for fifteen years with Bruce Springsteen, during which time they reached the heights of superstardom together. It had been everything Weinberg had dreamed of as a kid growing up in New Jersey. By the time he was eight, Max felt a connection with the drums that would turn into an integral component of his personality and his future.

After the standard school and private lessons, early bands, gigs at dances, club work, and lots and lots of one-nighters, Max hooked up with a fledgling Springsteen. Being a bandmember and playing music that he believed in had been Max's goal. Eventually he would record a classic body of work with Springsteen and take great pride in being part of the team that was The E Street Band.

By the end of Weinberg's fifteen-year position, though, it was clear that this drummer had become so associated with Springsteen - even to himself - that when the call came that disbanded The E Street Band, it plunged him head-on into a crisis. Catharsis usually follows turbulence, and so it's been for Weinberg, whose turmoil precipitated a reawakening and reaffirmation of who he is at his very core. It steered him to the ideal situation: playing music and being able to be home for his family - by leading The Max Weinberg Seven, Conan O'Brien's Late Night band.

"F. Scott Fitzgerald was wrong when he said there are no second acts in American lives, because I have certainly enjoyed my second act," Weinberg says. "Everything I did before the band broke up, and after the band broke up, led me to that second act." And Thomas Wolfe said, "You can't go home again," but now that Weinberg is back with Bruce on a year-long international tour, maybe that expression doesn't ring true either. "I don't think you can go home," Max insists, though. "But you can revisit it as the person you've grown up to be." We caught up with Max on tour with Springsteen, revisiting his former self, but bringing to it his last ten years of experience.

MD: What was it like the moment you got the phone call telling you The E Street Band was disbanding?

MW: It was a shock, but not a surprise. Things had been changing for a while in terms of the band. We had done the Tunnel Of Love project, which was Bruce's solo album, and then we went on tour to accompany him. Although it was great fun and ended up with the Amnesty International tour, it felt at the time like something was winding up, so I made plans to go back to Seton Hall University. I had dropped out with twenty-one credits to go in the fall of '74, when I met Bruce. When I got off tour in October of '88, I contacted the school. It was a year before the band broke up. To my surprise, they'd kept my records open. I had a very supportive music professor, Dr. William Burns, who shepherded me through the process of reapplying to Seton Hall to finish my twenty-one remaining credits. My thought was that I'd get a law degree, which is what I was going to do when I met Bruce in '74. When I got that call on October 18, 1989, I'd already been in school for six months - even made the dean's list with a 4.0, thanks to my hard work and the hard work of my wife, Becky. She's a school teacher and she really helped me focus. I had already started my second semester at Seton Hall when I got the phone call. That call and time period has been widely misreported through the years. Bruce's decision was put to me in the most supportive, amicable, and loving way you can imagine. It had to do less with me and anybody else than it did with what he, as an artist, wanted to do with this particular period of his life. I understood that, as difficult as it was.

MD: Did Bruce actually make the call?

MW: Of course.

MD: In lots of situations it's the manager who makes phone calls like that, which makes it even more hurtful for the musician.

MW: Bruce was as supportive as he could be: "Come out to my house, let's talk about this." He eased all of us through that transition and said, "I know this is easier for me than it is for you." I’ll never forget, I was sitting on his lawn out here in LA, telling him about my decision to go to law school. He never tried to talk me out of it, but he said, "Don't stop drumming, whatever else you do." And through the whole period, when we didn't play together from '89 until recently, he's been the greatest, most supportive friend one could have, always staying in touch.

MD: How did you get the Conan gig?

MW: My wife and I went to a party in New York and we were going to stay at a hotel on 54th Street. I had the guy drop us off at 55th Street because I wanted to get something at a deli. We were coming out of the deli and standing on the corner of 54th and 7th Avenue was Conan O'Brien. I said to Becky, "That's Conan O'Brien standing on the corner," and she said, "Who is Conan O'Brien?" I said, "He's the guy who's replacing Letterman on NBC." I had seen him when they announced him on The Tonight Show, so I recognized him, although nobody really knew him yet. He was standing on the corner, waiting for the light to change. I was a little hesitant to go up to him at first, but Becky said, "Go say hello." The light changed, and before he stepped off the curb, I said, "Conan." He turned around and looked at me. I said, "Max Weinberg from The E Street Band," and he seemed to recognize me in that context. I said, "Congratulations on the show, I saw you on The Tonight Show and it's a great opportunity." Meanwhile, the light had changed and he hadn't moved. I said, "What are you doing for music?" He said, "We have some ideas. Why? Do you have any ideas?" And it was like a light bulb going off in my head. I said, "Do I have any ideas? I have a million ideas - I'd love to tell you about them." He told me who to contact and I wrote a letter. Soon after I got a phone call from Conan's people. They wanted to meet me. So I went to New York and met with the producer, Jeff Ross, Conan, and Jim Pitt, the music booker. And then in walked the original co-producer and head writer, Robert Smigel, who came over to me immediately and said, "I have to tell you, I'm a big fan," which was great to hear! My first idea for the music of the show was based on a record I had produced for the label I worked for called Killer Joe, which was kind of a jump blues, oldies rock kind of record. I brought a copy of it to the meeting. I told them about some of my ideas, yet I was completely shooting from the hip because I really didn't know what the job entailed. But I did say something that I found out later really impressed Conan. I was talking mainly about my experiences with Bruce and The E Street Band, and one thing Bruce used to say was that we took our fun very seriously. That struck a chord with Conan, because though his show would be about fun and comedy, it had to be taken seriously. But the meeting ended with them saying they would get back to me.

Then during the first week of August I got a call from Jim Pitt. He said, "We really enjoyed meeting with you. Now we'd like to hear the band." I said to myself, "Hear the band?" I never told them I had a band, I had only said I had a really good idea for a band. So I said, "When?" This was Wednesday, and he said Friday. I said, "That's really short notice, the guys have gigs. Let me call you back."

The first guy I called was Jimmy Vivino, the guitarist and arranger who is now leading my band in my absence. I said, "Jimmy, I'm working on something. You know me, my gigs are really interesting and if this works out, it's gonna be big. I can't tell you what it is, but trust me." I called Jim Pitt back and said, "Friday is a little early, do you think we can play for you next week?" So he changed the audition to Tuesday. I had Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday to put a band together. The only directions they gave me was it couldn't be a rock band, it couldn't be a "rock oldies" band, they didn't want a funk band like Arsenio had at the time, and they didn't want a real jazz band, which wasn't a problem because I wasn't a jazz drummer. The thing I kind of latched onto was what I did with Killer Joe, which was sort of jump blues vibe. It was a little jazzy, it could be instrumental, but it had a muscular feel to it, which I felt comfortable with.

Sunday morning, Jimmy and I got together and wrote five songs. In the afternoon, the guys started to filter in one by one, and by Monday we had these five songs down. The six acts we were up against were auditioning at this studio in New York that looked like a real '70s kind of place - lots of wood, kinda country. I didn't want to play there, so I asked if it would be a problem if we auditioned at Carroll Music, which is the last remaining rehearsal studio in New York that looks like the 1940s. I rented staging, lights, and curtains, and I set it up like a TV studio. I told everyone to wear the loudest Hawaiian shirt they could, and the night before I had my wife put big letters on my bass drum head that said, "MAX."

So then came the audition. Things seemed to be going well. When we began the third song, which was a second-line, New Orleans thing, Conan jumped up and started to dance around. I figured that was a good sign. I'll never forget, when they left I was so glad it was over I went into the bathroom and threw up. This was the first Tuesday in August.

The following Monday morning, I got a call from Jeff Ross, the producer. He said, "Max, can you go to LA? Executive producer Lorne Michaels wants to meet you." "Sure, when?" "Now." I got dressed, went to the airport, and flew to LA, where a car picked me up and took me to Paramount Pictures, where they were shooting Wayne's World II. I met Lorne, he asked me a couple of questions, and that was it. I came back Tuesday, and Tuesday night we started to rehearse. Ten days later, on September 13, 1993, we were on the air. We went on the air knowing fifteen songs, and now we have over four hundred full-length songs and close to 3,500 thirty-six-bar walk-ons. The band runs like a machine. But I think my story is a good example of why you shouldn't let other people say, "You can't do this" or "You can’t do that." You should stay true to what turns you on, because good things will happen. No matter how long it takes, or how high the stakes are, if you do what you're put here to do, it will happen.

MD: How did the reunion of The E Street Band and Bruce come about?

MW: Last summer ['98] Bruce was putting together what became the box set Tracks. One day he called, saying, "Hey, I've been working on this bunch of music. Can you come over and check it out? I think you'd really get a kick out of listening to it." I went to his studio in New Jersey and he and I sat for four hours listening to everything he'd been working on, compiling old tracks that we had done years before. I was blown away, because most of it I had never heard. We used to record five, six songs a night. We'd play them once or twice and then forget about them. This was twenty years ago, so I didn't remember a lot of the stuff. I was blown away by the energy, the intensity, and the songwriting! A few months later, around the middle of November, the idea of playing together again came up, and that started the ball rolling. It was an opportunity in the context of everyone's careers that was able to happen. In my case, I was very fortunate that NBC allowed me to take a hiatus to revisit my role as Mighty Max, the rock drummer.

MD: What's different being back with Bruce after having all these other musical experiences? Your approach must be very different.

MW: My approach is very different. I don't have calluses or blisters on my hands after a month of playing concerts because I've been playing every day for four hours for the last six years in a high-pressure situation. I'm relaxed and mature as a drummer. Everyone in The E Street Band has grown as a musician and as a person, so it's easier now. It's the best band we've ever had - there's a maturity and depth to the playing, but we still have the energy and excitement. Bruce is better than he's ever been, and he's always been great. He's amazing. It's a thrill to play with him, it's a thrill to play with the band.
  

© Copyright 1999 Modern Drummer Publications, Inc.