by Van Jazmin 

At the end of 2010, the Sarasota music scene was in danger. Local stars flew to hotspots like Austin or Chicago. Some went on tour and never came back. Artists moved to New York and put their show houses up for rent. Observing the talent drought, local entertainment reporters prayed for a hero to resuscitate the scene. Their prayers were answered: Enter John Lichtenstein A.K.A Skiffle. Already known by the press for his guerilla promotion, Lichtenstein would be reintroduced as the “eccentric ringleader” of a new musical collective.

One night during a dry spell, I was walking along the empty storefronts of the Rosemary District. I thought of the good times I had at those short-lived shindigs. The Venue, once a coffee house for DIY film screenings and art jams, now a vacant box. Oh, but what’s this? A show poster shouted from the empty window, “THE END OF THE DIAL TONE RADICAL EXPERIMENTAL COLLABORATIVE MUSIC BAND BAND.” Impulsively, I jotted down the address and hailed a pedicab to Main Street.

At the scene of the show, I greeted a gaggle of entertainment writers, bloggers, and photographers. Among them, I met Tim Sukitz, an advocate for local music. He explained the workings of T.E.O.T.D.R.E.C.M.B.B as a rotating cast between 8-12 of Sarasota’s most musical minds. No rehearsals. Never a dull moment. That night there were multiple percussionists, a DJ, a trio of guitars, two drummers, a duel between a synth and a piano, a xylophone, a machete, and an electric nativity scene featuring Jesus, Mary, and sometimes Joseph. The sound was energetically fresh and surprisingly dance-able.

Each End of the Dial Tone was more extravagant than the last. The shows were booked in unusual, seemingly inaccessible locations. The line-up was always a rhythmically chaotic game of musical chairs. The bandleader, who played bass and occasional whamola, struck me as a humble and stable individual. His tone was solid and cooperative when giving directives to the crew. “There’s no rules,” said John to his band mates, “Let’s just make it sound good with all of us.” The revolving improv machine, upon closer inspection, is a spontaneous and organic creation.

A week ago I spotted John Lichtenstein at the Sarasota Vineyard, huddled with Scott Braun and Stephen McFadden. They had just finished a promo shoot for the next End of the Dial Tone. I eavesdropped in time to hear John spurting out innovative and unusual ideas for an event at the Asolo. He mentioned his plans for Drummers Night #4. I tried to imagine the sound of 30 drummers; and realized that John marches to the beat of a different drum altogether. For instance, he is not concerned with making profit, nor being recognized as a great bassist. He would rather improvise frantically than play a song – and wouldn’t skip a beat if the audience happened to disappear.

Drummers Night from Stephen R. McFadden on Vimeo.

Later in the night, I had the opportunity to learn more about the man behind the megaphone. The inevitable question, “What’s your day job?”, lead into a thorough discussion of burning attics, heart attacks, and falling trusses. Finding out that John Lichtenstein is a firefighter is like first learning that David Lee Roth is a paramedic. Over a snifter of house wine, I listened to John give his life story from raising ladders to raising chickens. In his youth, John struggled to keep up in school, but excelled at ice hockey. Instead of applying to college, John sent an application to the nearest Fire Academy. He stayed in the program through brutal hazings. By the end of his senior year, John was driving a fire truck and responding to emergencies.

At the close of the interview, John stood up to gave me a firm handshake and a stack of double-sided flyers After listening to rescue stories for the past hour, I nearly forgot about his role in the music scene. John’s creative ventures in Sarasota and his career as an EMT appeared as two separate universes. I could not see the connection until I thought back to that initial End of the Dial Tone experience. The first time I ever saw John, he was wearing a hockey mask and chopping down a piano with an axe…like a real American hero.

By day, John Lichtenstein saves lives, and by night he saves SRQ from monotony.

photo by Marty McPherson

*first photo above by Scott Braun