TIDAK APA: MY FIRST BAND IN MALAYSIA, 1982

TIDAK APA: MY FIRST BAND by RJ Furth

I've often heard stories of first high school bands, even first middle school bands, and as a teacher I was fortunate to often hear the raw glory of young people performing for the first time on a stage. Unusually, I joined my first band when I was 30. (I did play trombone in the middle school band, a very different thing.) I had learned harmonica at20 and guitar at 21, and occasionally jammed with people. It wasn’t until I moved to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, that I became a member of Tidak Apa.

I was fortunate to work with Steve Takacs, a fellow Social Studies teacher who was new in K.L. Steve happened to be a terrific musician who brought his collection of instruments including a pedal steel guitar. I went over to Steve's once a week where we both played acoustic versions of Eagles and The Cars and other late 70s and early 80s bands. Steve's wife Roz was learning bass and she's play along, though so softly that I suspected her amp wasn't turned on. We eventually discovered that three other faculty members had been jamming together, mainly doing folk type tunes. Chip Barder, middle school principal, and Ron Dowty, sixth grade teacher, played guitar and sang, while high school English teacher Patty Buck sang. Somehow (probably Chip who was an organizer) got us all together and we started playing once a week. Steve played pedal steel and I played harmonica, and we mostly covered light rock and country, and a lot of songs from the recently released soundtrack of Urban Cowboy.

Like other faculty bands I would play with in Japan and, years later, back in Malaysia, we played staff parties and the occasional private party. Drunk teachers and parents make an appreciative audience. Our big coup was when we were contacted by a Chinese Malaysia couple who had visited the States, fallen in love with American food and music, and opened a steak house in K.L. Our band, Tidak Apa, (Malay for 'it doesn't matter' or 'whatever') played in exchange for beer and dinner. It was a great deal for us, as we would have played for free. I think the owners hoped that families from our school would make their restaurant a success, though that never happened.

I've been in a lot of bands since: faculty bands, student-faculty bands, bands with no ties to schools at all. They have all been fun, though some introduced me to the dark side of being in a band: arguing over what to play, complaints about drummers and lead guitarists who played too loudly. I've made lifelong friends in bands and quit others when I could no longer stand my fellow band mates. It doesn't matter when you join your first band; it's an experience you never forget.

P.S. Chip and Ron both went on to be headmasters of international schools in Russia, Kenya, and Vietnam, among other places. Steve has lived in Beijing for over 20 years and is a well known pedal steel player among Chinese music fans. Chip, Ron and I performed in K.L, at our school's 50 anniversary celebration two years ago. Steve was unable to join us because of hip surgery. That happens when young musicians become old musicians.

Bloom High School Battle of the Bands 1967

We were allowed fifteen minutes for the battle, which means 3-4 songs. We chose the soul number "Knock On Wood"; the Beatles' "With A Little Help From My Friends", one of our best tunes; and "Purple Haze". We didn't play either of the songs from our 45 because we wanted popular tunes that would galvanize the audience. Slow love songs and pop tunes were rejected. A large cheering section showed up, including a bunch of freshmen girls who were dropped off by their parents. (Steve Crosse remembers dating a few of those freshman, a side benefit of being in The Moving Violation.) Lee had urged us to pack the battle with our fans and supporters, so Lee and I went to the library during our free periods (I didn't waste too much of my school time actually studying) and chatted up freshmen girls, encouraging them to show up for the battle. Everybody had seen the Beatles and Stones on TV, and had witnessed hordes of girls going berserk. That's what we were hoping for, and that's what we got. Our cheering section went wild when we played, which may have beneficially influenced the judges. To be fair, I have to give most of the credit to Lee. He wasn't in it for the money, Lee was driven to make a career in the music industry, which he did. He didn't try to influence our song selection or personnel or playing style; it was the business end, the recording and promotion, that gave him a thrill. Lee Abrams was an innovator who would later be credited with creating the album orient rock format―AOR―that transformed FM radio. We also liked hanging out with Lee; he was a fun guy who brought great energy.

Not only did we wear uniforms―which was about to become seriously uncool in rock and roll―we also arranged synchronized moves for Purple Haze.  Although choreographed dance moves was not a pop thing, it was a standard part of Motown. Chicago has, of course, a huge African-American population and the entire city―black and white―was very much into Motown and soul: The Four Tops, The Temptations, The Supremes, The Jackson Five, James Brown. All these groups used synchronized dance steps and it must have rubbed off on us. Purple Haze was our big number and we started the song with everybody kneeling on their right knee; the three guitar players in front of Mike's drums, the two singers in the front line. As the song starts with its familiar guitar riff, each guitar player jumped to his feet, one at a time, followed by the singers, also one at a time. We also employed some funky moves, including one where the two singers shuffled to their right while the three guitarists shuffled in unison to their left. Pretty cool.