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Umphrey’s McGee: Ordinary Kids Doing Extraordinary Things (Relix Revisited)

Take latecomer guitarist Jake Cinninger. The Michigan native got his musical start as a serious drum student from ages three to 16. Exposure to jazz guitarist Al Di Meola’s Casino at age seven introduced him to hyperspeed rhythmic precision. “I really got into guitar at 14, dissecting Randy Rhoads, Van Halen and Yngwie Malmsteen guitar solos,” Cinninger says over fish and chips near his Wrigleyville home. “I’d get Hal Leonard tablatures and slow them down to half-speed. I became obsessed with nailing something, and six hours later I could.” Soon Jake was playing in a string of working cover bands, making good money by often playing five sets a night, three nights a week, at American Legion halls. “It was pretty good for a small-town kid in the middle of nowhere.”

On the way to becoming Umphrey’s primary writer and master of a guitar style somewhere between dazzling and terrifying, Cinninger played double-bass drums with “advanced metal band” Visions, decided music school wasn’t his thing, and spent three years as the salaried guitaristarranger for a country trio called Avalanche that never got off the ground. “The lead singer got hurt in a car crash and they dropped us like a hot rock,” he says. Cinninger decided to put together everything he’d learned about jazz, bluegrass, heavy metal, death metal, satanic metal, and metal metal into the trio Ali Baba’s Tahini, with whom he composed a solid body of material that continues to make its way into Umphrey’s repertoire. The two bands created their own little scene in South Bend until 1998, when the Umphrey’s quintet moved to Chicago. Jake followed shortly after, eventually taking up lead singer and guitarist Brendan Bayliss on his offer to join the group should he ever want to.

The other band members’ musical educations were somewhat more orthodox. Cummins, Bayliss, Stasik and Mirro all studied at Notre Dame, and percussionist Andy Farag at Indiana University South Bend, all coming together after stints in Stomper Bob, Tashi Station, Reverend Funk, Driftwood and other less notable precursors. Kris Myers, who joined the group on New Year’s Eve 2002 after Mirro decided to pursue medical school, earned a master’s degree in jazz from Berklee College of Music. And it’s safe to say that the band’s defining event of the past two years has been Mirro’s departure and Myers’ arrival.

“We never saw it coming,” says Stasik, “and Mirro was probably my best friend going back to Notre Dame. Mike dropped the news on everybody very nonchalantly during a Steelers-Colts game. At first I didn’t take it seriously. Then I was hurt because he hadn’t even mentioned the possibility to me. We were in the middle of Louisiana and still had an entire tour to get through, so we had time to panic. But I respect his decision now, and we were blessed to find Kris’ portfolio at our door two weeks later.”

Myers’ package was the very first application opened by designated drum screener Farag, who happened to live just down the street from him. “We knew we could find someone who could play our stuff,” recalls Bayliss. “And we knew we could find someone we liked and could get along with. But we didn’t know if they would be the same person.” Kris first played Jake: “I tried him out in my little basement studio. He came in and said, ‘I’ve listened to “Hurt Bird Bath” but I’ve never played it. So let’s just try it.’ And he blows the whole thing perfectly. I still have it on tape. It’ll be a nugget for the box set.” The band quickly went into recovery mode, teaching Myers 80 originals and handing him a list of 200 potential covers. They soon spent a terrible winter week on the East Coast, and Myers “got to pay some dues right away,” according to Bayliss. Cummins admits the band had a hard time changing gears: “It was like learning to drive an old stick-shift bus.”