I was born in New York City, where I spent most of my childhood. My first love was the drums, an instrument for which I demonstrated enormous enthusiasm but no affinity whatsoever, and when someone showed me a few guitar chords at summer camp, I discovered a more accommodating instrument; shortly thereafter the drums were borrowed by a friend, never to be seen again.

My first electric was a white Gibson Kalamazoo, soon replaced by a Fender Jaguar, whose purple-with-yellow-polka-dots finish almost obscured the fact that it had no sustain, especially when played through the Rheem Califone amp that, being larger, had naturally seemed like a good choice over the Princeton Reverb I could have gotten instead. Nonetheless, I persevered, and within a short time, now armed with Gibson Les Paul Jr., I was able to impress the same neighborhood musicians whom I had dismayed with my drumming just a few years before.

While at boarding school, I struck up a friendship with a guitarist and piano player named Jeff DeCastro, who taught me about dynamics and how to get a good vibrato on my blues licks. Meanwhile, during vacations in upstate New York, where the family had moved, I met Bob Murphy, Dan Gifford and Mike Gold, who introduced me to bluegrass music.   

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