From Paul's scrap book

I got this from my nephew Chris - Toni’s second son – Chris and Paul
were constant companions when Paul lived with Toni’s family in New
Jersey years ago (late 80s and early 90s) – Chris and his friends used
to literally hang out with Paul and get into trouble, they would
include me in the trouble making when I would come up to Ridgewood to
visit; Chris’s friends used to call him Uncle Health! – of course,
healthy activities (other than vitamins, etc.) was not the activities
that Paul and they practiced, if you know what I mean – it prints out
quite well – I just tried it in an 11 X 17 version and it looks great.
Below is the note Chris sent me
One of my favorite tunes from the PFDA days was "Do It Yourself". First of all, Paul thought it ironic that Sugarcane, whose violin Paul had to go buy back at pawn shops all over L.A. before gigs or tours, was singing this song:
"If you want... somethin' done... you better... Do It Yourself."
Second of, this was one of the rare tunes where I had a solo when there were two guitars in the band. I love the New Orleans feel that was created by Paul's drumming. Incidentally, when the band was formed, it was Paul that would say to the lethargic Sugarcane, "Ok, now we need a fast tune." "We need a shuffle." "What ballad can you sing." "Let's do something with a New Orleans feel." It was that latter that became "Do It".
Paul did a great drum solo in DIY, and near the end was the one time he used a tiny, hi-hat top cymbal that sat there the whole set. In the last chorus of his solo in DIY, he got real quiet, then did the "Dit dit dit dahhhhhhh" that matched the chords in that part of the tune. That series of three simple eighth notes followed by a half note, capped by the originality of a Lagos fill never failed to get applause! There was a "Lagosism" about this phenomenon:
"You gotta have a little cymbal."
While I was looking to the Amazon link, I found this among the reviews, from a Norwegian calling himself "The Evil Prince" posted in March, 2008:
"[...]This is also one of the sadly few albums to represent drummer Paul Lagos at his very very best and maybe only equalled by "Incredible Kaleidoscope". There are many really good and great drummers of all styles who haven`t received their deserved fame, but the situation with Lagos is utterly terrible.
I would rate Paul Lagos as my favourite american rock drummer of all times ..."
One of my most memorable conversations with Paul involved solo transcriptions. I had done a few(Dexter Gordon, Eddie "Lockjaw" Davis), but he was adamant about their importance. Everyone borrows from everyone, he assured me, so start copping licks right now. "Cop, and blow. Cop, and Blow!"
It is how I'll always remember him. A trusted friend with whom I could share the most esoteric musical ideas; an experienced adviser who, more often than not, had actually worked with the musicians in question.
Paul and I were already acquainted, but in 2000 when he showed up as a sub to play with the Jack Buzzards, it was one of those moments when sounds cascaded from the heavens, and the legendary "pocket" drumming of Paul Lagos became permanently clear to me. It foreshadowed the formation of the Beau Koo Jacks two years later, for he was always the ideal drummer--jazz players are perfectly suited to New Orleans music.
And so the project--and the adventure--began. I made the best of the opportunity to work closely with Paul by handling all the business aspects
of the BKJ, and allow him to to (duh) what he does best. Pairing him with
great bass players like the late, great J.D. Sykes and J.R. Hartley made this a wonderful experience and a DEEP groovin' band.
And, thanks to Paul, the band continues to this day. It has the same kind of unstoppable momentum he had, and because it's New Orleans-based,
its spirit is everlasting.
And the personality and spirit of the unique Mr. Lagos couldn't have been more evident the day of J.D.'s funeral in September '08. (I still tear up when I recall telling him the news about J.D. There was a closeness, and the tone of his voice was like a clergyman.) Well, the service was all but over and the casket had been closed, and in walked Paul, somewhat dissheveled in a suit and tie. I can't even remember how he got the time wrong, but I'll never forget when he and (BKJ singer) John Eric Thiede managed to RE-OPEN the casket and create an
indelible scene of love, mourning, and friendship as they stood over him
in one last, poignant moment. It is how I'll always think of Paul and his amazing soul.
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