to o Drum Roll, Please ALICE BURDICK SCHWEIGER Special to The Jewish News Id ax Weinberg was in the right place at the right time. It was the spring of 1993 and NBC had just announced that Conan O'Brien would be David Letterman's replacement for the network's late-night talk show. While standing on a street corner on New York City's Upper West Side wait- ing for the light to change, Weinberg, an accomplished drummer, seized the moment. "My wife and I were out for a stroll, and I recognized Conan from a recent television appearance on 'The Tom Snyder Show,"' explains Weinberg. "So I went over to him, introduced myself and asked what he was going to do for music. He had some very definite ideas about what he wanted." After a series of meetings and audi- tions, Weinberg convinced O'Brien that he was the right person for the coveted job. "Everything seemed to fit together nicely — his aspirations and mine," says Weinberg, who named his band the Max Weinberg Seven. In September 1993, Weinberg began his reign as leader of the bandstand. The job turned out to be more than just directing and selecting walk-on songs for celebrity guests. Like most talk-show band leaders these days, Weinberg is an important part of the on-air repertoire, often being thrown into comedy bits. "Thanks to Conan's and Andy's (side- kick Andy Richter) tutelage, I have got- ten better at that," chuckles Weinberg. As comfortable as he looks on the small screen, TV stardom was not in Weinberg's dreams growing up. All he ever wanted was to be a musician. Born and raised in New Jersey, music was always a part of his life. His father, an attorney who operated a summer camp in the Pocono Mountains, played the violin. His mother, a physical education teacher in Newark, loved music and took Weinberg to many Broadway musicals. But he can thank his sisters for pursu- ing the drums. "In the fall of 1956 my sisters were watching Elvis Presley on 'The Ed Alice Burdick Schweiger is an Ann Arbor-based freelance writer. 11/21 1997 84 Sullivan Show,' and I was watching it with them," remembers Weinberg, who was then 7 years old. "D.J. Fontana was Elvis' original drummer, and when he hit that drum roll on 'Hound Dog,' I knew that was what I wanted to do." Within a year, he was taking drum lessons, and shortly after, he found himself performing at a relative's bar mitzvah. "The bar mitzvah band leader got such a kick out of it that he hired me to play at his club dates, as a sort of young novelty act. I would play three or four songs, and he would pay me $10, which was a lot in those days." By the ripe old age of 10, Weinberg formed his own band, the Epsilons, and performed at grammar school dances, parties and bar mitzvahs. "By the time I was 12 or 13, I was playing professionally most weekends," says Weinberg, who squeezed his own bar mitzvah between play dates. After graduating from high school in 1969, Weinberg attended Adelphi University for a year, until his high school band signed a record deal with Epic Records. "I moved back home to continue working with that band, and trans- ferred to Seton Hall," says Weinberg. "I enjoyed college, but it was a back-up." The drummer's biggest break came when he was a senior at Sewn Hall and read an ad in the Village Voice. Bruce From Springsteen and the E Street Band to "Late Night With Conan O'Brien," Max Weinberg keeps the beat. Springsteen was searching for a drum- mer. "His keyboard player and drummer had just quit the band, and about 60 drummers answered the ad," Weinberg says. "Luckily, he chose me. With just a few classes to go, I dropped out of col ~ r lege to tour with Bruce, but I eventual- l ly did go back to finish those credits. I finally earned my degree in 1990." For 15 years, Weinberg's E Street band toured with Springsteen, per- forming in front of sold-out crowds worldwide. Weinberg's favorite song? "Darkness on the Edge of Town." "It was a very exciting song that had a great drum part, and it was my wife Becky's favorite," he says. Weinberg regrets that the band's Moscow date fell through. "It was dur- ing the Gorbachev administration and there were political ramifications," he says. "It would have meant a lot to my family. My grandfather [and namesake] escaped the pogroms in Russia in the 1880s. It would have brought us back full circle." In hearing Weinberg speak of his Jewish roots, it's clear that family and religion are important to him. "No matter what you do, you always main- tain a connection with your heritage," he says. "My great-great-grandfather was a talmudic scholar, and there are pictures of him with a flowing beard down his chest. He was extremely observant, and that has filtcicd down C through my family. "Personally, I observe the High Holidays and love going to temple. It affords me a sense of solace, and I love the melodies." For now, Weinberg is very happy dividing his time between "Late Night With Conan O'Brien" and his own family. "To be 46 years old and be able to - see my family grow and be home each night by 8. What else could I ask for?" says Weinberg, who has been married for 16 years and has two children, Ali, 10, and Jay, 7. "I think I am extraordi- narily lucky for a musician." ❑