In 1984 I started working all the shows at the Santa Cruz Civic Auditorium in a position they called 'Showperson' for lack of a better term. It was just really to represent the Civic while running all around during a show and making sure things were halfway coordinated. Basically, it was being a glorified 'gofer' for all the different entities it took to put on a rock show. It was a good gig, and I got to see many bands I would never have paid to see otherwise and got a front-row seat to the 80's pop music culture of the next generation coming up after mine. That it was 40 years ago now is alone a sobering thought.

One of the shows that stuck in my mind from that year was Stevie Ray Vaughn. It wasn't because of the music, as I have never been a hot lick, guitar god fan. I am more of a "give me a bouncy C" and a strong hook kinda guy. It was for the backstage action that came into focus after I read about Vaughn when he died 6 years later in the helicopter crash that cemented this memory.

Vaughn was at his peak in '84 with his 'Couldn't Stand the Weather' album selling like hot cakes. He had already done guitar work on six songs for David Bowie on the album 'Let's Dance' and was riding high. The rumors of his hard partying ways had already preceded him to our humble venue, and his backstage entourage did not disappoint. You could always tell how hard a band was partying in the 80's by how much blow filtered on down to us peons at the Civic, and his people had us all railed up by the soundcheck. Things go better with coke. For sure you got better care from us if you shared a little of your rock star lifestyle.

One vivid memory was running into Vaughn in the green room and how pale he was. Plus, his eyes were totally dead. He looked road burned for sure and was not handling his newfound success well. But he was a nice enough guy and treated us servant class pretty good compared to some of the other bands I dealt with. In retrospect a Muddy Waters' quote about Vaughn I read later reminded me of that image too: "Stevie could perhaps be the greatest guitar player that ever lived, but he won't live to get 40 years old if he doesn't leave that white powder alone." Vaughn died at 35 in an accident supposedly sober after many trips to rehab, but the irony was not lost on me.

The audience was about what one would expect, with a high percentage of guitar geek dudes with longhair who never signed on to punk rock or new wave. These were the legions of guys who hung out in guitar shops 'shredding' and driving the store clerks crazy and could tell you the history and value of any electric guitar in the world off the top of their heads. As for the show, Stevie Ray obviously knew his way around a fretboard, but his playing seemed sterile and cold to me somehow. He ended with a cover of Hendrix's 'Voodoo Child' which brought that point home very clearly to me. It was all technique and no soul to my ears. But the one thing I did learn at the Civic was pop music was a business, a very hard business, and by that standard Vaughn was a huge success. And dying young for a rock star insures we will only remember them in their prime, before they devolve into a parody of themselves, which we are surrounded with today in almost comical terms. To quote Lenny Bruce, "There's nothing sadder than an aging hipster."