The times were a-changin’
it was plain to see
Time to get Bruce Ray & Terry
to join Rolly and me.
We became the Jury
with a brand-new sound
So we cut a few records
and toured more towns
Not only did I play for one of Winnipeg’s top bands, but I also worked at my favorite radio station. How cool was that?
That not-too-distant future showed in the form of my baby daughter Candis, and that’s when I realized that I had to do one or the other.
CKY had offered me a full-time position as their Music Director, and as it turned out, I was a hell of a lot better at radio than I was at guitar.
Before too long, I was off to CKSO in Sudbury, CFRA in Ottawa, and CFTR in Toronto, where I wrapped up the Canadian portion of my radio tour as their station manager.
I had no choice; I turned in my station car, put Canada in the rearview mirror of my beat-up old T-Bird, and headed south to Indianapolis.
Shortly after I arrived in Indy, we launched a new format in Dallas on KVIL that changed radio forever.
So after eight years, I left Fairbanks and, along with my brother Reg, we started a consulting company based in San Diego.
However, by this time, I was living in South Florida, where I was the in-house consultant at WRMF in West Palm Beach.
The main reason I’d moved to South Florida was to be close to my newborn daughter, Cami, which is another story for another time.
Anyway, one day, while visiting WRMF, a box set of CDs showed up, which caused my old band days to come rushing back.
What made this box set so special was that it contained seven cuts by The Jury.
However, not knowing if our tunes had stood the test of time and not wanting to be embarrassed, I’d listen to them in the car on my way home.
As I rolled north on I-95, I had no idea I was about to discover what Sir Paul meant when he said, “I’m more amazed now about the Beatles than I was when I was one.”
There we were on this frigid December evening, being led down the dimly lit hallway of CKY by Chuck Dann (Riley) and Daryl ‘B’.
As I looked around, I noticed that all the acoustic tiles were yellowed from the hundreds of cigarettes smoked here by those who came before us.
While we waited for Chuck and Daryl to set up, Terry and I were tuning our guitars when Bruce, our new singer, asked if we could help him with a song he was writing.
The song was called “Until You Do,” and he was hoping that if we finished it up, maybe we could tag it on at the end of our session.
The recording of our instrumentals went quickly, so we decided to have a go at the new tune and after laying it down a few times, we headed into the control room to hear what we had.
It was good enough that Chuck and Daryl suggested I bring the tape back tomorrow to play it for their boss, Jimmy Darin (Hilliard), because, as they said, if anybody knew what to do with it, it would be him.
As soon as Jim showed up in the studio, Daryl hit the play button, and “Until You Do” once again poured out of the speakers and it even sounded better.
When “Until “You Do” finished up, Jim asked me if I could bring the tape back at 6 when he got off the air. He wanted to play it for Hal Ross.
Hal Ross, he explained, was an executive of London Records who was coming by to take him to dinner, but I’ll make him listen to your tape first.
As I was almost flying down the stairs, I noticed Neil Young, guitar in hand, making his way up, and as we nodded at each other as we passed, I remember wondering, “What the hell was he doing here? Surely he won’t be recording vocals; he can’t sing, I know, I’ve heard him try.”