Las Vegas Review-Journal (Sunday)
Drummer Friday’s beat goes on, literally
JOHNNY FRIDAY and Rob Mader are musicians. They are not doctors. But Mader, a sax virtuoso, told Friday a few weeks ago, “Music saved your life.”
Friday’s doctor told him the same thing.
“Music saved my life. How about that?” Friday says. “They were right.”
Friday is the thunderous drummer and horsepower behind Santa Fe & The Fat City Horns. He originally joined the band about 30 years ago, then took off to perform around the world. He returned to full-time duty with the acclaimed 16-piece band about six years ago.
Well-known and highly regarded on the Las Vegas music scene, the 60-year-old musician has been a coveted touring musician, backing Natalie Cole, Arturo Sandoval and Chick Corea among many international artists. Friday also lived in L.A. for about 25 years and performed in the house band for the Emmy Awards show, People’s Choice Awards, “American Idol,” “The Chevy Chase Show” and Bonnie Hunt’s daytime talk show. He’s the drummer for the music in Clint Eastwood’s movies “The Mule” and “Jewel” and several TV commercials.
Even with that impressive resume, Friday stays in the background. He’s noticed only when you hear his slamming beat, akin to a pack of M-80s exploding onstage. But Friday’s consistency belied what doctors call a serious medical “episode” the night of June 13.
About four songs into the opening set, Friday says, “All of a sudden, I felt like an elephant was standing on my chest.”
That seems the default description for anyone suffering a serious heart attack, especially drummers. Pepe Jimenez used it when he suffered a similar onstage incident last year while rehearsing with David Perrico and the Raiders House Band at Allegiant Stadium. In a wild artistic and medical coincidence, Jimenez was Santa Fe’s drummer until Friday returned to the band full time in 2017.
Friday knew something was wrong as he struggled to breathe while front man Jerry Lopez spoke to the crowd after the opening songs. “I literally was (makes heavy wheezing sound) trying to catch some air. But Jerry talked long enough for me to calm myself down,” Friday says. “And,
I was drinking a bunch of water, pacing myself, playing 100 percent instead of 1,000 percent.”
Friday finished the show, then packed his equipment and drove himself to Henderson Hospital’s emergency room. In another piece of unfortunate timing, Friday’s wife, Mary, was on a cruise with a girlfriend she’d planned in 2019 and that had been postponed three times because of COVID-19. She was, in fact, trapped on a ship at sea.
“Later, afterward, when everyone learned what happened, they thought I was
crazy for finishing the gig,” Friday says. “But the doctor told me, ‘You saved your own life.’ And I’m like, ‘Doc, what are you talking about?’”
The drummer’s characteristically aerobic playing style kept the beat, for the band and for Friday.
“So the doctor goes, ‘The type of heart attack you had, most people are sitting on the couch watching TV,’ and if I had been doing that, I would have been a done deal,” Friday says. “The fact that I was exerting myself, keeping my heart pumping, kept the blood flowing and actually saved my life.”
Friday’s test results were at once disquieting and predictable for anyone who had this elephant-chest sensation. He would undergo open-heart, quadruple-bypass surgery on June 16, three days after the show. He spent about two weeks in the hospital, and several more in physical therapy, gradually working his way back to the stage.
Friday’s first performance back for any show was the Aug. 6 Daniel Emmet-pia Toscano performance at Westgate’s International Theater (the night David Foster popped into the show, unbilled).
Friday then returned to Santa Fe’s show at the Copa Room at Bootlegger Bistro last Monday, about two months to the day of the surgery.
“I kind of worked up my stamina to play with Santa Fe,” Friday says. “If I had tried to go from my couch directly to Santa Fe, I would be back in the hospital.”
Friday and Jimenez bonded over their shared medical conditions.
“Pepe called me afterwards, and gave me a heads up how you — how I’m — gonna feel, how the physical therapy is going to go and this and that,” Friday says. “So I tease him now, because he only had a triple bypass. I tell him, ‘You’re not a man until you have a quadruple bypass!’ But you know, he’s been such a sweetheart through all of this, and we have that shared history in Santa Fe.”
The message from Jimenez, and now Friday, is to simply pay attention to your health. Visit the doctor. Take medical advice and directives seriously. Friday has never experienced high blood pressure, he doesn’t drink or smoke. He doesn’t even eat red meat.
“When something like this happens, it puts a fine point on it,” Friday says. “I’m fine, I’m getting better every day. It’s a slow process, you can’t rush it. But I’ll tell you, I’m listening to my body, and I’m taking nothing for granted.”
Cool Hang Alert
We had thought — no, feared — live music at the Dispensary Lounge on 2451 E. Tropicana Ave. would be a COVID-19 casualty. Not so. The place is humming along, again, with Windy Cariganes scheduled 9 p.m.-midnight with Joey Melotti (you know him from the Barry Manilow band) on keys, Boris Shapiro on drums, and Brian Bissell on guitar. No cover. Try the cheeseburger special.
John Katsilometes’ column runs daily in the A section. His “Podkats!” podcast can be found at reviewjournal. com/podcasts. Contact him at jkatsilometes@reviewjournal. com. Follow @johnnykats on Twitter, @Johnnykats1 on Instagram.