An Appreciation

This is an appreciation of Rod Sphere, by Jay Alan Friedmann.

Alan was a fellow musician and contemporary of Rod, when Rod was a local star in the Los Angeles music scene.
Alan here gives us a deep dive into who Rod is and was, as a musician, composer, performing artist, and troubadour.

Rod is God. A stage acts like a giant magnifying glass waiting to enlarge and call attention to any demons that might be perched on your shoulder. It’s no place to hide. Rod walked onto the tiny platform, demon free. He carried a 12 string guitar with six strings missing. There is no good musical reason to play a 12 string guitar with six strings missing. Was it a conscious statement of uniqueness and nonconformity, reckless disregard for conventions or just poor guitar hygiene I couldn’t say. Didn’t seem to bother him or anybody else. He was on home turf. The loud hum of metal touching electrified metal sliced the chatter of the room in half as he plunged the guitar cable into the jack. He adjusted the mic. Then something that I had never seen before happened. The audience began to chant. Spontaneously, quietly at first, then building in volume and enthusiasm

Rod is God Rod Is God Rod is God.

The electricity that was pulsating through the room was more Tesla than Edison. He began to hammer out a rhythm and he waited for everyone to find a seat on the train that was leaving the station.

It had almost been a decade since I left Los Angeles and said farewell to Rod Smear and a small coven of singer songwriter friends we shared. He hadn’t been God then. The first time I saw Rod perform, I knew he was good, but he wasn’t godly good. He hadn’t been God the last time that I saw him play, either. Something had changed from when our paths last crossed.

It was the summer of 1985, give or take. As I waited in line, I was admiring the architecture of an abandoned electric street car terminal on Venice Boulevard when I noticed Rod in front of me. We were both waiting to play at The Mama’s Pajamas open mic. During the day, Mama’s was a vintage clothing store at night, an espresso bar / acoustic music venue.

It didn’t take long for us to discover that we had a shared perspective on life, aesthetics, The Beatles and what was funny. Funny was in the majority, and a good rapport ensued. Or musical sensibilities overlapped in many places. As a singer song writer that had in an earlier musical incarnation been an Eric Clapton devotee, I was a decent guitarist and at some point I began accompanying Rod at several open mic nights around town.

Rod said little about himself. He cultivated an air of mystery. There were hints of a financially successful former life in San Diego that had been abandoned to follow his true calling, but you never really knew. At least I didn’t.

In the waning eighties, Rod hadn’t attained deity status yet, but you could see the potential for earthly greatness. Take one part, Neil Young and two Bobs, Dylan and Marley, spice it up with a little John Lennon, liquify in a blender and garnished with some Tiny Tim and you might have a Rod Smear cocktail. I always thought he chose the wrong garnish, but you really couldn’t tell Rod how to mix a drink. His lyrics could be simple and poignant or otherworldly and abstract and he could write melody. If pressed even a hook.

After a year of collaboration, Rod and I produce a modest outdoor afternoon concert in downtown Los Angeles. It was named after one of Rods song’s “Shake The Tree”. The event exceeded our expectations though one of our expectations was not to make any money and we didn’t, but everyone had a good time and we didn’t lose any. Co Producing “Shake The Tree” put a strain on our relationship, however. I don’t recollect the specifics (the business) but we defiantly broke a few branches while harvesting the fruit. We had words. We drifted apart.

After finding a non musical career and divorcing a woman that couldn’t hold a tune, my work brought me back to Los Angeles. I started playing out and discovering a whole new open mic scene. Eventually I ran into Rod at Highland Grounds. Highland Grounds was the most happening open mic in Los Angeles circa 2002 and that’s when I heard “Rod is God”.

Rod had become a big fish in a small but very hip pond. People did get discovered there. Some got lost. It was not unusual to have 75 people signed up and hoping that MC, Michael McCarthy, the very talented singer, songwriter, guitarist and musical director for Miley Cyrus, would give them a spot. No guaranties were given except for Rod. Not everyone got to play. It was for the most part a merit based system of favoritism. There was no waiting in line for Rod. He always had a reserved spot in the meatiest part of the lineup. He would rarely play something from his song catalog instead more often than not, he would improvise words and music on the spot. That appeared to be what was about to happen.

Even before he’d obtained deity status, Rod had a way of connecting with audiences. As he became more confident, he developed a style that you either got or you didn’t but you did not forget the encounter. Perhaps for those that did not “get him” he was like a train wreck. An uncomfortable, can’t take your eyes off, thing to witness but something that none the less would be seared into your brain. On the other hand, in those small, up close and personal venues, his abandonment and fearlessness on stage was appreciated by many people. He performed with a dynamic range that is almost totally lacking in Pop music today but is an incredibly powerful tool for a solo performer. With his guitar and voice, he could reach a thunderous crescendo, stop on a dime, and then transition to the echo of a pin dropping. When we met, he hadn’t quit figured all that out yet, but he created wonderfully textured accompaniments with an assortment of electronic guitar effects and some very quirky body language all enlisted in the service of his unique compositions. He had fans.

The chant evolved into applause as Rod began to find the groove. The train said goodbye to the station. It was a rambling performance that did appear to be totally improvised. At several points, you sensed wheels were about to come off, but at the last minute, the bolts held and the train kept rolling. The audience was not disappointed. Some quality of godliness had been represented.

Somewhere around 1995, Rod released an independent album called “Dot”. It had some wonderful material on it and received some favorable reviews, but there wasn’t a follow up. After “Dot” he appeared to have made a conscious decision to abandon anything that might have the slightest possibility of commercial success and go more and more into the realm of the unknown.

A great producer can take raw talent and shape it. They can nurture it and edit when necessary. It’s rumored that Van Morrison’s producer, Bert Berns, once locked him in a room and said you’re not coming out until you write a hit song. He wrote “Brown-Eyed Girl”, Rolling Stones 109th greatest pop song of all time. The Eagles told Glyn Johns, their producer, that they wanted to sound like the Rolling Stones. He told them that would never happen, but he also told them that the Rolling Stones would never be The Eagles, so “lets please hear those harmonies again”. Rod never found that person. If he did, he pissed them off.

Mama died, literally and figuratively, and that sacred bit of ground became a Blockbuster Video and then a Starbucks. Highland Grounds gave up its greasy spoon alt performance space status and became an upscale eatery. Canter’s, the LA landmark, has a small bar hidden away in a corner. It’s called The “Kibitz Room”. I had heard that Rod frequented the bar, but that was many years ago, so that information is out of date. “Dot” can be found on Amazon but is currently out of stock. Search for Rod Smear on YouTube and Rod Stewart comes up.

If there are in fact alternate universes, then I am certain that in one of them the Nazis won WW2 and in another someone locked Rod in a room until he wrote a hit song and in that universe, if you search for Rod Stewart on You Tube you end up with a list of Rod Smear’s top100 videos.

Addendum:
And in a forth alternative universe, as the new millennium approached, Rod Smear rebranded himself. He became Rod Sphere. If you search Rod Sphere you will find his website and many videos. On any given night you’ll probably find him playing live somewhere in America. In August of 2021 he was in North Carolina.

I think my first ending makes for a better story but I’m glad that I was misinformed and Rod has become a true American Troubadour.

— Jay Alan Friedmann, singer/songwriter