I Remember Anton Fier

I remember my campus friend Bob in 1978 or so expressing fake annoyance when telling me of drummer Anton Fier's imminent move from Cleveland to New York, where he would join the Haledon, N.J. band The Feelies. "I guess he heard somewhere that I had a pool at my house," Bob said. By which, I believe, Bob meant his parents' house. "And he said 'Well I'm going to be spending a lot of time at Bob's place then.'" I don't think that actually occurred. 

I remember seeing Anton Fier and John Zorn sitting around Soho Music Gallery, where Anton had a day gig, talking about Charlie Parker and ignoring customers such as myself. 

I remember Anton and Bill Laswell looking at a big photo book about Sergio Leone at a table at Maxwell's once.

I remember several Feelies shows where they began implementing the policy of finishing  their set with the extremely frantic "Raised Eyebrows," which ended with high-speed drum fills and cymbal clashes embellishing the incredibly hurried beat, and then IMMEDIATELY launching into "Crazy Rhythms," and seeing Anton, red-faced, between the closing of "Eyebrows" and guitarist Glenn Mercer's downbeat signal for "Crazy" looking at Glenn with pleading eyes, as if to say "please don't make me do this." 

I remember Anton being rather put out on discovering that, on the first pressing jackets of the album Crazy Rhythms, he was credited as "Tony Fisher." (Stan Demeski remembers it was "Andy Fisher" and I reckon he is correct.)

I remember drinking with Anton at Maxwell's and making some kind of stupid joke about why was Greg Tate giving himself a byline after a Marvel Comics character. "'Iron Man' is the name of an Eric Dolphy number, you idiot," he said in an indulgent tone, and I went "Oh yeah, sure, knew that all along." 

I remember going to Anton's apartment to interview him for Musician magazine, my first and only feature for the magazine. I couldn't believe he had to slog his kit to a fifth-floor walkup after every gig. During the interview, which would be about, among other things, the first Golden Palominos album, I remember Anton saying of his label head, "Jean Karakos is a dog. He's a dog rat bastard, the lowest of the low. And I give you permission to put that in your interview."

When the interview came out, he was pretty pleased with it. "I didn't put in that stuff about Karakos," I pointed out. "That was  a good call," he said. 

I remember Anton coming off the Rockit tour with Herbie Hancock and expressing befuddlement. "I don't understand how you can be such a genuinely devoted Buddhist and do all that cocaine." I told Anton that Buddhism was one of those religions that kind of let you do, and wish for, whatever you liked, which is probably why it was so attractive to so many.

I remember when the second Palominos album, Visions of Excess, came out, and the dual dedication to John Bonham and Jim Gordon raised eyebrows, as did the back cover shot of an already soused Anton mid-cocktail-sip, probably snapped at Maxwell's. "I don't care," he said to me apropos all that. "I'm not going to live to be thirty-five." He lived to be sixty-six, but he's still survived by...Jim Gordon. 

I remember sitting in a studio in the dead of night somewhere in Manhattan for about five or six hours while Anton and another musician and a recording engineer tinkered with the opening snare hit on "Something Becomes Nothing," the opening track of the third Golden Palominos album. Just. The. Opening. Snare. Hit. I thought I would lose my mind. Everyone else seemed fine. If cocaine was present at this occasion, I was not offered any.

I remember interviewing Anton at his new apartment, on Eldridge Street, for a Spin feature on the Palominos and their aforementioned album, on which not a single snare hit would be anything less than perfect. (I heard later that Anton abandoned the mix and sent the tapes to Japan for a $250,000 remix.) Peter Blegvad was in attendance, and Anton brought a couple of bottles of "Chinese wine" as a social lubricant, and it worked rather well. Anton upbraided Peter for marrying up, so to speak. He called me "college boy." ("It's a STATE SCHOOL," I protested.) It was the first and last interview I conducted in which all the parties were literally horizontal by the time the tape ran out. I never found out what the fuck that "Chinese wine" was.

I remember Anton asking me to write the press release for A Dead Horse, the fourth Palominos album. That wasn't really my thing but you try saying no to Anton. I did my bit, and I was to present him with hard copy at the Bottom Line, after his debut as the drummer in the Bob Mould trio, with Tony Maimone. It was a pretty great show, I thought. Anton didn't. "BAND MEETING" he bellowed coming off stage, leading Mould and Maimone to the dressing room. I don't remember what happened after that. 

I remember walking into Rebel Rebel Records some time in the spring of 1997, when I had just started on the staff at Premiere magazine. Anton was hanging around the back. I excitedly told him about my new gig, and when I was done, said, "What are you up to?" He extended his hands, palms up. He was as assistant manager there. 

The last time I saw him was in Hoboken, a long time ago, where he came out to see a Yung Wu gig in a park. He had a crew cut and wore a dark gray overcoat. "Oh I see you're going full Fenster," Dave Weckerman said to him.

I remember he was always the most exciting drummer to see and hear. I remember that he turned me on to Han Bennink. From mutual friend (and key Palomino) Syd Straw's Facebook page I learn that he is now dead, age 66.  

Comments

[Jahsonic]

Really liked this 'I remember'. Did you known that there is a 1978 Perec book in which each paragraph begins with 'Je me souviens', which is French for 'I remember?