A Conversation with Jimmy Ryan – HuffPost 10.25.10

Mike Ragogna: Good day, Mr. Jimmy Ryan, how the heck are you today?

Jimmy Ryan: I’m doing good–or, I’m sorry, I’m doing well.

MR: (laughs) Would you please tell the readers your history in the music business?

JR: Do we have hours and hours?

MR: (laughs) Yes. Yes, we do.

JR: I started off with The Critters. There was a precursor to The Critters called The Vibratones, but that was, like, a high school band. I started off with The Critters, who were, basically, local Jersey guys, and we got lucky in that the first time out, we had a minor hit called “Children And Flowers,” and then a big hit with “Younger Girl.” Then, we had another big hit with” Mr. Dieingly Sad,” and then a moderately big hit with “Don’t Let The Rain Fall Down On Me.” Then, we had legions of bombs. What happened was, literally fifty percent of the band got drafted, and the other fifty percent just couldn’t carry the load without the guys who got drafted. One of the guys who got drafted was Don Ciccone, our lead singer, which really kind of threw a wet blanket on the whole thing. I did not get drafted, I stayed in college, and when I came out of college, I just toured with The Critters for a little while.

When The Critters really couldn’t do it anymore, I briefly took a job in a guitar store called Dan Armstrong Guitars–Dan manufactures those really cool, clear plastic guitars that you ended up seeing The Stones use, and a bunch of other rock stars. Anyway, Dan’s girlfriend was Carly Simon. Carly was a close friend of mine. We used to all go out and double date together, and at one point, about a year after Dan and I parted ways, Carly and Dan parted ways, and about six months later, Carly called me up and said, “Hey, I got a record deal, do you want to play on my record?” I went, “What?” I had no idea that she had the talent to do that–I’d heard her sing occasionally, but it wasn’t really the central focus of what she was doing at that time–she was just Carly, Dan’s girlfriend. When I went into the studio and heard what she was doing, I was absolutely blown away. It was a totally new person and that started a twenty-one year career.

I played on her very first record, and I worked with her right through ’92, when my second son was born and going out on the road wasn’t really an option anymore. At that point, I started scoring jingles, radio commercials, TV commercials, and stuff like that, and I did that for a bunch of years and had some good hits. I did McDonalds, Ford, Chevy–things like that. I got tired of doing that and I really wanted to do film scoring and TV scoring, so then I delved into that and I had really good success on the first try with a movie called My Sergei, which aired on CBS. It was the story of Ekaterina Gordeeva and Sergei Grinkov, two multi-gold, medal-winning skaters. Sergei, in the middle of practice, had a massive heart attack at twenty-six years old, and this was the story of their life and their love and the whole thing. It was a beautiful movie. I’ve done bunches of stuff since then, and that’s, basically, what I’m doing now–still scoring films for TV, promos, and some news themes. Most of the music on CNBC during the financial programs is mine.

MR: So, you got into news programs.

JR: A lot of the CBS, NBC, and ABC local networks across the country have had me do their music via the Gannett Corporation. Gannett owns and broadcasts a bunch of those stations. That’s it in a nutshell, and I occasionally play live like I’m going to do tonight.

MR: Now, people also will remember your guitar lead on “You’re So Vain.” All these years later, that’s one of the most memorable guitar solos ever. How do you feel about having contributed to music culture like that?

JR: It’s one of those things where when you really try to do something like that, I don’t know how successful you are. That solo was…I wouldn’t call it a mistake, but it was kind of a mistake. I was just fooling around, grabbed a bottle neck, and I noticed faces in the control room after I had run off kind of a sketch of what I thought I might do–just the first thing off the top of my head. I went inside and said, “Yeah, something like that. I don’t know.” They’re looking at each other, “Something like that?” I said, “Yeah.” They said, “You’re done.” So, I said, “No, that’s just a sketch. I want to perfect it,” and they said, “You are done, sir. It’s brilliant. Get out of here.” That was it–it was a one shot deal off the top of my head. And if I had sat there to try and create that solo, it would have taken a week and been horrible. It’s just one of those lucky moments where everything lined up, and you just threw something out and it worked.

MR: I love it, spontaneity

JR: Well, spontaneity works when you’ve practiced and your fingers work. Sometimes, you’re spontaneous, but you’re not warmed-up, so there are a lot of mistakes, but I happened to have been playing all afternoon, so I was warmed up. Luckily, it got executed pretty much the way I wanted it to–at least for the sketch. I wouldn’t have picked those notes again because I wanted to change some things and take the slide out for some things, and they said, “Oh, no, no, no.” What I find more fun than doing that was that I got replaced for a while by David Spinoza in her touring band because I was working with another band and couldn’t do it, so she replaced me with David and made him do my solo. David is this incredible guitar player and he does not need me for coaching, I can assure you. But all the same, she made him do my solo, and every muzak version of that song does my solo note for note as well as they can.

MR: And Carly recently revisited the song on her rerecord album, Never Been Gone.

JR: I didn’t have any involvement in that, but I think she did “You’re So Vain.”

MR: I actually interviewed her for that record a while back, though I can’t remember for sure it copped your lead.

JR: I don’t know, I’d have to go back and listen. I haven’t had much contact with her or her music since ’92, really. I briefly run into her now and then, but I haven’t been following her career very closely. I occasionally hear something or see a video on YouTube, but I don’t remember.

MR: By the way, she sent her love to you in the interview I did with her for The Huffington Post. She thinks you’re the bees’ knees.

JR: Oh, that’s great, she’s a sweetheart.

MR: There are a number of other artists that you’ve worked with over the years such as Paul McCartney, right?

JR: Well, yes and no. It’s actually a very funny story. Because of my connection with Richard Perry–who was Carly’s producer–and, at the time, was connected to everybody in the world, when we were doing the No Secrets album, we were in the studio where I was doing an overdub, and I look into the control room because somebody had just walked in. I’m looking and I’m going, “Oh no, I am not seeing what I think I’m seeing.” Paul and Linda McCartney walked into the control room. We were working at George Martin’s studio, AIR, and Paul was there–nobody had any idea he was working there. So, I was like, “Oh my God.” One of my greatest heroes was like twenty feet away. So, he came out into the studio area where everybody was chatting and he said, “So, I got called to do a movie score and I’ve never done one before. I don’t know what I’m doing really, but could I play the song for you, and maybe you can give me some critique on it or something.” Then, he sits down and plays “Live And Let Die” at the piano.

We’re all looking at each other–we’re going to critique Paul McCartney on this song, which is absolutely freaking amazing? No, I think we’re going to tell him it’s absolutely freaking amazing. So, the next day he recorded it, but that evening we were doing vocals for–I can’t remember what it was–and he was still hanging around because they were just prepping, he was going over the charts with George Martin, and he was just hanging out and having fun. So, he saw we were having trouble trying to work it out–the singers were Doris Troy, Bonnie Bramlett, myself, and Carly, and Paul just came out and said, “You know, I think if you do this, you can…” Now, we’re all singing backups with Paul McCartney. So, worked with Paul McCartney? Yes, but not exactly in his band, he just came out and did vocals on our album. It was phenomenal. There is one other story, and you can edit this out because I drink lots of coffee and talk way too much. (laughs)

MR: (laughs) I think the song you were talking about was her cover of James Taylor’s “Night Owl.”

JR: I don’t remember because that was like thirty-nine years ago, I guess.

MR: Right, but you go back further. Didn’t you first appear on the Anticipation album?

MR: For the Anticipation, Carly recorded one of your songs, didn’t she?

JR: Yes she did. Actually, we wrote it together. I came in with an instrumental and a melody and said, “Why don’t you write some lyrics to this?” She did, and we all liked it, so we recorded it.

MR: Nice. Now fork over the other Paul McCartney story.

JR: I was talking about the Richard Perry connection–Richard calls me up and says, “Hey, McCartney is auditioning his new band at the Hard Rock. The Hard Rock in London would actually do that, they’d have bands in there, unlike the commercial Hark Rocks we know here, they really were connected with the rock stars, and the guitars on the wall really were the rock star’s guitars, not faux guitars. Anyway, McCartney chose Hard Rock to debut Wings. His guitar player was Henry McCullough from Stone The Crows–Henry and I knew each other from England, and we used to hang out. Anyway, I go to it, it was kind of good, and Henry looks over to me–I’m very close to him–and he goes, “Jimmy, come take the guitar, mate. I’m f**ked-up and I can’t play.” He was so freakin’ drunk, he could barely stand up. So, he tosses me his Les Paul, I put the thing on, and they were playing a song that was easy enough to pick up, so I started playing…obviously it took a second for me to figure out what I was doing. Then, Paul turned around, looked at me, and goes, “What the…?” and I go, “Hi.” I just started playing and he shrugged his shoulders, “Oh well,” and there I was in Wings for fifteen minutes or whatever it was.

MR: Can you imagine if that had become a more permanent gig?

JR: Yeah, that would have been fun. I actually am friends with one of the guys who did do the permanent gig, Steve Holley, and he said it was fun. They used to hang out a lot, Linda would cook them nice vegetarian meals, and it was a real nice little family.

MR: How do you go back to a normal life after being in that sphere?

JR: I have no idea. I know people still love him. He played Radio City Music Hall a few months ago and brought the house down. He actually did it for the David Lynch Foundation–it was a charity deal, and, apparently, everybody loved it. He ended up pulling about half his songs from the video and only picked the best of the best to show, which is fine. Believe me, he has earned the right to do whatever he wants.

MR: For a time, you were going from session to session in New York, had your own production company, and worn many hats in your career. Now, you’re getting some of your ol’ studio buddies for a band called The Hitmen.

JR: Yes, yes.

MR: What’s the story behind The Hitmen?

JR: The Four Seasons were originally Frankie Valli, Tommy DeVito, Nick Massi, and Bob Gaudio, who wrote all the songs. Nick Massi passed away, Tommy DeVito embezzled, I think three million dollars–it’s all in Jersey Boys, the play. Anyway, he gracefully bowed out and turned over The Four Seasons to Frankie Valli and Bob Gaudio. Bob didn’t want to tour anymore–Bob’s the writer–so, now it was Frankie, and Frankie put this new band together called Frankie Valli And The Four Seasons, and that was Don Ciccone from The Critters, Lee Shapiro, Gerry Polci the drummer, and I forget the guitar player’s name–I’ve never met him and I don’t know him. They toured for a while, Frankie got a lot older, and from what I understand, he had an ear operation that caused some problems with his singing, but I don’t know the whole story.

Anyway, these guys all kind of went their separate ways. Fast forward, they all thought, “Wouldn’t it be fun to put a band together that is a combination of all the people we played with?” So, Don, Lee, and Gerry started to play with the idea, and then they pulled in a guy named Larry Gates, who had played with Carole King and a bunch of stars. But they needed a fifth guy, somebody to fill it out. So, they had somebody, and he didn’t work out because he hadn’t played with anybody and was a pain in the butt, so they dumped him. Lee said, “Why don’t you call Ryan?” Don said, “He’s never going to want to do that. I’ve been trying to get him to put The Critters together since they fell apart, and he’s always said no.” Lee said, “Just give it a shot, you never know.” So, they called me and I said, “Are you kidding me? I’d do it in a heartbeat.” So, we did a rehearsal, everybody got assigned their parts, and I am Frankie Valli in this particular production–I get to sing all of those screeching high parts. Don just does himself because he’s the one who actually sang, “Who Loves You?” Gerry plays himself, he’s the one who sang, “Oh, What A Night.” So, we got the original guys doing their original songs, we will do The Critter songs, Don will do his, and I will do mine.

I worked on Jim Croce’s first album, so I’m going to do a couple of Jim Croce songs. I also did Cat Stevens’ Buddha And The Chocolate Box album, so I’m going to be performing “Peace Train” and “Bitter Blue.” All of them were part of Tommy James And The Shondells for a while–they were all touring with him–so, we’re going to do “Mony Mony,” and I think we might do “Hanky Panky,” although I’m trying to vote against that–not my favorite song. So, the band is going to do a series of the songs that we played on. It’s kind of like the East Coast version of The Wrecking Crew. The Wrecking Crew were all studio musicians, but we actually toured with all these people, and went out on the road to perform with them. So, that’s who they are. We’ve had a couple of rehearsals and it’s really fun. The singing is very strong–that’s the part that usually makes or breaks a band, can they really carry the tunes? Well, these guys can sing, you know? On top of that, they’re great players, every one of them.

MR: So, where will The Hitmen be playing?

JR: We are playing at Mexicali, which is in Teaneck, New Jersey, on November 11th, so if you’re within earshot of this thing please come out and join us. It’s a big place, I think it holds about two-hundred ten people or something like that, and that’s our debut and our test. We all decided that we’ve been doing this for a long time, and the only reason we would do something like this is if it was really good, really fun, and was making a little money. So, we’re going to take it for a test drive on the 11th, and if we like it and people like it, we’ll keep going. If it sucks, we’re out of there.

MR: But it’s official, David Spinoza is not a part of this?

JR: (laughs) David Spinoza is not a part of this. I saw David about a year ago, and he told me he had retired. He’s living up in New England and skis a lot. He was the music director for a couple of Letterman-type shows, and he had a phenomenal career, so I think he’s probably enjoying retirement right now. I know he’s playing every now and then, but nobody is doing much these days–there’s no music business. (laughs)

MR: Let’s talk about that. Having been in the music business, being associated with so many great artists, from your perspective, what does it look like these days?

JR: Well, I’ve had many, many careers in the music business, and I would not say it had so much to do with talent, but had much more to do with survival. (laughs) As things disappear, I quickly morph into whatever I can to stay in the music business, and continue to play, write, and have fun in music. So, it depends on which area you’re talking about, but I think most areas of the music business are suffering, and I’ll talk briefly about the areas I know.

I don’t know too much about the record business at this point because I’m not really in it–I’m doing live performing and TV scoring. The actual making of records has changed a lot because most people make their records at home. The price of equipment has dropped to the point where everybody has Pro Tools and a decent console, and you can really do a phenomenal job with a project in the home studio. But marketing it is another story. I subscribe to an email list of, basically, the movers and shakers in the industry, and to hear them talk about it, the record companies are having such a hard time. They really want to sell hardware and nobody is buying hardware–they don’t want CDs, they want downloads and they don’t want to pay for it. Once something is given away, it’s so difficult to sell it; when the original Napster came out, you could get all your music for free. ITunes has done phenomenally, and I make my kids buy their songs, and I will not let anyone in my family download for free. But you have vast numbers of people who download for free, and it’s very difficult to find a business model that makes it profitable to make records. Playing live–you can’t steal a live performance. So, any bands that have any reputation are doing fine playing live. There are exceptions like Lady Gaga, who will not want for a means ever in her life. But most of the other bands are having trouble.

Like I said, I’m not the expert on that, and I know a lot more about the business that I was in, which was TV promos. Those would be movie previews, shows coming up on Showtime, HBO, Lifetime, ESPN, and things like that, but that business has virtually gone away. What has happened is, the library business–which is just composers writing any kind of music for any reason giving it to one of these big libraries–hope that the library will put it on a massive bunch of CDs and somebody will use it. So, for the music libraries, this is a really good business because they have completely and totally taken over all but the big TV themes. Most of the advertising music–except for big, gigantic clients like McDonalds–is all library music. The reason is library music costs less than ten percent of what it costs to hire somebody like me. So, even if it’s not good, economically, it’s almost impossible for the producers to justify to the stockholders why they’re spending money on original music when this music is okay. It’s not a good fit, but it’s okay and it’s just dirt cheap. So, that business is gone forever, and it will probably never come back because now everybody is trying to write library music, so library music is getting better. News music is the next in line.

Now, companies are coming up with syndicated news packages. I’ve been called twice in the last month and asked if I have a syndicated news package, and I say, “No, I custom make them for you.” I argue, “Do you want to sound like every other station? Do you want something that was written ten years ago to represent you?” and most of them say, “No, but the price is right, so that’s what we’re going to do.” And they wonder why nobody is listening to broadcast news. That business is going away, and that really is what has been financing my boat here. So, who knows where it’s going to go next? Maybe retirement.

MR: (laughs) Uh-huh. I doubt you’d ever give them digits of yours a rest.

JR: No, I will always play, and that’s what I’m doing now. I have several little groups that I play with just for fun, and a little cash. It’s fine–I’m a good saver, and I’m not going to starve. In the good years, I put money away, so it’s not the end of the world. But it is a new business, and I feel bad for young musicians coming up because where there used to be many, many outlets, that business has thinned. Writing for libraries…there are a million writers writing for libraries, and with any business in a situation like that, accurate accounting is just unheard of. All they can keep track of is that money is coming in, and they don’t care from where. When you have three or four-hundred writers and you distribute maybe two-hundred unique CDs to every TV and radio station in the world, some station in London says, “We like cut twelve on CD twenty-seven. Here’s three-hundred dollars for it.” The money goes in and they say, “What did they say? What cut did they want? Ah, who cares? The check cleared.” So, the writer doesn’t get paid, but the library does.

Does it get registered with ASCAP? If you’re lucky. You’re lucky if somebody remembers and keeps a cue sheet, but it’s just a lot of detail that nobody cares about. There are no laws governing it. ASCAP says, “You have to pay us if you play it,” but ASCAP receives the blanket license from one of these stations and there’s no information about what was played, so nobody gets paid.

MR: Having served your country well all these years in the music business, what advice might you have for new artists that want to get started?

JR: Boy, it’s tough. I’ve got two very talented kids, and I’m telling them that a law degree would be really good. (laughs) I don’t know. It’s a new business and it hasn’t formed yet. We’re in a morphing state right now, where it’s not clear where it’s going. I would be the last person to say that if music is your passion, forget about it–I would never say that. If you love music, play music, but be prepared to be hungry. Truthfully, that’s always been the case–a few bad artists make it to the top, but for the most part, the people who really make it to the top had all the stars line up. They had the right connections, the talent, or if they don’t have the talent, they have the looks. Some combination takes them up there, but it’s a number of things, not just the talent. You have to have a look, you have to have the charisma, you have to have a business savvy about you–although in the ’50s, that wasn’t necessary. But in the ’50s, nobody made any money. There are a number of things that are very, very important. You have to be good with people, you have to be a good negotiator, and there are so many things involved that it’s kind of like winning the lottery. Do it, by all means, but have something in your back pocket to feed yourself because it can be a long, hard haul, and you have to be realistic about it.

I actually didn’t go to college for music, I went for electrical engineering. Even not knowing what was coming, I still went to college for a different career. While I was in college I had a hit, so that’s what changed the tide for me, but I wasn’t counting on it. I wanted it to be that way, I wanted to have a hit, and from the time I picked up a guitar, which was eight years old, I wanted to be Elvis Presley. I loved music and I loved performing, but around age seventeen or eighteen, all my friends were going to college and nothing was happening. I wasn’t going to play bars for the rest of my life, so I went to college. I went to Villanova, Don Ciccone was my roommate, and, luckily, in my sophomore year, “Younger Girl” came out, and that was kind of the end of it. I made it through about two months of my junior year; coming home at four o’clock in the morning from being on tour on a Sunday night, and then going to an eight o’clock calculus class didn’t work. So, I dropped out and that was the end of college for me. But I did go to college fully intending to graduate and be an electrical engineer had the music thing not worked out. I would say do that–keep your bases covered–and if it works out for you, it works out, but don’t cut off all your resources to do it. I just don’t think that makes any sense.

Transcribed by Ryan Gaffney