Chapter 6
Kinetic Faith
This record would be the turning point for the band. This would be the record
that would begin to escalate us in the public's eye. God was about to move in a
mighty way. When I did not move with him, he would force me to move. He had
moved the prophets in the Old Testament when they refused to do things His way,
and I was no exception. " ... For who hath resisted his will?" (Romans 9:19)
I still did not fully understand what was happening and how God had been shaping
us all these years for this moment. We had three weeks to work Jerry back into
the band and try to write some new tunes. Jerry's drumming was much tighter than
Sean's, and it made the songs come together faster. Against our better judgement,
we reluctantly agreed to use Steve Griffith again as producer. We were assured
that we would not receive the same washed out, over-reverberant sound that we
had got on the last project.
Steve made a one-day trip up from Nashville to conduct a "pre-production
session" with the band. This turned out to be useless and a waste of money. He
wanted to change everything. By the end of the day, we felt as though he was
changing things for the sake of making change. (Later, fans and friends who had
heard the same songs in demo form told us they preferred our versions of the
songs better than the over production of the Griffer.) Star Song picked the Salt
Mine Studio in Nashville as the place we would record and mix.
At this point, we still had no official contract and we went into the studio
unsigned. Scott, however, did his managing thing, and by the second day of the
record we had signed the deal. We brought in Rob Johnson again for some solo
spots upon the request of Dez, who felt uncomfortable with Troy. (I perceived
Dez felt uncomfortable with the whole band.) We were doing everything we could
to develop a relationship with Star Song and to play by the rules. Our ways of
doing things in the past had made us a lot of enemies, and we were determined to
turn our critics into fans.
Steve continued to work against the band, making it difficult to sink into the
session. We were losing motivation because of all of his changes, and we even
had to take a break from recording to sit around a table and draw the songs out
on paper, trying to make sense of all the restructuring. We attributed his
faults to the trail mix he would eat and the fact that he wore gladiator sandals
without socks. (Later I made a rule that no one in the band could wear sandals
without socks.) At one point in the session, Steve's (who was behind the mixing
board) voice became so irritating in my head set calling out instructions that
when Rik hit a bad note on the song I went after HIM.
Rik was locked in an upstairs room with his amp. I literally broke the door down
and began screaming at him to the top of my lungs. I really do not know why I
took my hostility out on Rik when it was really Steve that I wanted a piece of
at the time. After the misunderstanding, Rik took a long walk around the
neighborhood, and later forgave me for my off base hostility.
We all got serious about finishing the record. Once again I was unable to stay
for the mix. I had reservations about leaving Steve the soul commander of the
mix. We had him to pull up some mixes before I left, and it sounded like it was
going to work. Matter of fact, Jerry was really happy with the rough mix drum
sounds.
Days later, when I got the mixes in the mail, I thought my ears were playing
tricks on me. I went from stereo to stereo in the house, and even to the tape
deck in the car, thinking surely to goodness it would sound normal on one system
or the other. However, Steve had ignored our request, and obviously had not
listened to our reference disc we had left with him. It was another washed out
busy mix that even confused me. I remember having to rehearse the songs, trying
to relearn them because they had changed so drastically.
The album was released with mixed reviews. It had a brand new sound that
probably had never been heard on any planet before. Steve was proud we were
annoyed and shocked. Dez even admitted that the mix took him by surprise the
first time he had heard it, but in typical Dez fashion, he tried to smooth
things over by saying that now he was used to it and really liked it.
We toured through the summer off and on, playing some clubs and a handful of
Christian festivals. We were under the microscope the entire summer. There were
the stage hands at the festivals who would sniff my cups that I would throw from
stage, trying to find alcohol. There was the promoter in Florida who went
through our bags looking for incriminating evidence when we left our rooms. I
never understood why promoters were booking us for their shows when they doubted
us, and, evidently, were waiting for us to make a mistake.
Jerry was still playing part time in the blues band, and, instead of canceling
shows that lapped one another, we used Jerry's friend Max Maxwell for a few of
the shows. Max was a lot of fun and would pull crazy things, but he was not
destructive. He did silly things like placing the patio furniture of a Holiday
Inn Hotel into the swimming pool. Max then parked himself in the chair in the
swimming pool. Max only played a few shows with us, but he was always a blast.
Then there was the nightmare Halloween show at a "nobody coffeehouse" in
Indiana. We played a full-blown show for about 25 homeless people who would have
rather been anywhere but at this show. One block away from the coffee house was
a haunted house that we nicknamed the Haunted Jail, where about 2000 people
lined up for a couple of blocks to get in. Here we were playing in a run down
coffee house for people who were hardly impressed, and right down the street a
core audience who would have loved the heavy metal all lined up to enter a
haunted house.
To this day I am convinced that 90% of the coffee houses that start with the
intention of bringing in bands in the name of Christ have not been so instructed
by the Holy Spirit. The reason I know this is almost every one doesn't survive
the first year. We are thankful, however, to those rare folks who have heard the
voice of God and opened a coffee house who have endured on God's strength.
Another thing that I do not understand is why Bride seemed to always be the
first band that a promoter would ask to play when having a grand opening? This
always spelled disaster.
The next day, we headed to Ohio and the Kings Place. We had heard of the Kings
Place, but knew very little about it. It was a dinner club turned into a
Christian night spot. We were filling in for Bloodgood, who had canceled the
date. We had heard that this was a great place to play and were very excited to
get some miles between us and the "Haunted Jail."
I 70 to Columbus presented the most hazardous rain conditions we have ever
experienced. Road construction narrowed the highway on both sides, and the
monsoon limited visibility to 3 feet and less. Tractor-trailer trucks were out
en force, and their taillights became a beacon for us to follow. These
catastrophic conditions would not halt our forward progress. We had to play a
show to redeem ourselves from the previous night.
When we eventually arrived at the Kings Place, there were people that had been
standing in the freezing rain 4 hours before the show. We went out after sound
check and talked to them. Before the doors opened, the crowd had grown and
snaked its way around the building. We asked Ron, the fellow who ran the room,
if he thought they were under the impression that Bloodgood was playing? We were
trying to justify such a huge crowd. Ron said he announced weeks back that
Bloodgood had canceled, and that this crowd was there to see us.
This was the loudest crowd we had ever played to. Even before we began it was
hard to think backstage because of the noise. One thousand plus were squashed
into the room. We had a few hecklers there in the beginning, and Ron forcibly
removed them before we began the show. (There seems to always be someone in the
crowd who is against Christian Rock.) The night was a great success.
We were very hard on ourselves in those days, and gauged our successes by each
performance. If we had a good night we were on top of the world, but if the
night was a failure we basically looked at the band as a failure. We were
beginning to feel like we might be gaining ground again, and we were waiting for
the shows to keep rolling in. But, after 5 albums under our belts, we were still
struggling to get dates. This gave us plenty of time to write for the next
record.
Then the talk of doing a real tour surfaced with a phone call from Jeff Moseley,
the VP at Star Song. There was talk of 20 to 25 dates across the U.S. with the
kings of Christian metal, Stryper! We knew Stryper was on their last leg, but we
also knew that their draw would dwarf ours at least by double.
Negotiations between Moseley and Stryper's booking agent John Huey went on for
weeks. Nothing was being decided, and we were being left out of the talks. Scott
Hall, our manager, tried to call Huey, but never got a call back. Troy was
trying to arrange his work schedule, but everything seemed tentative. Huey kept
changing dates through faxes, and the tour was dwindling in its size.
We continued writing new material in this time period, and working out a thirty
minute set for the tour. We felt like the under dog boxer who was asked to fight
the champ. We knew we must work hard if we did not want to get blown off the
stage. We had been prepped the entire year for bigger and better things. Now it
was a waiting game.
Earlier in the year, we had been honored by SESAC at a big formal dinner where
we met Gary Chapman. Chapman had heard of us, which made us feel important. Troy
and I played a song writers' showcase during this week with the likes of John
and Dino Elephante, Bruce Carroll, Wayne Watson and Steven Curtis Chapman (who
later told Troy that his wife liked our song the best of the evening).
Twila Paris performed, and said that she had written her song while washing
dishes. When I got up to perform "Everybody knows my name," I said I had written
it while washing dishes. Twila replied it must have been awfully hot water. We
were the first metal band to play t-pac during GMA week. After our blistering
set, we were interviewed on stage by Wayne Watson.
Before this blazing performance, back in the dressing room, I had noticed Rik
and Jerry acting peculiar. I could not take it any longer. I had to ask why they
were behaving oddly. Jerry responded, "you know why." He was angry about
something, and I was supposed to know what it was all about, but I did not have
a clue. Dez had walked into the dressing room at this time, and, knowing that
things were about to heat up between band members, I asked Dez to leave. I think
he knew something was up by the static in the air when he walked in, because he
just turned and exited.
Jerry and Rik's problem was the fact that they had attended a SESAC ceremony
with us the day before, and the ceremony was to honor Troy and I as songwriters.
Jerry and Rik were not honored, and had to sit and watch us receive these
awards. Up until this time, I was still unsure of Jerry and Rik's status in the
band. After all the trouble we had in the past with band members leaving, I felt
as though Troy and I were Bride. Jerry and Rik felt, even though their names
were not on some of the songs as songwriters, they should have received credit.
I thought this was the worst time to be discussing something like this, knowing
that we would be performing shortly. After a heated conversation, we finally
decided that any songs written in the future would be scrutinized thoroughly to
give everybody credit where credit was due. I just did not want them thinking
that I was making lots more money than they were. Former band members in the
past had thought that Troy and I were getting rich while they made no money. The
fact was, Troy and I were putting our own money into the band daily to keep it
afloat.
Jerry and Rik never saw my true dedication to the band and the hours that I
would put into it away from everyone. My phone conversations with the press and
radio, having to deal with the record company and answering all the letters
personally that came into Bride's mail room (that being Troy's bedroom). Now
looking back, I can see their point as to why it seemed that Troy and I were
receiving all of the attention, but this was not our doing. It was Star Song's
bright idea to leave Jerry and Rik out of everything from certain artist
showcases, to the cover of Kinetic Faith and even promotional ads.
The food fights
A long time ago, on an interstate far, far away ...
We would get bored on some of the longer trips. Seemed like the Midwest highways
went on for miles on end with no end in sight. We found a way to break the
boredom. Troy's wife, Michelle, was one of those mild mannered people who had a
camouflaged streak of meanness in her. Coming from a show one evening, we were
on the way back to our hotels.
Troy was driving our van, with Michelle on the passenger's side, and myself in
the rear seat. Rik was driving the second van. Michelle motioned by waving her
hand out of the window for Rik to pull alongside of our van. We had just left a
little ice cream shop where Michelle had ordered a cone too large to eat. As Rik
paralleled our van his window came down ... and that is when Michelle tossed her
cone, half full of ice cream, into their van like a grenade. It exploded all
over Rik, into his hair and all over his clothes.
This was the beginning of the Van Wars.
Coming from Olathe, KS, heading for Bartlesville, OK, we had been driving like
red barons. Jerry nearly took the front of our van off as they bombed us with
food and sped around us. He was driving and hanging out the window as they
passed, and he looked a bit crazy, and his driving was even worse. We stopped at
a country restaurant where we filled up on gas, and Troy went to their kitchen
and secretly bought a dozen eggs for ammunition. The war continued on the road,
Jerry and Rik being hit with accurate bombing from Troy's deadly arm.
These wars were taking place on major interstates at speeds of 70 and 80 mph,
slowing only long enough to let the enemy get close enough to launch a surprise
attack. Apples, oranges, candy bars, even shortening was tossed, but we never
littered trash (only biodegradable substances). While riding shotgun, Jerry was
the triggerman for the second van. His aim had been off, and somewhere he had
gotten his hands on some eggs. I guess the excitement got to him. We saw them
behind us, gaining! Jerry was preparing the onslaught when the egg he was
holding exploded in his hands. Rik demoted him immediately to the back seat, and
Vince, our roadie, took the gunner's seat.
Finally, we had to stop at a car wash to try to get the egg off the vans before
it ate away the paint. Most of it came off, but even with hard pressure from the
car wash, we were unable to get it all off. The hot Mid-western sun had baked it
on. We made an egg truce and promised no more egg attacks for the sakes of the
rental vans.
We did a very successful in-store appearance in Bartlesville at a bookstore,
where so many people showed up that some were turned away. This was a
promotional appearance before the main show that evening at The Warehouse. The
Warehouse was run by Tim Cook, and, in the past few months, had really grown
into a great place for bands to play. After the in-store, we all were walking
back to our vans, and I was about to step into the van when I felt a thump
against my leg. It was an egg!
Jerry had launched a minor attack and had broken the seize-fire truce. I
pretended to ignore this assault, and we climbed into the vans and went to the
hotel. We had eggs left over that we had not thrown, so Troy and I devised a
plan. We loaded ourselves down and went to the room where Jerry, Rik and Vince
were staying. I knocked on the door, and Jerry asked, "Who is it?"
"It's Dale. Open the door, I want to talk to you about a couple things I forgot
to tell you." I replied. Jerry eased the door open, and he had it latched with a
chain inside, being apprehensive. "What do you really want?" he asked with a big
grin. His tone of voice was uneasy and cautious. We heard Rik say, "They're
pulling something. Don't you open that door, Jerry." Jerry chuckled and said,
"What do you guys want?"
"I told you. We need to sit down and discuss some things about tonight, and how
we want the show to go, and things like that," I responded, trying to sound as
honest as I could. I knew if I could get him to unlatch the door that they would
be easy pickin's in that tiny hotel room. I also assumed that they had no way to
defend themselves. Rik at this point, who was on the other side of the room,
begged Jerry to close the door, but for some reason Jerry's curiosity
overwhelmed him, and the door latch was undone. I think he had planned just to
peak out a little more to see what we were up to, but he was no match for my
upper body strength and Troy's basketball playing legs.
We pushed the door open. Jerry went backward into the wall. He took two direct
missiles right on top the head and sunk like a worn fighter without defense to
the floor. Rik leaped to his feet and said, "Man, I didn't have anything to do
with it!" Before he could finish his last word, he was carpet bombed. Vince
stood in the corner helplessly. I started for a moment to spare him, but let
loose one hard throw that hit the wall behind him and splattered on him anyway.
Troy and I exited like jungle soldiers, knowing we had won the war. From in our
room we heard Rik yelling at Jerry, "I told you not to open that door!"
This is just another example of when you leave men alone unsupervised and they
become little boys. No one was mad, and we all got a big laugh out of the ordeal
later.
Star song felt like, at this time, it was expedient to prepare the band for big
things, so they gave us the name of a guy, Dave Kelly, who was supposed to know
everything about anything in the music business. We drove down to Nashville,
where we had our $35.00 an hour meeting. Dave did not think that the Stryper
tour would do a thing for us. He felt, because Stryper was on their way down,
that it might hurt us. He also said something that made us think he was crazy.
He advised that we leave Star Song, that they could not do a thing for us.
At this point, we just could not see what he was talking about. Dave was right
on with the Star Song suggestion, as we would find out later they could not take
us where we knew we needed to go. The Stryper tour, however, would launch us
into another plateau that we could not have done on our own at this point.
We really were not aware of the supernatural forces of God working in our lives
at this time. The Lord had been molding us and shaping us all along. He was
working in us to bring us to a place of maturity. His will and thoughts were
being exercised in our lives daily, and we were somewhat oblivious to this.
(Rom.9:11-26; Isa.55:9; Job 37, 11:7; 2 Cor. 3:5.) More often than naught, we
hindered His will by not obeying or not seeing Him when He appeared.
God was always in control of our lives. His omniscient Spirit is always present,
and ever proceeding in a patient, creative, efficient manner towards its
determined consummation. Even time itself is confined within the realm of God's
own will (Rev. 1:8; Eccl. 31,17; 8:6; Acts 17:26; Heb. 11:3; Gal.4:4). We would
soon discover that we were fulfilling God's plan in our lives. The unregenerate
and carnal man is but a prisoner (Psa.102:19-20;
68:18) of his own thoughts and his own self will. The Lord was taking us through
rehabilitation for His grander purposes.