Description

Order a personalized, signed first edition hardcover copy of David Hewitt’s new book, On the Road; Recording the Stars in a Golden Era of Music” directly from the author.

Please remember to enter the name you would like the book personalized to in the notes field on the checkout page if it is anyone other than the purchaser. All sales are final.


This book tells the story of a life spent on the road recording the rich diversity of music in America when it was a major part of our lives, not just digital background noise. For music fans, there was a golden era of live music, stretching from the 1960s through the 1980s, and even evolving into the 1990s, if you want to be generous.

In the pre-digital era, music fans spent a large part of their free time (and money) listening to their favorite artist’s recordings. It was an analog world so if they wanted to hear the music, they actually had to listen to the radio, buy the records, and go to the concerts. Popular artists had long performed live concerts in the major markets, but it took rock ‘n’ roll to make national touring a viable business.

Touring sound systems grew from scratch to keep up with larger and larger venues. Likewise, the ability to record those shows had to grow as well. The rudimentary collection of semi-professional gear grew into full-blown remote recording studios to keep up with the demand for live records, films, and broadcasts. The truly wonderful thing about the remote recording business was the author experienced so many different musical cultures. Where else could you go from recording a tour with the Rolling Stones to a TV special with Mohamed Ali at the Apollo Theater? How about the season opening of Carnegie Hall on PBS TV (with a different major orchestra every year) to Frank Zappa’s annual Halloween Show? Or maybe a Yoko Ono tour behind the 1980s Iron Curtain to the Eagles in modern Australia?

Then there are worldwide live broadcasts like the Academy Awards and the Grammy Awards to intimate jazz settings with Miles Davis or Wynton Marsalis. Compare the grandeur of the Metropolitan Opera to the irreverent comedy of Saturday Night Live.

On the Road contains the stories of recording all that music live in its natural habitat, the clubs, theaters, concert halls, and arenas. There were only a few companies that succeeded in the rough and tumble business of live recording. The author was one of the most successful live recording engineers and the constructor of remote recording studios during that era, with thousands of live shows to his credit.

Every story has to start somewhere…

Music was not my first love … first there was flying. My Father was an Air Force Pilot, he started flying B-17 bombers in WW II. When he returned home to Montana, it was to start a civilian aircraft dealership. He took me flying when I was 18 months old and I loved it! Of course there was music at home, Mom and Dad loved their Big Band 78s and I had a little kid record player. Listening to Tex Ritter singing “I’ve Been Everywhere” may have started me dreaming of a life on the road. In the late 1940s, we didn’t have a TV set, but the radio provided all the entertainment we needed: “Sky King”, “The Lone Ranger” and of course “Abbott and Costello” kept us entertained.

My Father was called up with the start of the Korean conflict where he flew Douglas C-47s airlifting military supplies, personnel and combat medical evacuations. He stayed in the Air Force and in 1953 we were stationed in Mobile, Alabama. Many Air Force Bases supported a civilian Aero Club with a few light planes that pilots could fly to stay current. My Father was very busy developing the new Convair C-131s, but he would take me flying on weekends whenever he could. I began to dream of becoming as a Fighter Pilot.

In the 1950s South, country and rockabilly music was on the radio and my aunt blasted it! I liked Gene Vincent, Carl Perkins and even Elvis. It was still the Jim Crow South in those days and it was hard for me to understand, but my parents, who grew up hardscrabble in the great Depression, taught us that a person’s worth is not determined by the color of their skin. Those lessons stayed with me for life.

My Father’s next deployment was San Antonio, Texas and they had a great Aero Club at Stinson Field, probably the oldest civilian airfield in the country. I was now old enough to hang out there, sweeping out the hanger and cleaning the airplanes in exchange for rides and informal lessons. No question in my mind, I was headed for the Air Force Academy. But there were other distractions now; music was becoming more important because of those blossoming young girls. Now Elvis made a bit more sense, because the girls loved him, but I really liked Link Wray, The Coasters and Bill Justis’ “Raunchy”. I had one of the first Japanese portable transistor radios plugged in my ear and earned enough money at my history teacher’s chicken ranch to buy a black leather jacket. I was now a “juvenile delinquent”. My interest in the mechanics of aircraft started to turn toward hot rods and drag racing.

In 1960 we rotated to France, where my Father started with the C-130 Hercules program. We lived in a beautiful chateau in the little village of Conches for a year before being transferred to Wiesbaden, Germany. There was an aero Club there and I continued flying, but an American plane had been shot down over East Germany and this being the Cold War, all civilian flights were grounded. That ended my chance for a solo flight. But my love for automobiles had turned to European sports car racing, which was enjoying a post war golden era. I traveled around Europe to the great racetracks, the Nurburgring, Spa Francorchamps, and Le Mans. I was now dedicated to building race cars. Music was still all-important to my social life and girl friends. We had the great American hits playing in the American teen club jukebox plus all the British bands on Radio Luxembourg. The Beatles were now playing in Germany at Hamburg’s Indra club and would soon take over the world. Later on I foolishly turned down a trip to see them in London because there was a race at the Nurburgring that weekend.

We rotated back Stateside in 1964 just in time for the World’s Fair in New York.

America had changed a lot in four years and the culture shock was intense. Listening to manic New York AM radio disc jockeys was quite different from the European stations. I seriously studied auto mechanics and did an internship at my racing hero Bob Holbert’s Porsche dealership. He was kind enough to give me a recommendation to Roger Penske’s first Chevrolet Dealership in Philadelphia. I managed to get to the 1966 Watkins Glen Can-Am race with one of the pit crew, just in time for Mark Donohue to crash the Lola T-70. I then managed a small shop for a British chap who raced a Lotus 23B and had promised me an old Porsche 356 to campaign- yeah, right… the first of many lessons in business. My next gig was at an MG and Jaguar dealership that also featured a pretty young receptionist. She introduced me to the local music scene that was thriving in Philadelphia. It was another golden era! FM “underground” radio now played a wide variety of music and inspired me to pick up a guitar again. I saw Gabor Szabo at the Jazz Showboat Theater, Bonnie Raitt at The Main Point and Cream at the Electric Factory. There were so many incredible guitar players appearing everywhere around Philly.

Then I met this lovely Singer/Songwriter who really taught me the true love of music. As her music evolved, I couldn’t keep pace as a guitar player, but I figured out how to press the record button. Gradually those race cars faded in the distance and music recording became my life. Yet another Golden Era.