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Geoffrey Brown (gbrhythm@hotmail.com)
Date:Tue 08 Jan 2008 02:53:36 AM EST
Subject:a drummer's best friend
 For a few memorable years in the early ‘90s, I had the privilege of playing with Drew—he on bass, myself on drums—in what was to become the most formative musical experience of my life. The Monster Band was a potent funk/rock group formed in Hartford, CT by Ramon (Ray) Morant. As the rhythm section in that band, Drew and I were inextricably bound by the forces that all drummers and bass players share—a secret world of pulsating rhythm, hypnotic movement, and sensual sound. Hundreds of people would come to our shows. They got to watch us, hear us, dance to our music, and frolic in the excitement of it all—but I was the lucky one who got to be the drummer in that rhythm section with Drew. What a rare privilege indeed. Despite the fact that Drew was only a year older than me, he and I were far from similar in most respects—polar opposites in many. Under most circumstances it is unlikely that we ever would have found ourselves in the same room together. And as I reflect back on those years of playing with him, I am struck by the realization that he and I rarely spent any time together alone. There were always band-mates, girlfriends…somebody else around. And yet, on stage, our relationship was as intimate as any I have ever had. Through our instruments, we often made love—in the most real sense of the word. He was my rhythm soul-mate. Drew and I joined The Monster Band within a few weeks of each other. And although we never spoke of what or how to play, from the beginning, from the first few bars of that first song, on the first night of playing together, things simply clicked—in that magical way the defies explanation and is pleasantly beyond words. I still have many of our live shows on tape; I even have the very first show we ever played together. I recently dug up the cassette tape of that night and read what I had written on the jacket, simply, “The Monster Band, at Scarlett’s, with Drew.” Because even then, eighteen years ago on July, 23, 1990 I knew something special was happening. Performing with him gave me the confidence to not only play the drums, but to make music at all. At the time I was inexperienced, shy and self-conscious. But with Drew by my side I became fearless and learned to express myself beyond what I thought I was capable of. His unique mix of laid-back confidence and child-like joy was truly something to behold. Drew’s freedom from inhibition was as intoxicating as it was contagious. Drew could mesmerize audiences with his bass. That mischievous look in his eyes, that irrepressible grin, and a laugh that bathed in the joy of the moment, translated into a style of playing that was, without exaggeration, the talk-of-the-town. Night after night I would bear witness to his extraordinary technique, his signature sound, the depth of his funky groove and his inimitable stage presence. He was a total bad-ass! He was the type of musician that so many others wanted to be. But even more enviable: He was never NOT great. He always played great. Even on the rare occasion when he indulged in a beverage or two…he still played great! I have seen him in the recording studio, on the floor, half asleep, playing on his back, and STILL he played great. And yet not once did I ever hear him speak of his own talent. No self-congratulatory overtures, no comparisons to others—his modesty was humbling. Drew was special…in a special way. He was one of those people who transformed a room by simply being in it. And with his bass in hand, he loomed larger than life. We were very different as people, but none of the differences or difficulties were larger than the love I had for him. We had a deep respect for one another and it made everything else just small stuff. Not that he wouldn’t test my patience at times, however. Drew was, quite simply…Drew. You knew what you were getting and you had to take him on his own terms. After having become one of the most in-demand groups in town, the band eventually came to an end and had decided to go out in style—playing at The Sting, the biggest club around. But as show time grew closer, where was Drew? He had completely missed sound-check, wasn’t answering his phone—late again. With time running out we had, out of desperate necessity, begun to make alternate plans. The possibility of having to call on a last minute replacement was becoming more of a reality with each passing moment. And for our farewell show, no less! With NO time to spare, Drew finally sauntered in with his bass slung over his shoulder. And then with the swagger of some old-world explorer about to set off on an adventure, he made his way towards the staging area. When he saw me he flashed me a look that betrayed his tacit admission of once again having tested my faith. But as stressed-out and as infuriated as I was—and Drew could be infuriating (as well as charming beyond words!)—without hesitation I threw my arms around him and told him that I loved him. Because more than anything in the world, I wanted to share the stage with him one last time—to swim in that ocean of unbounded joy and rhythmic bliss. I will always miss you, Drew. And I will always be so very grateful and feel so blessed for the times I got to step into that secret world that a drummer and bass player share. I got to share that world with you! I love you, Drew.

Andrew Stanton (andrew@pixar.com)
Date:Mon 07 Jan 2008 11:52:15 PM EST
Subject:An unforgettable friend.
 I met Drew my freshman year at Hartford University. My interest in guitar playing and album collecting had drawn the attention of a fellow freshman and music lover, Grant Miller. Somehow this soon led to a force of nature, named "Drew", dropping by my dorm room. He immediately started rifling through my album collection. I knew instantly I was being judged: "In the Court of the Crimson King" - check, "Relayer" - check, "Boy" - check, "Dark Side of the Moon" - check... I was passing the test, but barely. It wasn't until he came upon my copy of Midnight Oil's, "10,9,8,7,6,5,4,3,2,1" that he suddenly showed interest. "I don't know these guys. Can I borrow this?" That was it. From then on Drew and I were the best of friends, and I would make daily commutes over to his place in the 'Burbs (the farthest dorm from the school buildings). For the rest of that school year it was an endless stream of album swapping, guitar lick teaching, beer drinking, concert going, etc... Drew's room was nothing but albums, milk crates from floor to ceiling, filled with albums. It seemed that every week for Drew was a thrilling challenge of how he could spend any money he had on records and still manage to eat. Nothing every got Drew down. Nothing. He just had this God-given charm. One night I came by to borrow an XTC album and he somehow convinced me to sew his pants while he quickly showered for a hot date he was late for. You just agreed to most things Drew proposed, because you knew you were in the presence of an exceptional person. It was cool to hang out with Drew -- and he knew it (damn him.) I'm amazed Pete Veru remembers I backed him on our U2 "air band" contest. I remember we won. The crowd went nuts. WE WERE JUST HOLDING BROOMS!! But I knew we were going to win, because Drew was our Bono. How could you miss? I only stayed in Hartford for one year, and then moved on to California, where I've been ever since. I managed to come back a few years after leaving, and that was the last time I saw Drew until 20 years later, when Grant managed to connect us up again at a Gram Parsons' concert in San Francisco (see photos in the gallery). So much had changed over those decades, but it only took minutes for our friendship to fall back in to place. It was a special night. Drew influenced my music listening so much that I pretty much owe my entire musical tastes to him. So much so that I've always had this "Hartford Playlist" saved on my iPod for years, containing all the songs I remember Drew turning me on to in '83/'84. Out of the blue, this past Thursday and Friday I felt an impulse to listen to it on my commute to work. Then Grant called me this Sunday with the horrible news. I don't think that impulse was a coincidence. Thank you, Drew. I miss you.

J. Scott Wynn (extrablues@nyc.rr.com)
Date:Mon 07 Jan 2008 11:33:03 PM EST
Subject:Drew was one cool dude, and that's for real.
 I met Drew through my good friend Jack Grace, when Drew started playing in his band. The first thing that I noticed about Drew was that he was a sincerely friendly guy. I was a bit taken aback by this because it's not often that you meet people in New York City that keep on being friendly to you even after the initial 'hello' and hand shake. They're out there, but few and far between, and Drew was on of those few people. Drew always seemed like he was really glad to see you, and always positive. I can't remember a time when he didn't say 'hello' even if it was from across the room at a noisy bar or if I spotted him during a gig. It's just ironic that a guy that had so much light would be gone so soon. He was a really good guy, he made a big impression on me, and he will be missed.

Cameron Dezen Hammon (cdezenhammon@gpch.org)
Date:Mon 07 Jan 2008 10:10:17 PM EST
Subject:Goodbye Old Friend
  What can be said? Did I ever thank you, any of those late nights at the Lakeside Lounge or Arlene's Grocery as you ground out the 100th cigarette of the night. Did I ever say "Drew Glackin, thank you for believing in my brother, for believing in his music, for getting him started." Did I ever say, "Hey, we don't really have a Dad so it means alot to have you kinda come along side him and support him." I'm sure I didn't. But maybe I did. I've been known to get emotional after a gig and a pint. Well, for what it's worth, I'm saying it now. "Thank you Drew Glackin, for the impact you had on our lives, a handful or years ago, but so critically relevant to all that we've become. Thank you for sharing your time and your gifts with us. We will miss you terribly." I had a dream once about Heaven. And the music that was playing was a duet between Elvis Costello and Debbie Harry. I hope the music of heaven is tickling your eardrums now my friend, and that you are playing along. WE LOVE YOU DREW. Rest in peace.

Mike Hotchkiss (mikehotch@hotmail.com)
Date:Mon 07 Jan 2008 09:18:02 PM EST
Subject:Drew nee Andy
 Holy Crap! I got a voice mail from Peter Veru - whom, like "Drew" - I haven't heard from in just short of a 1/4 century. Time does pass to quickly and, unfortunately, it often takes a tragedy to bring old friends together. After an engaging and reminiscing discussion with Pete, a flood of memories came back to me at my days at U-HA and the brethren that was (and still is) "Stowe Beach". Andy - sorry, I will always remember him that way - was one of the true great people I got to know during my brief 2 years at Camp U-HA. I recall late night sit-arounds with Andy playing his classical guitar and being mesmorized by his talent (albeit often chemically enhanced). Dude, you were the first guy I ever knew who had a Guiness. Thank you, because now a pint of that lucious black brew is one of my favorite things to enjoy. While we never remained in contact after to my defection to the skiing Mecca of the the Rocky Mountains,I will never, ever have a better time than '82-83 with you and the rest of the Stowe boys. We are already planning a reunion of the Glackin faithful and we will be sure to raise a glass (or 2 or3 or...) in your memory. So many great memories of the past with you my friend. I will have to be content in sharing them with all of us who got to know and love you for the whack job, talented bastard that you were. Even if the time has been great between our last encounter, your memory shall live on. Peace my friend....Mike

Li'l Drew Glackin (Drew's nephew) (@tglackin@bloomsburyschool.org)
Date:Mon 07 Jan 2008 08:17:46 PM EST
Subject:Drew Glackin
 My uncle had to be the funnest man on earth.I think if we made him go to the doctors he would be fine.Its boring without him.If he was ok we would celebrate til we die.I am so sad and shocked=0 =( He was to young to die!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! R.I.P Uncle Drew we're gonna miss ya so much.

Charles Dubé (radiosong@verizon.net)
Date:Mon 07 Jan 2008 03:41:24 PM EST
Subject:Remembrance of Drew
 I first met Drew sometime around 1984-5 when he was going with a roommate of my then girlfriend at UHA. As Pete Veru relates, a tall, skinny guy with long scraggly hair and a lovable smile. When visiting the womens' apartment, there was often a chance that Drew would be there, & we'd chat- mostly about music. I was an art student, and would often see Drew crashing the infamous alcohol soaked art school parties where he was more than welcomed. Sometime around this period we developed a ritual where whenever we'd bump into each other, Drew would pick up my 5'5" frame in a great big bearhug. Pete Veru's mentioning of the Monsterband brought back a flood of memories of the Hartford music scene around this time. Throughout the years I attended many of Drew's performances, whether with Monsterband, Mr. Right or someone's jazz jam session. During the late 80's and into 1990, Drew sat in on some recording sessions that I was working on with Leigh Gregory and Jim Chapdelaine. It was all very impromptu, with Drew jumping on the train and punching in the right lines accordingly. He had a great ear and I learned from just watching him. But despite his musical capabilities, which no doubt were stellar, I'll always remember Drew as the fun loving playful guy that he was. I looked forward to running into him "one of these days" in the city. After his move to NYC we only exchanged phone calls a few times and I watched from the sidelines as he grew into prominence. I am deeply saddened by this turn of events and my heartfelt condolences go to all of his friends, bandmates and family. He was a most unique person and will certainly be greatly missed. Whenever I hear The Band's "The Weight", I'm sure to feel a pang in my heart.

Mark Mainland (markmainland@hotmail.com)
Date:Mon 07 Jan 2008 02:32:21 PM EST
Subject:He will be missed
 I’m not sure exactly when I first met Drew, but know it was soon after I moved to NYC in 2001. It was probably at a gig with Tandy or Jack Grace. We had a mutual photographer friend that introduced us. I was instantly blown away by his musicianship. His lap steel playing was from another planet. Just incredible. But beyond technique, his sincere love and passion for playing radiated from his being, both onstage and off. I can’t claim to have been that close with him, but I have to say that each time I saw him at a show, he greeted me warmly as an old, true friend. We’d have a beer, and talk about music, which being a guitarist/bass player myself, is my favorite topic of conversation. When I started playing bass in a band a few years ago, he always wanted to hear how it was going. You could tell that he just lived and breathed music. He had an amazing spirit, and was a genuine person. He will truly be missed. My thoughts and prayers go out to his family and friends. RIP Drew.

Pete Veru (pete@feathermerchants.com)
Date:Mon 07 Jan 2008 01:54:18 PM EST
Subject:Drew Glackin 1963-2008
 I knew Drew Glackin for 26 years. For those that only knew him in Hartford or in NYC, I hope this helps you fill in the blanks of Drew’s transformation into a first class musician. He really was one of a kind and I’m going to miss him terribly. I first met Drew in 1981 when we were both freshman at the University of Hartford. We lived in Stowe house, which was the last of the all male dorms on campus and it was scheduled to go co-ed the following year. As a result the guys in that entire dorm were close. We did everything together. Everyone was on the same page. Drew wasn’t even Drew back then. We called him Andy or Andrew. He was a skinny kid with glasses, long hair and a ridiculous laugh that you could hear in Massachusetts. It often arrived way before he did. He also had to have imported beer. Every time we would have a party, someone would say, “go ask Andy what kind of beer he wants” and we’d always get a quarter keg of whatever that was. He also knew everything there was to know about music. My own musical awareness came about when I met Drew. We would sit around and listen to records until we wore them out. Discipline by King Crimson was played at least twice a day. Yes, Genesis, U2, Jeff Beck, everything you could imagine was on the play list and Drew was the DJ. He was a classical guitar major in the Hartt School of Music and then switched to Jazz Bass but it was clear that he was going to be in a band at U-Ha. Our junior and senior year, we entered an air band contest as U2. Of course, Drew was Bono, I was The Edge and a Haitian student named Stephan Coles was Adam Clayton. The drummer, doing an unbelievable Larry Mullen Jr., drew on a bed sheet this amazing copy of the “War” album cover. That guy’s name was Andrew Stanton and he became one of the founding partners of Pixar Animation. The first gig Drew got involved with was a band called Drastic Change. A keyboard player named Jeff Perfeator put the band together and they played covers and some originals on campus and off. I remember that Jeff had a Mohawk. After that he moved on to a band called the Commuters. They had a substantial following in the area and really all over New England. During that time, he met a guy named Jim Chapdelaine who was in his own cover band called Dancing With Henry. The two hit it off and, after the Commuters ended, Jim started a band called Mr. Right, which Drew soon joined with Jim Matus. They were getting a lot of attention and charting on various radio stations. They opened for NRBQ and were getting quite a bit of press. Drew was also playing with a guy named Ray Marantz in a funk band called the Monster Band. I never saw them but I heard they were both good and hilarious. I heard that Drew did a gig in a diaper which I have no problem believing. Drew was also getting good at some roots instruments like mandolin and lap steel and was quickly developing his own style. It was the last Mr. Right gig at Sully’s in West Hartford that I’ll never forget. The first two sets, the band let it all out. It was an amazing night of music. The final set, Drew got drunk. At one point, two local blond groupies who were barely dressed were gyrating in front of Drew. The song they were playing was supposed to end but Jim Chapdelaine kept saying “let’s bring it around one more time.” Finally, when it as over and the girls went back to the bar, Drew said, “excuse me, you’re not dismissed.” The stuff Drew said when he was drunk was poetry. After that Drew’s marriage ended. My brother had moved out and I told Drew that if he wanted to move to NYC that he could stay in my extra room for 6 months or so until he got settled. That turned into seven years. You haven’t lived until you walked into a vintage guitar shop with Drew. He knew everything about the most obscure aspects of pretty much every instrument he came across. He really was an encyclopedia. We were in the Carmine St. guitar shop and Drew sat down to play some lap steel. Two girls walked in and one of them went over to Drew and said “dude, you’re killing me with that thing. What’s your name?” Those two girls were Emily Hofstetler and Michelle Johnston and by the next day, Drew was the lap/mandolin player in a band called Eudora. That was Drew’s first band in NYC. Around the same time I was starting my own band and Drew never hesitated to help out when I asked. I knew nothing about being in a band or running a band and Drew was critical in getting the personnel squared away. He told us to go and make a demo in Hartford with Jim Chapdelaine, which we promptly did. Jim joined the band shortly after and then Jon Peckman followed on drums. Drew told me that his friend Butchy had a band name that he always wanted to see used and that my band would be perfect. We became Feathermerchants shortly after that. During the summers, we’d go out to Long Island and hang out at whatever house I was renting. We’d have huge dinners, get drunk and play till the wee hours of the morning. It was great stuff and I learned a lot from those experiences. Back in NYC, our apartment was becoming a hotbed of musical activity. Drew was getting his name out there and everyone wanted to play with him. Our apartment was a combination rehearsal space and musician flop house. Alex Dezen from the Damwells, Tom Freund, Mike Ferrio, from Tandy, Dusty Roads (no kidding, that was his name), Emily and Michelle from Eudora, Mark Benning from 34 Satellite, Bobby (Memphis) Jordan, Baby Gramps, Audley from the Black Crowes, Walter Salas Humara, Willard Grant Conspiracy, Frog Hollar, Jack Grace and tons more rehearsed, got drunk, stoned and slept on our couches at one time or another. It was an amazing time. Drew’s playing improved dramatically and he was the sideman of choice in the East Village’s roots scene. His playing was incendiary and creative, particularly on lap steel. He played in our house all day. He experimented with his newly found high E tuning. He was bending strings behind the Steven’s Bar and could make it sound like a pedal steel. It was an amazing transformation. He was playing bass, mandolin, steel, tenor guitar, electric six string and mandocello. I remember when he joined Tandy. He loved Mike Ferrio and his songs. Six months after 9/11 I was sitting on my couch when Drew came in and said “get up, Ferrio is coming over and we’re going over to the Union Square to see the re-released version of The Last Waltz.” That night marked the official end of our mourning period over that terrible time. I remember when he played at Black Betty with Malcolm Holcomb. That was an amazing night of music. Malcolm was on fire and Drew was feeding off of it. That was something to see. I remember the day Drew came home and told me that he had just joined The Silos. Drew was a fan of the Walters before he had ever met him. I think out of all the things Drew ever did in NYC, The Silos was what defined him. He loved Walter and he loved Konrad. I saw them many times and each performance was better than the one before it. Drew was positive, optimistic, funny and charming. That was what people who had just a musical relationship with him saw. For his inner circle, there was much to be concerned about. Drew had a deep, dark past that he never dealt with. I saw it as far back as college and it did not serve him well in adulthood. When I came home one day and told him that I was no longer able to drink because of a genetic liver ailment he looked me square in the eye and said “Why don’t you just get another doctor?” That was Drew in a nutshell. Like everyone, I’m having a hard time with this. I couldn’t believe the pictures I was shown of Drew over the last six months. I didn’t even recognize him. I can’t believe I’m never going to hear that ridiculous cackle of his. He was kind to everyone he met and could find the good in all of his fellow man. I never met anyone who was less judgmental and who was so untroubled by the challenges of life. He was like a brother to me. I’ll miss you my friend. Rest easy. Pete

Westley Cammon (seewestley@hotmail.com)
Date:Mon 07 Jan 2008 12:32:06 PM EST
Subject:A GIFT
 It is very rare for me to bond with someone as quickly as I did with you but that was part of your gift to people. I listened to you play music with great skill and amazing passion but that was your gift to many souls. I laughed and screamed with you about family, friends and work. That was our gift to each other. We would end our work day together with a beer. That was our gift to one another for a job well done. I am writing this to tell you, I know you were a gift from God to me. You will always be,GOD'S GIFT OT US ALL! PEACE&BLESSINGS

Ellen Berman (ejb512@aol.com)
Date:Mon 07 Jan 2008 10:48:34 AM EST
Subject:in loving memory
 I had the pleasure of knowing Drew through his work with Gingersol. He always had a big smile on his face and a warm hug for me whenever I saw him. Drew was a FABULOUS musician with a great spirit. He lit up a room, made people laugh, and put a huge amount of love into his music. My condolences go out to his family and friends, particularly to The Silos, of which he was an integral part. Wishing all of us strength in coping with the huge and shocking loss, and wishing Drew peace and comfort from all the love we feel for him.

Howard Thies (Howard.thies@parks.nyc.gov)
Date:Mon 07 Jan 2008 12:47:00 AM EST
 its only been 24 hours, since you passed on and I can't believe its real, where do you begin to measure the loss to the world of someone like you? you where a great stagehand, a really good PSM, an incredibly talented musician, but more then all of those you where an indescribable friend, always there for anyone who needed your help, willing to give the shirt off your back, literally,(I have one or two and a pair of socks to boot), always willing to pitch in, help, give a hand, talk, lend advise, share a story, and just be there, you where worldly, wise, fun loving, thoughtful, caring, and just one hell of a good guy, we should all be more like you. But you where more then just a great friend, you where always there for your family, and I particularly loved when you would share a story about your misadventures on your days off with your nieces and nephews, or gardening in your mom's yard, I'm lucky to have known you if only for the few short years that I did, my world will be a little duller without you in it, and I'm lucky to have been able to call you my friend, whether its was having a beer after a hard fought and successful show at SummerStage, or sharing a story about life on the road, I will miss you, may the rest of the road be kinder to you drew wherever it takes you, you deserved more then the hand you where dealt as I feel so many of us do, but you made the best of it and we all loved you for it, Be Well, my friend Howard

Rob Irizarry (robzarry@gmail.com)
Date:Sun 06 Jan 2008 11:52:13 PM EST
Subject:Miss you. old friend...
 Remember meeting you at UHA back in 83 or 84. You were a gangly, wide eyed newbie to college with short hair, a 12 string acoustic guitar and a gleam in your eye that said, "I've got a gift in me that you won't believe!" You quickly adapted to the scene in Stowe House & before I knew it you were a long haired rock & roll maniac... Lots of good times, laughs, concerts, gigs & just plain shoutin out loud. I spent this weekend alternating between crying like a baby & laughing like a lunatic at the recollections as I pulled every album you'd turned me on to out of my collection and blasting them - King Crimson, Peter Gabriel, Jimi Hendrix, Talking Heads, Adrian Belew, Allan Holdsworth, and a zillion others. We hadn't seen each other in too long, and I'll regret that until we meet again... Rob

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