Minnesota recently had an audition to replace the retiring Ross Tolbert. Steve Campbell won that job.
Speaking of which, does anyone know what is happening with the Colorado and Milwaukee jobs now that Steve is presumably playing in Minnesota?
Ross Tolbert?
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Scott Sutherland
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Tom
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Try here: http://www.philorch.org/styles/poa02e/w ... oster.htmlharold wrote:Look at the Philadelphia website - no tubist at all.
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TubaRay
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arnuphal
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For those that are interested, I found this on the Insurgent Country website. Seems to be an article from the American-Statesman in Austin about Sumner's brother and perhaps may shed some light as to why he left the symphony. The website for the trust mentioned in the article is: http://www.rokyerickson.net/trust.html
Tuesday, June 19
Out of the darkness
By Andrea Ball
American-Statesman Staff
Tuesday, June 19, 2001
That voice.
Roky Erickson's life has been about that bluesy, soulful, acrobatic voice.
They called the Austinite the father of psychedelic music, a '60s musical
genius who could tackle the stylings of any artist: Elvis Presley, Little
Richard, Buddy Holly, James Brown. He wrote songs, played guitar and
hypnotized crowds with his banshee wail and vocal gymnastics. He seemed
destined to become a big-name rock star with big-time money.
He didn't. Instead, schizophrenia, drugs and bad record deals left Roky a
penniless recluse who refused to answer the door of his Austin apartment.
"If there was ever a story in rock 'n' roll where every mistake could be
made, this is it," said Casey Monahan, director of the Texas Music Office.
But Roky's story has a new chapter.
A Travis County judge recently declared Roky's brother his legal guardian.
The Austin musician is taking anti-psychotic medication and receiving badly
needed dental care. Supporters are planning benefit concerts for him. And
Roky may soon receive a financial settlement in an 11-year lawsuit over the
rights to his music.
"Roky is ready for great, beautiful things in his life," said Sumner
Erickson, 39, Roky's brother and newly appointed legal guardian.
Roger Kynard Erickson was born in Dallas on July 15, 1947, the eldest of
five boys. His mother, Evelyn, was an amateur classical singer. His father,
Roger, was an architect.
To avoid confusion between the two Rogers, the Ericksons nicknamed their son
Roky (pronounced Rocky), combining the first two letters of his first and
middle names.
Roky -- who could not be reached for this story -- harvested his musical
talent in his family's South Austin home, learning piano and guitar at a
young age. As a teen-ager, he moved into the local music scene.
In 1965, Roky helped found what many consider the world's first psychedelic
band -- The 13th Floor Elevators. With Roky's piercing screams and a
blues-rock sound that defied labeling, the group made a splash.
"When he was with the Elevators, everybody realized there was something
coming around the corner that they had never seen before," said Speedy
Sparks, a longtime friend who co-produced one of Roky's records.
The Elevators broke into the Billboard 100 in 1966 with the single, "You're
Gonna Miss Me," from their first album, "The Psychedelic Sounds of the 13th
Floor Elevators." Young musicians such as Jerry Garcia and Grace Slick
watched them play. Janis Joplin jammed with them twice and almost joined the
group.
Roky was living the ultimate rock 'n' roll lifestyle, and with it came a
drug habit. Acid, mushrooms, marijuana. Roky did it all, saying it fueled
his creative juices.
But, in some ways, he was still the same old Roky, said Sumner Erickson. One
time, Roky strolled into his mother's house wearing green and purple striped
pants -- then presented 4-year-old Sumner with a miniature pair of his own.
"My brother, the high priest of psychedelia, bought me a pair of pants like
his," Sumner Erickson said.
After the Elevators' second album, "Easter Everywhere," the band lost
direction. They broke up for good in late 1968. And by 1969, Roky's drug
habit had caught up with him.
He was arrested on Mount Bonnell with several marijuana joints. It was his
second pot bust, and jail time seemed certain. But rather than serve a short
prison sentence, Roky pleaded insanity.
He was sent to Rusk State Hospital for the Criminally Insane in Rusk.
Doctors gave him Thorazine and other mood-stabilizing drugs. They
administered electroshock therapy.
Road to reclusion
In 1972, at the age of 24, Roky emerged from the state hospital a different
man, difficult to relate to, harder to understand, Sumner Erickson said.
Over the next two decades, he married and divorced twice and fathered three
children: Spring, Jegar and Cydne. He wrote, toured and recorded on small
record labels. He wrote intensely moving ballads and hard-rock songs
inspired by horror films. But his productivity ebbed and flowed, depending
on his mental state and whether he stayed on his prescribed medication.
Critics lauded his work, and a cultish following adored him. Bands such as
ZZ Top and R.E.M. called him an inspiration, a musical genius who never
received the fame he deserved.
Or the money. Bad business deals left Roky living in government-subsidized
housing, scraping by with monthly Social Security benefits checks of less
than $200.
"There is a misconception that artists who make a lot of records make a lot
of money," said Monahan of the Texas Music Office, who also produced an
album with Roky in the mid-1990s. "The real money comes from touring, and
Roky doesn't tour."
By the late 1980s, after another stint in a state mental hospital, Roky's
mental state had deteriorated. His hair grew wild and bushy, his beard
became scraggly. He wouldn't shower and didn't like to be touched. He would
turn on four or five television sets at a time, some blasting only static.
He refused to open his front door for anyone other than his mother, who
brought him food and clean clothes.
Roky's family bickered about his care. Some thought he should be on
medication to help him live more independently.
"Personally, I was concerned about what would happen to Roky if mom wasn't
around," said Mikel Erickson, Roky's brother.
Roky's mother, Evelyn Erickson, says she never stopped her son from taking
medication -- but she never approved of it, either.
"I would rather see the psychiatrists use methods more humane, more
holistic, like yoga," she testified at a recent court hearing.
Sumner Erickson was worried. Rocky was a 53-year-old, overweight smoker with
rotting teeth and a family history of heart trouble and strokes. In January,
Sumner Erickson applied to become Roky's legal guardian.
"I want the best for my brother, including the best modern medicine," Sumner
Erickson said.
A new beginning
On a recent May evening, Sumner Erickson and a mental health deputy arrived
at Roky's Austin apartment with a court order to admit him to Shoal Creek
psychiatric hospital. Roky called his mother and asked her to meet him at
the hospital.
During his two weeks in the hospital, Roky was given anti-psychotic medicine
and received full medical, psychological and dental checkups.
"Severe schizophrenia, untreated for most of his life, causing ongoing
deterioration," a doctor wrote after evaluating Erickson. "Lack of ability
to care for self, poor health, completely incapacitated."
But medication has stabilized him, friends and family members say.
Since his hospitalization, Roky has shown more interest in people and music,
Jegar Erickson, his son, said. He has stopped blaring television sets in his
tiny apartment and flips on only the radio when he comes home. He is clearer
and more lucid.
Mikel Erickson said Roky recently did something he hasn't done in decades:
He stood up, shook his brother's hand and asked about Mikel's three sons.
"It almost brought tears to my eyes," Mikel Erickson said.
On June 11, Travis County Probate Judge Guy Herman named Sumner Erickson his
brother's legal guardian. His main priority: to guide Roky back to physical
and mental health.
But Sumner Erickson also wants to secure his brother's financial future. A
new trust has been established for Roky, and several fund-raising concerts
are being planned. Supporters -- including musician Henry Rollins, film
producer George Romero and artist Jim Franklin -- have agreed to serve on
the board of Roky's trust.
Roky also may receive a financial payoff from a lawsuit over the rights to
his recording and publishing contracts. The court battle, which began in
1990, targets London-based Charley Records. A settlement seems likely within
the next month, said Austin lawyer Rick Triplett.
Now 24-year-old Jegar Erickson wants to get to know his father. For years,
he learned about Roky though other people. He'd heard tales of Roky's drug
days, of his musical genius, of his reclusive ways and mental illness. But
the two couldn't communicate, not really. Not until Roky's stay in the Shoal
Creek hospital.
That's when the pair talked about Jegar's tattoos and his many piercings.
And that's when Jegar, after years of emotional distance, asked his father a
simple question.
"What's your favorite color?"
"Yellow," the music legend answered. "Perhaps green."
Tuesday, June 19
Out of the darkness
By Andrea Ball
American-Statesman Staff
Tuesday, June 19, 2001
That voice.
Roky Erickson's life has been about that bluesy, soulful, acrobatic voice.
They called the Austinite the father of psychedelic music, a '60s musical
genius who could tackle the stylings of any artist: Elvis Presley, Little
Richard, Buddy Holly, James Brown. He wrote songs, played guitar and
hypnotized crowds with his banshee wail and vocal gymnastics. He seemed
destined to become a big-name rock star with big-time money.
He didn't. Instead, schizophrenia, drugs and bad record deals left Roky a
penniless recluse who refused to answer the door of his Austin apartment.
"If there was ever a story in rock 'n' roll where every mistake could be
made, this is it," said Casey Monahan, director of the Texas Music Office.
But Roky's story has a new chapter.
A Travis County judge recently declared Roky's brother his legal guardian.
The Austin musician is taking anti-psychotic medication and receiving badly
needed dental care. Supporters are planning benefit concerts for him. And
Roky may soon receive a financial settlement in an 11-year lawsuit over the
rights to his music.
"Roky is ready for great, beautiful things in his life," said Sumner
Erickson, 39, Roky's brother and newly appointed legal guardian.
Roger Kynard Erickson was born in Dallas on July 15, 1947, the eldest of
five boys. His mother, Evelyn, was an amateur classical singer. His father,
Roger, was an architect.
To avoid confusion between the two Rogers, the Ericksons nicknamed their son
Roky (pronounced Rocky), combining the first two letters of his first and
middle names.
Roky -- who could not be reached for this story -- harvested his musical
talent in his family's South Austin home, learning piano and guitar at a
young age. As a teen-ager, he moved into the local music scene.
In 1965, Roky helped found what many consider the world's first psychedelic
band -- The 13th Floor Elevators. With Roky's piercing screams and a
blues-rock sound that defied labeling, the group made a splash.
"When he was with the Elevators, everybody realized there was something
coming around the corner that they had never seen before," said Speedy
Sparks, a longtime friend who co-produced one of Roky's records.
The Elevators broke into the Billboard 100 in 1966 with the single, "You're
Gonna Miss Me," from their first album, "The Psychedelic Sounds of the 13th
Floor Elevators." Young musicians such as Jerry Garcia and Grace Slick
watched them play. Janis Joplin jammed with them twice and almost joined the
group.
Roky was living the ultimate rock 'n' roll lifestyle, and with it came a
drug habit. Acid, mushrooms, marijuana. Roky did it all, saying it fueled
his creative juices.
But, in some ways, he was still the same old Roky, said Sumner Erickson. One
time, Roky strolled into his mother's house wearing green and purple striped
pants -- then presented 4-year-old Sumner with a miniature pair of his own.
"My brother, the high priest of psychedelia, bought me a pair of pants like
his," Sumner Erickson said.
After the Elevators' second album, "Easter Everywhere," the band lost
direction. They broke up for good in late 1968. And by 1969, Roky's drug
habit had caught up with him.
He was arrested on Mount Bonnell with several marijuana joints. It was his
second pot bust, and jail time seemed certain. But rather than serve a short
prison sentence, Roky pleaded insanity.
He was sent to Rusk State Hospital for the Criminally Insane in Rusk.
Doctors gave him Thorazine and other mood-stabilizing drugs. They
administered electroshock therapy.
Road to reclusion
In 1972, at the age of 24, Roky emerged from the state hospital a different
man, difficult to relate to, harder to understand, Sumner Erickson said.
Over the next two decades, he married and divorced twice and fathered three
children: Spring, Jegar and Cydne. He wrote, toured and recorded on small
record labels. He wrote intensely moving ballads and hard-rock songs
inspired by horror films. But his productivity ebbed and flowed, depending
on his mental state and whether he stayed on his prescribed medication.
Critics lauded his work, and a cultish following adored him. Bands such as
ZZ Top and R.E.M. called him an inspiration, a musical genius who never
received the fame he deserved.
Or the money. Bad business deals left Roky living in government-subsidized
housing, scraping by with monthly Social Security benefits checks of less
than $200.
"There is a misconception that artists who make a lot of records make a lot
of money," said Monahan of the Texas Music Office, who also produced an
album with Roky in the mid-1990s. "The real money comes from touring, and
Roky doesn't tour."
By the late 1980s, after another stint in a state mental hospital, Roky's
mental state had deteriorated. His hair grew wild and bushy, his beard
became scraggly. He wouldn't shower and didn't like to be touched. He would
turn on four or five television sets at a time, some blasting only static.
He refused to open his front door for anyone other than his mother, who
brought him food and clean clothes.
Roky's family bickered about his care. Some thought he should be on
medication to help him live more independently.
"Personally, I was concerned about what would happen to Roky if mom wasn't
around," said Mikel Erickson, Roky's brother.
Roky's mother, Evelyn Erickson, says she never stopped her son from taking
medication -- but she never approved of it, either.
"I would rather see the psychiatrists use methods more humane, more
holistic, like yoga," she testified at a recent court hearing.
Sumner Erickson was worried. Rocky was a 53-year-old, overweight smoker with
rotting teeth and a family history of heart trouble and strokes. In January,
Sumner Erickson applied to become Roky's legal guardian.
"I want the best for my brother, including the best modern medicine," Sumner
Erickson said.
A new beginning
On a recent May evening, Sumner Erickson and a mental health deputy arrived
at Roky's Austin apartment with a court order to admit him to Shoal Creek
psychiatric hospital. Roky called his mother and asked her to meet him at
the hospital.
During his two weeks in the hospital, Roky was given anti-psychotic medicine
and received full medical, psychological and dental checkups.
"Severe schizophrenia, untreated for most of his life, causing ongoing
deterioration," a doctor wrote after evaluating Erickson. "Lack of ability
to care for self, poor health, completely incapacitated."
But medication has stabilized him, friends and family members say.
Since his hospitalization, Roky has shown more interest in people and music,
Jegar Erickson, his son, said. He has stopped blaring television sets in his
tiny apartment and flips on only the radio when he comes home. He is clearer
and more lucid.
Mikel Erickson said Roky recently did something he hasn't done in decades:
He stood up, shook his brother's hand and asked about Mikel's three sons.
"It almost brought tears to my eyes," Mikel Erickson said.
On June 11, Travis County Probate Judge Guy Herman named Sumner Erickson his
brother's legal guardian. His main priority: to guide Roky back to physical
and mental health.
But Sumner Erickson also wants to secure his brother's financial future. A
new trust has been established for Roky, and several fund-raising concerts
are being planned. Supporters -- including musician Henry Rollins, film
producer George Romero and artist Jim Franklin -- have agreed to serve on
the board of Roky's trust.
Roky also may receive a financial payoff from a lawsuit over the rights to
his recording and publishing contracts. The court battle, which began in
1990, targets London-based Charley Records. A settlement seems likely within
the next month, said Austin lawyer Rick Triplett.
Now 24-year-old Jegar Erickson wants to get to know his father. For years,
he learned about Roky though other people. He'd heard tales of Roky's drug
days, of his musical genius, of his reclusive ways and mental illness. But
the two couldn't communicate, not really. Not until Roky's stay in the Shoal
Creek hospital.
That's when the pair talked about Jegar's tattoos and his many piercings.
And that's when Jegar, after years of emotional distance, asked his father a
simple question.
"What's your favorite color?"
"Yellow," the music legend answered. "Perhaps green."