thepsychedelicguitar

The last of this interview was sent back to me on November 11, 2003. Nandi openly shares so much; I am very grateful to him for his eager participation. He wrote:
I want you to know that were it not for people like yourself who are interested in what happened in a bygone era, the events would have no meaning. It would be like writing on water. Nothing exists beyond the moment (were it not for the recordings, which is what this is all about). Thank you for your interest.

For those new on the trail, could you give a brief time line of the projects you've been involved in?
When I was a kid, I used to play our family piano, picking out tunes by ear. When I started taking lessons at 9, I would laboriously read the notes and then memorize the piece and play it from memory... I never learned how to sight-read. My mother could improvise and sight-read and she had a photographic memory which allowed her to read a piece of sheet music once and thereafter see it in her mind and play it back without the music. Amazing! Since I couldn’t come close to that, I decided to just play by ear and see how far it would take me. (Throughout my musical life, I tried a number of times to learn how to sight-read, but I could never get the knack. When I started at UCLA, I majored in music. It took one semester for me to realize I couldn’t compete with my peers, some of whom had perfect pitch and were proficient sight readers. I switched majors to art after that first semester, and rarely mingled with other musicians, even after the Camel was touring, partly because of this insecurity. Only now do I realize that every one is different, and this difference can be our strength, if we approach it in the right way. It has made me try harder to play what I can create by myself, with passion, knowing my limitation of not being able to play others written material).

When I was 9, I memorized Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata” and played it for a school recital. You could say that was the first project I was involved in. That would have been 1953. When my family moved to Germany so my father could work for the Army as a Crafts Director in 1959, teaching the soldiers jewelry- making (to keep them off the streets), I got interested in classical guitar, having heard Andre’ Segovia’s albums at home and having seen him perform in Washington D.C. before we left. I started taking classical guitar lessons from German-speaking-only instructors in Augsburg and the next year in Kaiserslautern. I learned a few pieces that Segovia had played and played two of them in a variety show at our High School. I also got together with a couple school friends and put together a Kingston Trio copy band we called The Balladeers with a banjo player named Rick Toole and a bongo player named Jim Hutchison. (Jim, who called himself Hutch, later became a bass player for Bonnie Raitt in L.A.) At the same time another school friend named Mike Richardson was enamored with Chet Atkins and asked if I could help figure out some of his songs.

I borrowed his album and played it back on our turntable at 16 1/2 RPM, sounding one octave lower than the 33 1/3 speed it was recorded at. I figured out “One Mint Julip” and “Trambone”. (Incidentally, the beginning of Trambone I used as the intro to the Camel’s one hit, “Hello, Hello” because the song was written in the key of C and so was Trambone and it just fit. Before it was recorded, I used to play it on guitar, but it never sounded quite right to our producer, Eric Jacobsen, so I tried it on piano. Fortunately, when it was played on piano it didn’t sound like it was just lifted. (I’ve always wondered if Chet Atkins recognized it or if he ever heard the song). My father met one of the performers on the USO tours coming through Kaiserslautern, entertaining the troops. He thought I would appreciate meeting him so he invited him for dinner. His name was Richard Podolar (stage name Richie Allen). He played classical guitar for the USO tour but he was Ricky Nelson’s studio guitarist before being drafted into the Army. He also played on other records such as La Bamba by Richie Valens, Summertime Blues by Eddie Cochran and a host of other hits that had electric guitar breaks. He later produced Three Dog Night.

That evening, after dinner I played all the Chet Atkins songs I had figured out and he played a few of the well known breaks he’d done that I’d heard on the radio. Then he taped his own version of Susie Q which I learned and still play. This meeting was one of the most pivotal moments of my musical life. After graduating from High school, I went to UCLA from Germany because Richie Allen was the only person I knew. I got in touch with him and played bass a couple times for fraternity dances in a put-together band (after the Balladeers I was asked to play bass in a band that actually got paid to play, called The Dinachords). He showed me his new project, his recording studio that he was building with a built-in reverb chamber (state of the arts at the time in 1962) He called it American Records. At UCLA, the fraternity I joined had a yearly show in the school carnival called the Bowery, and they asked me to play barroom piano for their melodrama, (the villain ties the heroine to the train tracks, etc.) and the sorority we linked with did the CanCan. From that experience, I developed the piano style that I used on Hello, Hello.

The Camel was the longest project that I was ever involved in. From its inception in 1966, writing songs with Peter Kraemer in the flat where I rented a room while I was going to the Art Institute in San Francisco, to the end of the second reconstruction of the band after I broke my left wrist, roller skating backwards in the parking lot of our hotel while on our promo tour for our second album in 1973. In between those two albums, I wrote the score (or rather composed it and memorized it while the choreographer created the parts for the dancers) for a play called “The World We Live In” for the theater department at College of Marin in 1968. It was later produced for the Mountain Play held yearly on the top of Mt. Tamalpais. There were songs that were written for the leading actor to sing, and I asked my brother-in-law George Whitney, a poet, to write poems from the play text. I put them to music. I also created instrumental themes for different parts of the play to reflect the different moods. That was one of the most enjoyable projects I ever worked on, because of the variety of demands for music.

After the Camel broke up for the last time, I put myself into a new non-musical project, making hand-carved wooden signs in Marin County. I called myself The Signmaker and enjoyed making more money than I had ever made being a musician. I also developed some disciple in the realm of finishing what I started. At the end of that career, about 9 years later, I made a jingle for a hot tub store, recording it on a friend’s Sony 4-track reel-to-reel machine singing all the vocal overdubs myself. It was played on a TV station a few times. That was 1980. After moving to Flushing, New York for 41/2 years I had a dream to make a business out of making phone answering machine singing messages, and call them Phone Tunes. I recorded about 8 of them before I realized I would never make a living doing that but out of that experience I was asked to do music for a Fox TV cable channel (this was in my spare time, because I made my living being a waiter and later a Captain at Tavern on the Green, the restaurant in Central Park in New York City frequented by stars and other famous people). I had my daughters dance and sing the songs I wrote for them and they were video-taped and shown on the weekly shows for that cable network on Long Island. At the same time I collaborated with a friend of mine who wrote country songs (he was born and raised in New York) and I arranged them by over-dubbing keyboard, harmonica and bass behind his acoustic guitar and lead vocals. We submitted them to producers and publishers without much success. Five years later we did the same thing again but this time Marty Ranone moved to Nashville with his family and signed with a publishing house and had some of his songs recorded by country singers.

When I moved back to the San Francisco Bay Area in 1985, I became a tile artisan, first working for the artist Joan Brown making public monuments out of tile (called obelisks) and later becoming a tile contractor, remodeling the homes of the wealthy or deep-in-debt. There were fewer musical projects after moving back to the bay area until 3 years ago when I purchased a Roland VS-1680 and began learning how to use it by recording several singer-sonwriters. One of those artists will be debuting his first 10-song CD on my new record label, Camel Records. The URL is camelrecords.net which is still under construction until we finish The Tom Huebner Band CD, from which we will select audio clips. I have always been the happiest collaborating with others on their projects, working on the challenges that come up, finding creative solutions. The mission of Camel Records is to give back to other musicians the opportunities that were given to me when I started out.

Are there particular moments on album that you feel "define" the Terry MacNeil years?
The second song on our first album... Frantic Desolation was said by Elvis Costello to be one of the best examples of psychedelic guitar from the period. I was humbled to hear that, because I felt there were definitely better guitarists around than I. What was interesting about the session is that I really wanted to reflect the meaning of the words, which were sort of desperate and desolate and I sat really close to my amp so it would feed-back and played as weird a solo as I could muster. I was making it up as I went along, unlike some of our songs which we performed a lot, so it had a freshness that shows. We were looking for material for the album and that song was one of the first Peter and I wrote and we sort of threw it out right away, never performing it. I do think it is one of the best examples of my guitar playing because of its freshness.

Factiod: Speaking of freshness, in the early '70s, Nandi bought goat milk from Norman Greenbaum's farm in Petaluma, CA.

What were some early influences on your playing?
I listened to a blues guitarist names Josh White (a black man) when I was about 5 years old. He sang John Henry and that was one of the first solos I figured out after I got my first guitar in 1960. George Gershwin (Porgy and Bess) and a lot of classical music from Beethoven to Bach was around the house. Of course I listened to all the rock and roll on the radio from Elvis to Buddy Holly, and Jerry Lee Lewis to the Everly Brothers. I was impressed with them all, and they formed the standard from which I would base my playing. As I mentioned earlier, I was really impressed with Ricky Nelson’s guitarist, Richie Allen. I thought he had the most expressive breaks of the period. I learned the break to “It’s Late” and “Hello Marylou”. I also listened to a lot of Dave Brubeck, because my older brother played flute and was into jazz, and I was influenced by the lyrical playing of the saxophonist, Paul Desmond. I think I used to emulate his playing when I would improvise on guitar. I believe you play what you hear, and that’s why I used to construct Bach-like solos in some of the Camel’s songs... I just wanted to hear them. That would account for the eclectic diversity of the Camel’s repertoire also... it just reflected the variety of musical backgrounds of its members.

You chose a deeply spiritual life path. Would you talk a bit about what led up to this and how you changed your life?
Thanks for asking this question. It has allowed me to reflect on my past in a detached way and to realize a lot of things that I can see clearer now with the perspective of time.

It was out of desperation that I chose the spiritual path. All of the changes that were brought about by starting a band and dropping out of mainstream life and maintaining a relationship that I had started in college made for a lot of confusion. It was the need for mental peace that made me gravitate to self inquiry. A free Hatha Yoga class taught by a very light-filled monk at College of Marin where my former wife (I am no longer married) went for theater classes, was the start of a 25 year relationship with my Guru, Sivayasubramuniyaswami, at that time called Master Subramuniya. Interestingly enough, Master Subramuniya had purchased the old brewery that my songwriting partner, Peter Kraemer had grown up in, in Virginia City, Nevada, when he was a kid. Peter knew of my Guru long before I ever met him.

The brewery was converted into an ashram, a mountain monastery retreat center for monastics and devotees. I only learned this fact after the first break-up of the Camel. It’s amazing how people’s karmas are intertwined in one another. The most important thing that I got from the teachings of the Guru is that we are not victims of anyone or anything... that ultimately we choose to be bothered by something or let it “roll like water off a duck’s back”... The term was “affectionate detachment”, and it has been a very hard thing for me to learn (having started out somewhat overly sensitive) to create a little thicker skin, to be able to work “in the world and not be of it”. Master Subramuniya was hailed as the “practical Yogi”, when most other spiritual teachers at the time were somewhat idealistic and seemed to have their heads in the clouds. A really good way to acquaint oneself with the teachings of Sivayasubramuniyaswami is to visit the website of the publication which serves Hindus around the world... www.hinduismtoday.com

When I first started, the teachings were directed toward self-inquiry and self-improvement, resulting in self-realization... the stated goal of life on this plane for beings inhabiting a human body. Later, the teachings were directed toward learning about Hindu culture and metaphysics and becoming a religious person which included temple worship and religious observances. In 1979, all of the members of Himalayan Academy were required to change their name to a Hindu name, first and last. There was a list we were given from which to choose a name, three first and three last. Then the Guru picked the combination and that was our name. It was all pretty mystical and everyone’s name really fit them. Also everyone’s name had a meaning in the Sanskrit language, like mine, Nandi, is the name of the mount or animal that the God, Lord Siva rides in Hindu mythology. Hindu mythology is defined by stories that describe the way the universe is constructed from the perspective of the ancient mystics. In Hindu metaphysics, man and God are identical at their core, so people are given names that reflect one of the many facets of God. Nandi also means the Compassionate One and the Joyful One.

Looking back, what are some impressions of the late '60s scene?
One of the biggest impressions I carry with me of the late “60’s scene is that of freedom and joy. The intention was to create a lifestyle that was not uptight, or fraught with seriousness. I had personally had about all of that, that I could handle at the time and I witnessed what seemed to be the whole of society being in that state of mind. My painting instructor at the Art Institute wanted me to paint with anger, and was only happy when I came from that place. That was the event that pushed me over the edge. Peter and I had just met and started writing songs and we were creating our dream of having our own rock band. Sky was the limit. I dropped out of art school and used next semester’s tuition to buy a guitar and amp.

We all actually felt like we were creating a new society, and that things would be better off operating with this new perspective of joy and freedom. There were few responsibilities and it was easy to feel that way. Of course, the fact that some one made sure at each rehearsal or gig that we were sky high, helped create that perspective, I am sure. And in retrospect, I can remember some instances when the feeling of having no responsibilities were due to the fact that they were not being met. Ah, well. There was, however, a feeling of sharing and a kindness to one another that was really tangible. And there was a newness that was exhilarating, where we were able to dress any way we pleased and create a new reality for ourselves in doing so. This feeling carried over into the music.

What do you carry with you from the psychedelic era?
I’d like to say my pocket knife, but I lost that years ago. (Just kidding!) Actually, I think the only thing I carry with me is the memory of that time, and the recording I did. The confusion at the culmination of that time prompted me to restructure my life with different patterns and a new reality. I started a family and chose to have responsibilities, rather than be free and avoid responsibilities. It was time. It was OK.

Name some books that changed your life...
There is a scripture that is sworn on in the courts of law in Tamil Nadu, in South India. It is called the Tirukural by the weaver saint, Saint Tiruvalluvar. A couple of the monks of my Guru’s order were directed by him to translate it into modern English, since it was written thousands of years ago in verse form in a dialect of Tamil that no longer exists. This text I used, sort of like the I Ching to devine the moment, to make a cosmic statement on what was happening at the moment, and it always proved to be right on. (I think a copy of it can be ordered through the Hindu Temple bookstore online) It, more than any other book I have read, has made me ponder the true reality of life. Take for instance one of the verses on Health: The body requires no medicine if you eat again only after the food you have eaten is digested. This makes total sense to me, even though it may not be common knowledge nowadays or in this culture.

Another book I read recently was Mutant Message Down Under, by Marlo Morgan about an incredible walkabout this regular American woman had with an Aborigine tribe in Australia and the knowledge that was revealed to her as a result.

...five albums you feel are essential to the soundtrack of your life - that really move you...
1. Fantasia on Greensleeves and Fantasia on a theme by Thomas Talis by Vaughn Williams conducted by Sir Adrian Boult, performed by a London Orchestra.
I listened to this and other albums over and over one summer when I was 16 and really got into the mind of the composer and the conductor and the instrumentalists. Their concentration and passion moved me and that meditation stuck with me for the rest of my life. Great musicians have the same excitement and intensity about their music regardless of what kind of music they are playing, and I have always strived to emulate that.

2. Rubber Soul by the Beatles.
Soon after Peter and I started writing songs, we went to an all night party where they played Rubber Soul continuously because it had just been released. I got to really get into that album and the songwriting and arrangements that were created. That was a pivotal time for me both musically and personally.

3. Sergeant Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band by The Beatles.
The Ultimate in arranging and production and general musical creativity.

4. Billy Joel’s Greatest Hits.
About four years ago I copied this CD onto my Minidisk player and listened to it through my truck cassette player while riding to my jobs as a tile contractor. I really respect Billy Joel as a pop songwriter... he can take a style, go to its essence and write a song with his own message from there. The production was consistent for each song also and understated as well. I learned a lot from this period of listening to Billy Joel.

5. Krishna Das, Live on Earth (for a limited time only).
This is a chanting CD. The lyrics are Sanskrit and the melodies and the chords are made up by the singer. It is a real synthesis of East and West. It creates a mood which is meditative, with no cerebral input. I like the place this music takes me.

...and three causes you feel strongly about.
Vegetarianism (Not for everyone, but it really fits me) Recycling (Good for the planet and ultimately each individual when we start to run out of space) Kindness (I can’t think of a better place to come from, and to live in)

What did you do in the post-Camel years, and what are you up to now? Post-Camel years found me trying to make a living and still be an artist. To some degree I was successful, having created my own business making hand-carved wooden signs. I called myself The Signmaker, and I got most of my business from the Yellow Pages ad in my local phone directory. If I had known how to budget money or not spend my last dollar, it might have been easier. This knowledge is hard-won... I guess one really has to make all the mistakes to know what not to do (the next time). At least that seems to be true for me.

Regardless of the challenges I faced, life was more abundant being self employed and I was able to raise a family (three biological daughters and one adopted) and own a home. I was always plugging away in some respect at music, but it no longer was my first priority. What am I up to now?... I am in the process of realizing all the dreams I have had for a long time regarding music. I always dreamed of being able to record myself and others. I have had a host of less-than-studio-quality set ups until now. With the advent of the hard disk recorder, studio quality recording is within the reach of musicians and want-to-be recording engineers. I had written some songs a couple years ago and worked on arranging them but hit the wall of ignorance with respect to knowing how to use my new 16 track recorder. I did then what any novice would do... I offered my services for free so I could learn how to use my gear, and lo and behold, it worked! After a couple years and working with other musicians on projects, we have been able to get CD quality sound... and I have been helpful to other musicians which makes me feel good.

Gear - what was your first guitar, what guitars/amps/pedals did you use during the Camel years, and what is your setup these days?
My first guitar was a smaller than full size classical guitar that my parents bought for me in Germany in 1959. I graduated to a full size guitar after about a year and went to the Hofner guitar factory to buy it. They brought one out of the back room after I rejected a few for lack of resonance. It was a really nice guitar and I played it for years until it got stolen out of the back of my car when I was in the Camel, movin' from one place to another. I bought a Fender Jazzmaster with the money I earned playing bass for the Dinachords in Germany, but I never could get into it. It always seemed stiff. I didn’t know about light gauge strings at that time and let go of it in 1963.

My first electric guitar with the Camel was a used Danelectro that I painted Black and Midnight Blue. I used a fuzztone and a Fender Twin amp and that was about it for the beginning Camel. I had a Gretsch Country Gentleman for a while and then got a Gibson at a hock shop on tour. I was looking for a Les Paul but could only find a Melodymaker. I had it reworked with Schallers and humbucking pickups but it never sounded as good as the Les Paul I now own which I got in payment for helping record my friend Marty Rainone (who eventually went to Nashville to write country songs for a publishing house).

Nowadays, since becoming a devotee of the Roland VS recorders, I use the built-in effects that are on the effects cards in the unit. I record myself dry if I want to have the freedom to change my sound later or wet if I really like the sound I have created on the amp simulator and want to keep it. There is so much control with this system (and no extra noise), I can’t imagine using a stomp box again. Since my direction now seems to be mostly recording and production, I haven’t done a lot of playing lately. The last playing I did was with William, the rhythm guitarist from the Camel who had written some songs he wanted to record. He sang some parts he wanted played as lead guitar parts and I interpreted them as faithfully as I could. They were pretty unusual as I remember. It was fun to play again but it took quite a bit of practice to get my calluses back to the point where it wasn’t down right painful to play all those bent notes. I ended up recording the part in pieces (thanks to auto punch on my recorder) because it would have taken me forever to memorize the part and then play it flawlessly.

Your perspective on the spiritual aspects of music would be of much interest. Would you talk a bit about this?
The term spiritual has a couple different connotations to me. I like to think of spiritual as meaning “of the soul” as in “a reflection of the inherent nature of”, or something close to our essence (our God-like nature). In this way, I think of improvisation of any type of music as being a spiritual aspect of music. It reflects the way our soul is feeling at that particular moment. The playing of music itself, especially improvised music, is a language of the soul. It speaks directly from soul to soul without the filter of words to cloud or color the meaning. In this definition of spiritual I think of any music as spiritual.

Another way of thinking of spiritual for me is the Bajans or chanting music from the East that is performed to communicate to the celestial beings in a Hindu temple in one’s shrine room. These songs and their intent take me to a place in the mind that is meditative, peaceful and serene. They are repetitive and non intellectual, unlike a lot of Western music.

Were there any non-musical influences that effected your playing / writing?
The only non-musical influence that I am really aware of that affected my playing was the spiritual teaching that I received. I found myself making mental pop arrangements of the ancient Bajans that we chanted in the temple. After many years, I finally tried the arrangements I had in my head, and they didn’t sound as good as I expected them to. The synthesizer sounds just didn’t make it with that kind of music. However, the native instruments played in an inventive way was much more pleasing.

What is your perspective on having one short chapter in your life become a big part of a defining moment, musically and culturally, of an entire generation and many who followed?
I had never considered that what I did had any impact on anyone outside of the members of the group. Really this is news to me. I just shows me how limited my perspective has been, or that I have had my head in the clouds (or in the sand). I am humbled to hear that what was created at that time has had an impact or been revered by any one.

To what do you credit your survival of the era?
I credit my survival of the era to the fact that I met my Guru and was directed to self-inquiry. From that encounter , I was given tools to shape my life, where before I felt like a small boat tossed around on a stormy sea.

What recent music moves you, and what's been in your CD player recently?
Since I’ve been working on recording and mixing a CD for the past year, the only music that’s been in my CD player recently has been The Tom Huebner Band’s latest mix or more recently the mastered version. It’s interesting to note how many times we thought we were going to be done and then heard something that could be improved upon. We are taking our time and getting it as good as we can because there is no external pressure like a deadline or budget. It’s my studio and we’ve agreed to put in as much time as is needed to get the best product we can.

When do you feel the psychedelic era started and what caused it?
I feel the psychedelic era started when acid and other mind-expanding drugs became popular with young urban people in or around 1966. That is my recollection, being in San Francisco at that time.

When do you feel the psychedelic era ended and what caused it?
I feel the psychedelic era ended when Jimi Hendrix died. It was sort of like there was never going to be a better psychedelic guitarist than he was and he took it as far as he could go. I feel like blues took over after he died.

Let's talk life-changing musical moments. Mine were hearing the first Blue Cheer album at 13, seeing the Allman Bros. in Mansfield, MA 1998 (Dickie Betts was still with them) under a starry sky, and a few times onstage where I felt disconnected and ethereal and the music was really happening. You?
Mine was hearing Cream for the first time in Max’s Kansas City (a restaurant in New York City) when the Camel went there to become stars like our predecessors, the Loving Spoonful (we had the same producer). I had never heard electric guitar played like that before. It sounded like a violin or some other organic unfretted instrument, the way Eric Clapton played. It blew me away. We later played on the same bill at the Fillmore with his band and he was astounding in person. It also helped that he was so loud with a stack of Marshall amps! Another was hearing Good Vibrations by the Beach Boys when it first came out. Incredible! And then Sergeant Peppers. That was equally incredible!

Any core nuggets of life philosophy you'd like to share?
It’s been my observation (as well as my spiritual training) that what goes around, comes around. So my conclusion is that the wisest thing to do it is to be as kind and considerate as you can to everyone you meet because you surely want to be treated that way by others. I know I do.

Another thing I’ve found out the hard way is that personal progress only comes with tiny, consistent steps. Any time I thought I was going to accomplish something big over night, I found myself back at where I started in no time. And every time I just gave up the concept of accomplishing something big, and instead, slowly and ploddingly attended to every task to be done as it came up, leaving no stone unturned, I found looking back that I had actually accomplished something tangible. It’s the “attending to every detail”, that makes the difference.

The Psychedelic Guitar again offers its gratitude to Nandi for going WAY above and beyond your average interview answers and sharing so much of himself. Wow...

For more information on Nandi Devam/Terry MacNeil and Sopwith Camel, take a gander at the OFFICIAL SOPWITH CAMEL SITE at www.sopwithcamel.com. Special thanks to this site for the Camel-era pics, used here by permission.