The Musical History of Eric Bascom
I was very lucky to grow up in a home with two wonderful and caring parents who always enjoyed having music in our home and in our lives. As parents devoted to their church – with my father being a Protestant minister and my mother the supportive minister’s wife – the various styles of hymns, gospel music, classical music, along with secular forms of music were a constant source in our lives.
My mother was a self-taught and very good piano player who never learned to read music and played everything by “ear”. If my mother could hear a song, she could play it on the piano.
Her gift of improvisation with songs and melodies was wonderful, and she would compose songs with lyrics freely and for any occasion, as needed. Often, she would just sit at the piano and improvise music spontaneously that matched her own mood at the moment, as well as for her own personal enjoyment. She also had an excellent alto singing voice, and always participated as a member of the church choir. One of her favorite ways to pass the time would be to gather everyone around her to join her in singing songs – any songs. From hymns and gospel tunes to popular music that ranged from Broadway show tunes to Hank Williams country music, to just about anything that caught her ear on popular radio. My mother could also play a boogie-woogie style and swing a jazz tune. Music was a big part of her life.
My father, being the head pastor of our church and a second-generation minister, grew up in a similar household as a child. Both of my father’s parents were Protestant ministers, and his mother (my grandmother, Elida) was a very good piano player that was often called upon to play the piano and lead the congregation in song. Music of the church, classical music, and light opera were staples in their home. Church choirs, group sings, campground songs, and more were always part of my father’s home life. My father took voice lessons at seminary school to prepare him for his sermon delivery and public speaking duties, and that included singing lessons to help him lead the congregation in song. My father had an excellent baritone singing voice that could always be heard over and above the congregation in songs during church services.
My older sister took piano lessons and sang in the church youth choirs, while my three younger brothers always enjoyed music with only my oldest brother taking percussion lessons at the college level for a short time.
Myself as a child growing up in this environment meant I was required to sing in the church’s youth choirs from ages five through my senior year in high school, the discipline of having to sight-read new and unfamiliar music were wonderful lessons – though not always appreciated by me at the time.
At the age of eight, it was decided by my parents that I should follow my older sister’s lead and take piano lessons from our church’s organist – a wonderful and gentleman named Dusty Doust. Although I enjoyed playing the piano and Mr. Doust was an excellent piano teacher, my interests at that time were more sports-driven than musical study and I left after two years. During my teen years, I was recruited to be the page-turner for my father’s church organist for two years, and like singing in the church choir, that too helped me develop some sight-reading and musical timing skills. That was pretty much the extent of my formal music lessons, although after high school graduation I enrolled at the Hart School of Music to study guitar, after much frustration on my part, I left after one semester.
The Guitar
I have no memory of ever not wanting to play the guitar. My earliest memories of the attraction to the guitar go back to early childhood memories of watching the cowboy singers and actors Gene Autrey and Roy Rodgers. The romanticism of the guitar being played by these cowboys while out on the lonesome prairie alone with the cattle and/or their fellow cowboys around the campfire at night, while also being the good guy who overcomes the villains and saves the day contributed to my love of the instrument. That these cowboys finished off each episode by being the “hero who saves the day and gets the girl” probably had a lot to do with my solidifying my love of the guitar. I wanted to be them.
I also remember when Elvis Presley’s version of the song, “You Ain’t Nothing But a Hound Dog”, hit the radio airwaves in the summer of 1956 just before my third birthday. By then, my parents had given me a plastic toy ukulele with Hawaiian themed graphics on the front to satisfy my pretend guitar fantasies. My parents took a picture of me as I pretended to play and sing, “Hound Dog” – which my father framed and kept on his writing desk until he passed away.
Later on, as I grew older, anyone and everything – whether it was on TV, radio, in the movies or printed media that included either an image or the sound of a guitar would draw my interest and attention. I loved watching the TV show, “Ozzie and Harriet”, just to catch their son, Ricky Nelson, play and perform his hit songs on the show with his band. Later on, when I was about 10 or 11 years old, it would be the Beatles and other artists on the “Ed Sullivan Show”; or jazz guitarist, Wes Montgomery, playing on the “Hollywood Bowl” show; or other TV variety shows, or the radio airplay, etc., where the guitar could be seen and heard.
My parents bought me an inexpensive guitar from Sears for my thirteenth birthday, and later when I was sixteen, I worked and saved up enough money to buy myself a Gibson electric guitar. That was a big deal for me. To finally have a good working guitar, that was easy to play helped me to accelerate my playing skills and learn pop songs and blues. Later on, it would be jazz music as my discipline to improving my playing skills.
Jazz music, when I was young, was not taught in schools or other academic institutions. For me, it was learned by listening to records, learning about the various jazz artists and their styles through record liner notes, and following the trail of the other artists that would appear listed as players in these liner notes for the recording session. On the lucky occasion that one of these jazz artists would be appearing in concert somewhere nearby, would send me running to their shows. Also, I would seek out jazz clubs where there might be a jam session included in the performance. This would sometimes offer me the chance to meet and talk to the artists, ask for advice, and get a little feedback on how I might be doing. Sometimes the jazz artist would share, and sometimes not, but playing in front of an audience was the best education. The audience will let you know how well you are doing. Because of all of these influences, it would not be correct to say I am self-taught. Rather, I was taught by example of the many wonderful and talented musicians that I learned from along the way.
Music, in general, moves me in ways that are deeply rooted inside me.
I think all of us are made this way. Music finds a home inside of us and stays around. When I am happy, I play music that celebrates these moments of joy. When I am sad, the music expresses this feeling and helps to bring comfort that eases the pain. Because of this, I have always wanted to be able to be a participant in making music both for myself and to share with others who might find and interest and joy in what I do.
