If you're a musician who's lived or worked or played in the Bay area for any length of time during the last 15 years or so, it's damn near impossible for you not to have at least heard of George Harris. In addition to his role as guitarist in myriad bands over the years — he's currently in two, the jammy Greg Billings Band and swampy rock/R&B outfit Soupbone — Harris has produced local and national music at his Clearwater studio Panda Productions for as long as anyone, including himself, can remember.
"It feels like a lifetime," says the 44-year-old. "But [music has] always paid my bills; I've never had to work at 7-Eleven, I've been really fortunate in that respect."
I recently spent about a half-hour on the Internet, finding projects on which Harris has worked to add to the ones I knew off the top of my head. The resulting and still woefully incomplete list included dozens of projects, ranging from the reggae-inflected hardcore of Crizzy & The Punx to Halcyon's strummy folk-rock to roots/blues legend Roy Book Binder and beyond. Though he's contributed to more than his share of nationally distributed product, the producer/engineer/session player's resume is heavy with independent Bay area talent. His experience and commitment to the project at hand have earned Harris a reputation for getting the best out of hometown acts; in fact, certain persistent rumors have him gleefully turning down seriously big-name gigs in order to honor his locals-heavy schedule.
"It happens on occasion," Harris allows, before elaborating. "We turned down Puff Daddy once, because [St. Pete-based punk act] The Gotohells were in here. That was really funny.
"I probably had more fun with The Gotohells, anyway."
"He's one of my favorite people on the planet," says former Gotohells drummer Hunter Oswald. "Easily in the top five."
Simply by pursuing a way of life for which he has a passion, Harris has contributed to Bay area original music in a way few individuals have, or will.
And now that he needs something, Bay area musicians are responding in kind.
Last Christmas Eve, Harris was diagnosed with polycystic kidney disease. ("That was a lovely evening, I can tell you," he deadpans.) PKD is a hereditary condition characterized by the development of fluid-filled sacs in the place of normal, healthy kidney tissue, and an ensuing degeneration of the kidneys' ability to function.
In short, Harris needs a transplant.
"I thought I missed it. My mother had it, and my grandmother had it," says Harris, "but I thought I was Mr. Healthy."
Like the vast majority of self-employed musicians, Harris doesn't have health insurance. So when word of his condition got around to family and close friends, the subject of planning a benefit concert was immediately brought up, and embraced by a wide variety of players. James Wayne, an Orlando musician and friend and client of Harris, took the reins, quickly amassing a large and eclectic stable of local bands eager to help.
"James and [veteran Bay area singer-songwriter] Maggie Council got together, and started talking about it," says Bridget Burke, Harris' girlfriend and a key benefit co-conspirator. "He's been in charge of the bands, and I've been in charge of begging for sponsors and donations."
They've both done their jobs admirably. The show, scheduled for this Sunday at Skipper's Smokehouse, has ballooned into a 10-hour marathon of rock, blues, and roots music (see sidebar for the schedule); classic rock icon Rick Derringer has agreed to headline, and local-scene scuttlebutt insists that a few extremely high-profile marquee names will be making surprise appearances. Even DJ and award-winning voiceover man Russ Albums will be on hand.
For her part, Burke received a hugely generous $100,000 donation from a source that prefers to remain anonymous, and has collected an enviable pile of booty for the event's raffle and auction.
"We've got discounts from hotels and restaurants, rock 'n' roll memorabilia, jewelry, you name it," she says.
Harris says he's currently doing "all right." Understandably, recent events have led him to become involved in the fight for affordable health insurance for musicians and other self-employed individuals; he hopes the concert this weekend will serve, among other things, as an eye-opener to those who find it easier not to think about such things than to think about what they can do.
"Absolutely. If I could tell 'em one thing, I'd tell 'em to get some kind, any kind of insurance … I never even considered it," he says. "But I'll tell you what, when you sit down and there's a guy looking at you, and he says, 'um, well, I don't know how to tell you this,' your priorities tend to change.
"When you're really young, you think you're immortal. Then later on, things happen, and you go, 'uh-oh — maybe not.'"
Donations to the George Harris Benefit Fund can be delivered to any Bay area AmSouth Bank branch.
This article appears in Sep 8-14, 2004.
