A semi-legendary dump of a rock club
I don’t recall meeting Falling Stairs, but it was probably at The Right Track Inn, a semi-legendary dump of a rock club in Freeport, Long Island. The Right Track was well past its prime, typically hosting shitty hair metal bands or minor rock stars on the B-sides of their careers. A local Grateful Dead tribute band was huge (Long Island is a hotbed of Deadheads). My friend Jon was the house sound guy and I was probably filling in for him or just hanging around as the late-80s were…well…let’s just say I had a lot of free time.
Falling Stairs did not fit The Right Track vibe, which is exactly why I liked them. Falling Stairs sounded like they listened to the same records I did – REM, The Replacements, Ramones, X, The Dolls. They were funny and loud and smart. They were not another shitty metal band (although Charlie sometimes boasted suspiciously long hair). Most important, they had really good songs. They understood how to write a hook, which was not common back then.
Anyway, we got to be friends. We hung out. I was a bit older and had a little experience in recording studios. At some point, Falling Stairs wanted to make a record and asked if I would help. Water Music in Hoboken was booked. The only thing I requested was that they drive me back and forth to the studio, as I didn’t want to take trains in the middle of the night. I guess my fee was right.
In the studio, I played some guitar and melodica because…well…I really wanted to be in the band. Every time I heard their songs, I felt like I was 14. I wanted to jump around and play air guitar. They did not need me to play along but kindly tolerated it and we actually got a cool, liquid rhythm guitar sound on cuts like A HAPPY MAN and MAD (for guitar nerds, I used an open tuning to create a bunch of ringing harmonics against Charlie’s barre chords and we played at the same time through two amps tilted against each other in the hallway. It was glorious).
The high point of mixing at Water Music came when bassist John McGrath leaned over and carefully explained “I want the highs on the bass to be kind of high and lows to be really low and the mids to be…ummmm…” “In the middle?” I suggested. “Yeah!”
The band self-released THAT AND A QUARTER and we did some more recording, including a terrific live demo session on the stage of the Right Track Inn which the band compiled into a cassette called I-800-HOT BIRD. Eventually, I got a day job and Falling Stairs went to Boston to record at Fort Apache. That was smart. The sounds coming out of Fort Apache were a sonic match and it makes me wonder what might have been had Falling Stairs moved to Boston during that scene’s heyday.
Like 10 billion other indie bands from the 80s and 90s, Falling Stairs toured, released records, imploded, and vanished. No shame there. For a few years, they made some beautiful noise, wrote awesome songs and had fun doing it. Most people endure entire lives without ever accomplishing anything as creatively satisfying as playing in a great band with their friends.
I had not listened to these tracks for 30 years until Charlie told me about this project. I clicked PLAY and instantly, I was 14 again, thrashing along on air guitar, singing the words to every chorus. I remembered it all. It is a testament to the quality of the songs how these recordings stand up decades later. Even though nobody has requested it, I want to mention here that I am available to play rhythm guitar should Falling Stairs do any reunion gigs. The only thing I ask is that somebody drive me back and forth to the gig. I might need to borrow an amp too.
Thanks for letting me part of this,
Rich Grula, June 2023