By John Johnson

This Saturday, April 18, Foreigner return to The BayCare Sound, featuring a special appearance by original lead singer Lou Gramm, with very special guest Night Ranger
Tickets: www.RuthEckerdHall.com/events/detail/foreigner

The original member aspect shouldn’t dissuade you from attending the show. The players have been with the group from anywhere between 12 and 22 years. Singer Kelly Hansen, who had been performing with them for 20 years has been replaced with guitarist, and apparently apt vocalist, Luis Maldonado. More often than not, original and long time members will still join in the fun as well, like bassist Rick Wills and founder Mick Jones. More importantly this go around, the bands fiftieth tour will include tunes sung by original singer Lou Gramm. I was lucky enough to get to speak with said icon on a recent phone call.

I caught Lou Gramm in a laid-back, in-between moment—half up north, half Florida state of mind—and from the start, he sounded genuinely happy to be doing this.

“I’m doing fine… *very excited*,” he tells me right out of the gate. Same here. Come on, it’s LOU GRAMM.

I proudly admit that I grew up on Foreigner, and he meets that with a simple, sincere, “Oh, thank you.” No ego, just appreciation. We start talking about his split life between Rochester New York and Bradenton Florida, and he doesn’t hold back on how he feels about winter these days:

“I’m just sick of the cold… and sick of the days that only have six hours of light.” As a Floridian that only enjoys snow while wearing skis, I concur. When I bring up seeing him pop onstage in Clearwater last year, he remembers the moment, and confirms he’ll be back out again more often this tour. I ask him if he’ll be singing more of those songs I grew up on. “Yes, I am,” he says.
“I think three… maybe four,” when I ask how many songs he might do. No setlist details though—he laughs that off a bit:
“I can’t divulge yet because we’re in the process of figuring out who’s singing what.”

He speaks in such a kind, even keeled demeanor that I almost forgot I was chatting with a guy whose voice has been circulating the air waves for the last five decades. The recorded history aside, it’s clear that he never really stopped working. When I ask what pulled him back into a heavier creative mode, he shrugs it off like it was inevitable, “I never got completely unbusy.” he continues excitedly. “I started writing some songs and finding some good ideas… and started making a new album.” That album, Release, was actually already out by the time we spoke. “The name of the album is *Release*… it’s a collection of unreleased songs from my earlier solo albums in the 1980s that needed completion.” Releasing the unreleased concept was not lost on me. There’s something great about that—unfinished ideas from decades ago finally getting their moment. He recorded it where he’s most comfortable: “I recorded it in my studio in Rochester, New York… and in Bradenton, Florida.” I imagine the varying climates created two very different vibes, but his one distinctive voice tied them together.

At one point I name drop Cheap Trick frontman Robin Zander, who told me that Lou is one of his all-time favorites. He pauses for a second, then just says humbly, “Oh, that’s nice. He’s a great guy… they’re all great guys in that band.” Then he casually drops a little history, “They opened for us… during the Double Vision album.” Just like that, a smidge of rock history in passing.

We get into the old touring-and-recording grind, when bands like Foreigner, Cheap Trick and others would put out 4 or 5 complete albums in 5 years or so, unheard of these days. He agrees and I could hear the pride in how relentless it used to be, “When we came off the road from a tour, we wouldn’t hang around or go on vacation for six months… after about two weeks, we’d get back in and start writing the next album.” He continues gratifyingly “So it was a continuous process.”

Different world now—and he knows it. “It doesn’t mean what it used to mean, an album.” With a slight bit of disgust, “That’s why some of those guys don’t even put out albums. They just keep releasing singles.” But vinyl? Like my daughter of 25, that still hits home for him. “It’s not only nostalgic… the quality is excellent… but it’s a little bit flawed at some point… and if it’s too pristine, it doesn’t sound like rock and roll.” That line stuck with me, one because I believe it to be accurate, and two it was said directly to me by LOU GRAMM.

We talk about what’s next, and there’s no slowing down. “I’ve got shows all summer… and I’m doing shows with Foreigner all summer to the end of the year.” He’s splitting time between his own band and the 50th anniversary run, still sounding like he’s fully in it. Even at 75 and with a few health battles along the way.

When I ask about today’s music, he gets honest—no bitterness, just observation. “I hear some very good things… but most of the things, you hear them once and they’re gone.” Referring to the short attention span of the newer generation I assumed. “I don’t think record labels are promoting their artists well enough… they’re not that interested in the longevity of an artist.” Then he sums it up in a way that feels a little too accurate, “Maybe it’s the end of an era.” A brief moment of sad reflection and silence.

Touring, though—that’s still real, as I mention the only way for artists to make real money these days is by hitting the road. “They make their name on touring.” And as a live music guy myself, I can’t argue with that.

Just as we’re settling into a groove, he’s got to jump—next call, next obligation. “I’ve got another one coming up, so I’m going to have to thank you and bail out on you.” And even though I’m a bit disappointed, I knew our time was going to be brief. We laugh. I thank him, wish him well, tell him I’ll go track down Release.

He leaves me with a sincere and humble, “Awesome… thanks.” Simple, genuine, just like the whole conversation. And yeah… hearing that voice, even just talking, he still sounds like a jukebox hero.

Now, Go Out and See, Hear and Feel Live Music.