Paul Rapp – Capital Region Timekeepers

Paul Rapp – Capital Region Timekeepers – by OP Callaghan.

If you were around the Capital Region in the ‘80s and watched MTV, you knew Blotto. Not only were they one of the first bands to be played on MTV, but they were also the first local band to “make it” as real-life rock stars. For those of us aspiring rock stars, Blotto made it seem possible. As we watched their trajectory into stardom and rock ‘n roll history, they inspired us and helped pave the way for countless future rock stars from the Capital region. As an aspiring “wannabe” musician, I had started out by learning “Wipe Out” by the Surfaris. Ron Wilson, drummer for the Surfaris, had taken a simple high school marching band cadence, sped it up, and made history. But hearing Lee Harvey Blotto’s intro and performance on “Lifeguard,” and subsequent performances on “Metal Head” on PYX-106, completely spun me around, because according to Bob Mason, these guys lived right down the road! Blotto made the dream seem attainable and real. As an underage punk, I snuck into clubs to see them, eventually growing up enough to actually pay at the door. Suffice it to say, F. Lee Harvey Blotto, aka Paul Rapp, has been an inspiration and influence of mine since I started playing and dreaming. I was happy to run into Paul at a recent Martin Benjamin exhibit at J. Gernon Gallery in Troy, where we were able to catch up, enjoy some photography, and reminisce about Blotto. So please welcome, F. Lee Harvey Blotto, Paul Rapp!

RRX: Welcome, Paul, and thanks for doing this. How did you get your start drumming?

PR: I was one of those people who was born into it. One of my earliest recollections is crawling into the kitchen and dragging pots and pans into the living room where I’d hit them with Lincoln Logs and Tinker Toys. In fourth grade, I started taking lessons at school. After a year, the music teacher called my parents and said he’d taught me everything he knew and recommended private lessons. There was a guy in Batavia, an all-around percussionist, whom I took lessons from for a bunch of years. He got me into the Genesee Symphony Orchestra at the age of 12, where I played all kinds of classical percussion. He also sent me to have lessons at the Eastman School of Music in Rochester, which was a big time trip. In high school, I was in All-County Band and Area All-State Band for several years. The fact that I was classically trained is obvious from my work with Blotto, right?

RRX: Hah, yes! Very obvious. Do you come from a musical family?

PR: Not really. My Dad played trumpet, and my Mom played bassoon when they were kids. They both were really supportive, though. In 1969, when I was 14, Mom took my brother and me to see Led Zeppelin at Kleinhans Music Hall in Buffalo. The opening act was an unknown group from Kent, Ohio, called the James Gang! Mom thought they were “interesting young men.” It was a little uncomfortable sitting next to Mom while Zep played a 10-minute version of “The Lemon Song.”

RRX: Wow! Amazing double bill! But “The Lemon Song”? Yeah, now I’m uncomfortable. Do you play any other instruments?

PR: I took guitar lessons as a teenager, but it didn’t stick, mainly I think because I had a cheap and unplayable Kay acoustic guitar. If I’d had an electric, things might have turned out differently.

RRX: Maybe if Jimmy Page had played an acoustic Kay! Tell me about your first drum set?

PR: When I was 10 or 11, I convinced my Dad to take me to the Darien Center Fire Department’s monthly bingo night. Dad was a volunteer fireman and helped run the games. Incredibly, I won the big jackpot. $100! This really pissed off the old ladies who played religiously every month and never won. I found a used dark oyster Pearl Ludwig set for $110 in the Buffalo Evening News want ads and bought it. When I was a senior in high school, I foolishly decided that it wasn’t “blingy” enough and traded it in for a Rogers fiberglass kit wrapped with butcher block vinyl. Fugly-ass drums! These were the drums I eventually recorded “Lifeguard” with. But I wish I still had the old Ludwig kit.

RRX: Ugh! Me too! Do you still have the fiberglass Rogers?

PR: Art Snay bought the Rogers kit. After the 1979 sessions at Arabellum, where we recorded our first EP, he told me he loved recording them and if I ever wanted to ditch them, to let him know. In 1980, I went to Drome on Central and got a big Pearl fiberglass set with single-headed toms and this shitty mirror vinyl finish that showed fingerprints terribly, and sold the Rogers to Art. Then I had this weird set with a homemade rack holding electronic pads and roto-toms for a year or two, then I got oversized Yamaha Recording Customs, piano black, which I had well into the 2010s. Now I have Gretsch Renown ’57s, robin’s egg blue and ivory and chrome, utterly beautiful drums (that’s them in the photo). Gonna be selling them soon, along with all my cymbals.

RRX: Man, I’m sorry to hear that. Your Gretsch kit is gorgeous. OK, tell me about your first real gig.

PR: I was friends with some musician guys from Batavia High School, which had a really good music program. They were frustrated with their teacher, who had the jazz ensemble playing standard big band tunes, like Duke Ellington and Benny Goodman stuff. So they started their own big band and invited me to join. They raised money by having a fake raffle ($1 for a chance to win a color TV. There was no TV.) and bought a bunch of freaky recent big band charts by folks like Don Ellis, Stan Kenton, and Woody Herman. We played a bunch of gigs, including a battle of the bands that we won because there were like 20 of us, and we and our friends all voted for us. The power trios didn’t stand a chance. It was insane. If you haven’t heard the “Don Ellis Orchestra Live at the Fillmore,” check it out. Crazy music, ridiculous time signatures, analog electronics, psychedelic jazz. Zappa raided the band regularly for players who could play his more difficult stuff.

RRX: I only know Electric Bath. I will look for the “Live at the Fillmore.” Who were some of your first influences?

PR: Ringo (of course), then Ginger Baker and Keith Moon. I really liked busy players, and didn’t appreciate simple groove playing ’til I was older.

RRX: Who influences your playing now?

PR: I don’t play anymore, mainly because my hearing is shot. In the early ‘80s, nobody told us to wear protection, and we’re all paying for it now. But I will say the fusion jazz guys like Lenny White and Alphonse Mouzon spun my head around in the ‘70s. And Clem Burke was a huge influence during my Blotto days. I stole from him shamelessly.

RRX: Did you ever play with Clem Burke?

PR: Never shared a stage with Clem, never met him. Saw Blondie a couple of times (including Central Park with Rockpile!) and he was mesmerizing.

RRX: That would be an amazing double bill! Blondie and Blotto! Tell me about a favorite performance or recording of yours.

PR: Probably “Goodbye Mister Bond” from “Combo Akimbo.” It’s a fairly complex tune, at least for us, dramatic and almost orchestral. Robbie Sabino from Chic plays keys. Bowtie (as Dr. Bow) nails the villainous vocal delivery. And it was a blast to play live. Also, the BBC Rock Hour live recording from the Chance in Poughkeepsie. At that point (1983), my playing had settled down, and Cheese and I were deadly together. This reminds me that I need to get that show up on Spotify!

RRX: Please do! Best gig?

PR: Any of the JB Scott’s gigs. Any of the Chance gigs, of which there were over 50! And the first Harvest of Music Festival in 1980. We played after Helen Reddy, and there was an estimated 80,000 people at the Empire State Plaza. It was scary but fun. And then there were a bunch of bar gigs with Johnny Rabb, Eddie Angel, and Cheese back when we all used to drink. The third sets were always outrageous, to the extent I remember them. And of course, Bambi Manor, a band in which we played songs we weren’t allowed to play in other bands. Jeff Strange, Chevy Blotto, and Paul Matolsy. We were kind of like pirates. Very drunk and stupid pirates.

RRX: Worst gig?

PR: Probably a gig with my college band, Third Hand. Somehow, we got a gig at a bar in Saranac Lake, and some guys were harassing us, and it very nearly turned into a brawl. After the first set, the bar owner told us to get lost, and he didn’t pay us. It made for a long ride home.

RRX: What bar was it? The Swingin’ Tiger? Club 86?

PR: Oh gosh, no idea of the club in Saranac. I was reminded of the gig recently when the guitarist, Frank Doris, who’s now a writer/editor for Copper Magazine, wrote about it as his worst gig ever. Mine too! I was particularly bummed because I love the ‘Daks.

RRX: Do you have any regrets?

PR: The night after Lennon was shot, we played the Bottom Line with the Busboys. It was hard for all of us, but we did it. After the gig, the Busboys lead singer grabbed me and said, “I got us backstage for my man Prince at the Ritz. C’mon!” I turned him down. What an idiot!

RRX: I’m so sorry. Anything else you’d like to add?

PR: I’m often told by local musicians (like, for example, you!) that Blotto inspired them to carry on back in the day. People saw us on MTV and realized that you could actually make it from Albany. That’s profoundly humbling and gratifying, and it reminds me of how very lucky I was to hook up with those guys. We had a very special thing, and that continues to this day.

RRX: I couldn’t agree more. Thanks again, Paul.

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