Rolling Stone interview series Unknown Legends features long-form conversations between senior writer Andy Greene and veteran musicians who have toured and recorded alongside icons for years, if not decades. All are renowned in the business, but some are less well known to the general public. Here, these artists tell their complete stories, giving an up-close look at life on music’s A list. This edition features drummer Steve DiStanislao
By the summer of 2005, drummer Steve DiStanislao felt like his career had reached a pinnacle. After years of struggling to earn a living as a musician, he had a steady gig with David Crosby, and was in the middle of a Loggins and Messina reunion tour. But then word came that David Gilmour wanted him to join the band for his first post-Pink Floyd solo tour. He didn’t even need to audition.
Before he knew it, DiStanislao was traveling the world with Gilmour, Pink Floyd keyboardist Richard Wright, and other longtime members of the Floyd musical family. It was basically the Momentary Lapse of Reason/Division Bell incarnation of Pink Floyd with DiStanislao taking on the role of Nick Mason. A few years later, he joined Crosby, Stills & Nash as their final full-time drummer before their 2015 split. He gigged with Don Felder during downtime, remained a central player in Crosby’s solo band until the end of the singer’s life, and he plays on Gilmour’s upcoming album Luck and Strange.
“It’s crazy, man,” DiStanislao tells Rolling Stone. “I never in a million years thought I would be playing with any of these people. I think it’s bigger than me. I just feel fortunate that I’ve had these opportunities, and I got on well with everybody.”
DiStanislao’s love of music goes back to his early childhood in Orange County, California, when his brother played him Revolver. “I remember it vividly,” he says. “It was around Halloween. I think of that time whenever I hear that record. It has a very special place in my heart. I also got into Chicago and Elton John. I was never into heavy stuff.”
When his other siblings went off to college, they left him their record collections, exposing him to everything from Earth, Wind & Fire to the Average White Band and Crosby, Stills & Nash. “I used to lay on the bed and listen to ‘Guinevere’ and the rest of the first CSN record,” he says. “I just absorbed it.”
Future Larry Carlton drummer John Ferraro happened to live in the same neighborhood, and was good friends with his older brother. They played in a band together, and they took DiStanislao to a parade when he was 6. “I remember when the drum line went by,” he says.
He started banging on pots and pans that year. In the fifth grade, his parents got him a Ludwig set from a pawn shop for Christmas. Ferraro gave him lessons. His heroes were Steve Gadd, Jeff Porcaro, and Danny Seraphine from Chicago. At an elementary school assembly, he was given a chance to show off his skills to the entire school. “I did a little drum solo, and the place went nuts,” DiStanislao says. “That was it. After that, I was just hooked. Everyone was cheering.”
The story gets a little weird here since a hippie teacher saw this 10-year-old playing drums, and invited him to his house to jam. “This was 1973 or something,” says DiStanislao. “He’s got the bell bottoms and the whole thing. He just goes, ‘Hey, you’re going to be in my class next year. I play guitar. We should jam.’ He’s my teacher. Now they’d get arrested.” This very bizarre duo called themselves Sundance and began playing local gigs with a set focused on cover songs like “25 or 6 to 4” and “Fun, Fun, Fun.”
By junior high, DiStanislao was playing in jazz band with kids his own age. He won a National Jazz Association award, and was recording TV jingles before he even graduated. He briefly took classes at Orange Coast College, but school didn’t interest him at all. He happily dropped out when Stan Freese, father of his childhood buddy Josh Freese (another drummer with a wildly bright future), offered him a gig at Disneyland Tokyo.
“Then next thing you know, I’m flying to Japan,” DiStanislao says. “They put us up in American Village and we all had mopeds. It was a great time. It was hard work, it was seven shows a day, five days a week. Van Halen’s 1984 came out that year, so we played a bunch of that. ‘Jump’ was our opener.”
DiStanislao struggled to find steady work when he came home from the Japanese adventures until he landed at job in Paul Anka’s band. “I’d never really heard of him even though he’s written like 900 songs,” DiStanislao says. “It was really a great education because it was every style of music. There was a full horn section, conductor, the whole thing. He was a real perfectionist too. That was a really, really great gig for me. I did that for five years.”
But it wasn’t the Anka connection that opened up the big doors for DiStanislao. It was actually a moment during his brief time at college years earlier when he drove out to San Bernardino on a whim to audition for a band he heard was seeking a drummer. “This kid walks in and starts jamming on Yellowjacks tunes,” DiStanislao says. “It turned out it was James Raymond. We became fast friends. We won the Berkeley Jazz Festival.”
Twelve years later, Raymond learned that David Crosby was his biological father. They started a band called CPR with guitarist Jeff Pevar, but didn’t have a drummer at first. Raymond knew just the guy for the job.
How did you get the call about joining CPR?
They started out as a trio, and there were gigs at first. And then they did their first studio record. There are some great drummers on it, but they had a couple of tracks left that weren’t recorded. James recommended me. I’d already met David briefly, so he agreed to do it. We cut it at Jackson Browne’s studio. I played on “At the Edge” and “Morrison.” David was like, “You have to be in this band.” It was just one of those magical days I’ll never forget.
This was a pretty amazing time for David. He’d just gotten the liver transplant and was healthy again, and now he’s making music with a son he didn’t even know he had.
Absolutely. I’d known James for a long time by this point. And then seeing him play music with his biological father…It was very emotional. I remember seeing them at the Belly Up Tavern, and I was just so blown away, and then having the opportunity to actually be in that band…it was a really amazing experience.
It would have been so easy for Croz to just coast at that point and play his hits with CSN. But he started a new band and went out and played clubs, doing largely new material.
That’s one thing I really admired about David. He knew that his name was on the marquee and that people were coming to see him, but he really treated it like a band. He didn’t want a bunch of sidemen. He really wanted it to be a unit where we’re interacting with each other and throwing ideas around.
It was like a dream gig in that way. Prior to that, I was in a band called ESP, which was a jazz quartet. Once I got off the road with Paul Anka, I just went completely into this jazz world. I learned so much from that group and I think I grew a lot as a musician, and it kind of prepared me for CPR because I learned to play free time a lot more free, and David really wanted that. We’d play these tunes like “Déjà Vu” where we’d kind of break it down and turn it into this whole other thing.
Tell me about making the second CPR record, Just Like Gravity. You were a real part of the band then.
James obviously was writing a ton of stuff with David, and we went up to Santa Barbara to cut some basic tracks. We did all the tracking up there over a couple of weeks, which is the best scenario. We actually worked the tunes up and played them live before recording them.
What are the best CPR tunes that fans should seek out?
“At the Edge” is a very special tune for me. I remember David was in the control room facing me, and we had the lights off with the candles and the whole thing. We got that in one take. That was the vocal he kept that he sang live. Also, the lyrics are talking about how do you treat your friends, it’s about life and it’s about dying, the beginnings and ends. What did you do with the life they gave you? That’s a heavy one.
Why did the group end in 2004?
I don’t really know. I think maybe it wasn’t profitable enough, maybe it was too difficult to keep the engine going. Maybe there weren’t enough sales, and maybe he wanted to just focus on Crosby, Stills & Nash again.
What did you do after the group ended?
I got a call from Chris Robinson from the Black Crowes. I toured with him the whole summer. We were a jam band. That was really an education because I had to throw a lot of the stuff I knew out the window, and now it’s all about greasy and funky and rocking. That really was a good experience too. I learned a lot from working with Chris, and he’s another huge talent.
You toured with Crosby and Nash after that.
Yeah. That was in Europe in 2005. We went to Europe and it was amazing. Dean Parks on guitar, James on keyboards, and Andrew Ford, who was in CPR, and myself. It was so great. They obviously had their own tunes, so we were doing “Wind on the Water” and all these different songs. The dynamic between the two of them, it was like strength in numbers. The two of them together…their harmonies were unbelievable. I was given the assignment to sing all Stephen’s parts.
That’s crazy.
Yeah. I’m singing “Wooden Ships” with those guys, the three-part, and I played drums. It was great. Crosby would really be telling me, “I really need you to deliver tonight,” in a sweet way, but like, “Come to the party.”
How did you wind up with Loggins and Messina later that year?
I was over in Europe in 2005 with Crosby/Nash, and that was back when you had to go to an internet cafe to check your email. I remember going there and I had this email that said, “Hey, Steve, Loggins and Messina are holding auditions for the reunion tour and they’re looking at all these drummers. Would you like to come down?” Jeff Pevar had recommended me. I’d always wanted to work with Kenny. I was a huge fan, and I had the chance to play with many members of his original band, like [drummer] Tris [Imboden] and [guitarist] Michael Hamilton and [saxophonist] Vince [Denham] from their heyday.
Tell me about preparing for that tour. Those guys hadn’t toured together since the Seventies, but they’d both been out playing the catalog. Was it difficult to accommodate them both?
Their music was pretty complicated. It’s very involved. We went up to Santa Barbara because Kenny lives up there and Jimmy lived in Santa Ynez, and we rehearsed five days a week for seven hours a day. We worked on form and dynamics. We did this for weeks.
It was a really, really great band. Shem von Schroeck on bass. He’s an amazing singer. He played with Toto and stuff. There was also [multi-instrumentalist] Gabe Witcher and [keyboardist] Gabe Dixon.
We figured it out over time, and Jimmy really knew what he wanted. He was very particular. And Kenny knew what he wanted too. It was interesting. Kenny would come in the morning, work with us, and then Jimmy would work with us in the afternoon. As far as them working their thing out, I think they just kind of figured it out. They found their spots.
Were you a Pink Floyd fan in the Seventies?
I had heard Pink Floyd. I think the first single I heard was “Money.” My friend had the 45. Then when I was in that band in elementary school, a friend of mine had Animals. I heard that and I didn’t really understand it, I guess. It was different for me.
How did you meet David Gilmour and get the job?
Blind luck. I was playing with Crosby/Nash at the Royal Festival Hall in London, and we had a really, really good show that night. David Gilmour was there, and so was John Paul Jones, but I didn’t know until we were backstage after the gig. I met David backstage, he was real nice, and then that was it.
Then I was on tour with Loggins and Messina and Crosby calls me up, he goes, “David Gilmour is trying to get ahold of you.” I’m like, “What? Come on.” I got ahold of David and he asked me if I was interested in playing and doing his tour.
You didn’t have to even audition?
No.
How did that moment feel?
I didn’t know how to feel, honestly. At first I thought it was like, “Wow, this is crazy,” but I was just elated, I was thrilled.
You must have had a lot to material to learn prior to rehearsals.
Yeah. Interestingly enough, I never really got a set list or anything, and I didn’t want to be the guy that was like, “Hey, what are we doing?” He had a new album coming out, On an Island, and I’d heard the single on the radio. He had Crosby and Nash on it, so that was part of the thing. It was like I was at the right place at the right time.
I just created a list of songs that David did, put it onto a CD, and I drove around and absorbed all of this music. I was supposed to receive that album. I never got it, and he was going to do a bunch of tunes off that album. But I made notes and got as prepared as I could. Then when I went over there, we rehearsed in this place out in the middle of the country. I don’t know anybody. I’m thinking to myself, “I’m going to be sent home by the end of the week.” But it went great. We got on well, and then I finally got the album and did my homework at night and learned the tunes.
If you look at that band, they all knew each other. They’d been working together for decades in some cases. It must have been intimidating to walk in and see legends like Phil Manzanera.
Absolutely. It was intimidating. But they couldn’t have been more welcoming.
As you’re learning the parts, did you develop a deeper appreciation for what Nick Mason brought to Pink Floyd?
Absolutely. It’s a sum of the parts. You take one of them out, it’s not that music really. I didn’t want to try to imitate him because I can’t imitate him, but I wanted to honor what he’d done.
What was Richard Wright like? He’s a bit of a mystery man to most Pink Floyd fans.
He was such a sweet man, and also I think very underlooked as far as his talent and his jazz background. That’s where we connected. I remember going into rehearsals and he was kind of distant and a little bit withdrawn because he hadn’t been doing that for a while. By the third night of having dinner with him, we were talking about Miles Davis and [Thelonious] Monk. He just lit up talking about them, and we ended up getting on so well. I really saw him come out of a shell. It was beautiful to see, and I miss him. He was amazing. We were even talking about recording together.
Where did you play in public for the first time? The Mermaid Theater in England?
It was actually David’s 60th birthday party. That was a private event. The first shows were good, but they got progressively better as time went on. I was still trying to find my way.
When he’d bring out Crosby and Nash for “Shine on You Crazy Diamond” and “On an Island,” it was both of your worlds combining.
It gave me a sense of comfort, to be honest with you. It was almost like I had dad there with me or something. It was really comforting to have David and Graham there.
Tell me everything you remember from the day that David Bowie came to perform “Arnold Layne” and “Comfortably Numb.” It was one of the last times he played in public.
Oh, my gosh. I just remember the air getting sucked out of the room when he walked in. We have David and Graham, David Gilmour… Robert Wyatt was there that day, and all these heavies. And when David Bowie walked into the room, it was like the messiah walked in. It was surreal, and we were all giddy.
He was real sweet and he did a great job. When he opened his mouth and started singing, “Hello, is there anybody in there…” it was like, “Wow, there it is. Here’s that voice.”
Richard Wright had been signing that part all tour. Guy Pratt told me he was a bit reluctant to hand over his part to Bowie.
Oh, that’s right. He was like, “Well, wait a minute. That’s mine.” It was kind of funny.
That night completed your trilogy of the three Davids.
Yeah. I went 3D.
The last show was in Gdańsk, Poland. The only other time Richard Wright played after that was the Syd Barrett tribute show the next year. What was that night like in Poland?
Incredible. The best part about it was just seeing how emotional people get. It was a sea of people. They had these giant cranes that were holding up those giant screens above so everyone could see individually. You can see it on the cover of the live album.
When did you get the job with CSN?
I think that was in 2011.
You slowly built from Crosby to Crosby/Nash to finally the trio.
Exactly. Before that, David recommended that I go to Stephen Stills’ house to play for him because David and Graham were hoping to put a new rhythm section together. I went up to Stephen’s house. It was difficult because I didn’t want to take anybody’s job. That’s the last thing in the world I’d ever want to do, but out of respect for David, I went up there.
I had to explain that to Stephen. I said, “Look, I’m not here to take anybody’s gig. I’m only here because David asked me to come up and play for you. That’s it.” I think Stephen appreciated that. Fast-forward, they decided to make the change and I luckily got the gig. Again, right place, right time, a lot of that.
What was it like playing with them for the first time?
It was intense, their dynamic. It was palpable, not in a bad way. But there’s a lot of history there. It couldn’t have gone better though.
It must have been tough when they’d want different things from you at the same time.
Yeah, for sure. You’ve got to be flexible. I’ve learned not to take things personally as a drummer. “Stevie, it felt fast tonight. Can we slow it down a little bit? Stevie, can we speed it up?” Nine times out of 10, it’s just because of how they’re feeling that night. If the artist is a little tired or if they had too much coffee, whatever.
Were you with them until the very end in 2015?
I couldn’t do the very last tour they did because I was doing a tour with David Gilmour. Russ Kunkel filled in for me on those last handful of European dates.
Did you have a sense on your last tour with them that the group was ending?
Yeah, I think so. It was winding down. You feel it. It was great though. What a great experience, and we played some great shows.
We sort of took them for granted around then. They toured so much over the years that you didn’t really think about it ending until it actually did end. Then you presumed they’d put it back together, but that didn’t happen.
Yeah. It’s amazing to think that a lot of these artists are touring now, like Paul McCartney. Can you imagine back then going, “In 2024, these guys are still going to be touring?”
Croz told me he wasn’t too happy on the last few CSN tours. He said he felt like he was just firing up the smoke machine and playing the hits over and over. He said he was bored.
That’s one thing I love about Croz. He was so real. He’d speak his mind, and we all knew that very well, but you knew what you’re going to get. If he told you something, he meant it. He was never blowing smoke. It was so genuine.
I was lucky enough to spend a decent amount of time with him. I saw some flashes of real anger. He had a temper. But more than that, I saw incredible warmth.
Absolutely. How could you not respect someone like that? That’s the thing about him and the relationship we had. I have nothing but great things to say about David. I feel really lucky too because we are the last tour we did with the Sky Trails Band, my dad was on his deathbed, and I had to leave the tour. I’ve got to tell you, he treated me with so much respect. I was going through hell. I was so close to my dad. I had to leave the tour for a week or something, and he’s like, “You have to go home.” He was just so supportive of it.
I remember being in the elevator after a show because I was going to leave right to go home. We were in Philly or something. I said to him, “David, you’re a really good man.” He didn’t know how to take the compliment. He was like, “What?” I said, “No, no. The way you handled this and the way you’ve treated my family, I can’t thank you enough.” It meant a lot to him. I think he was like, “Really? Wow.” He didn’t hear that a lot.
I can’t say enough good things about him. I mean, we’ve all seen his bad side, and he went through hell in his life, but my experiences with him…he treated me and my family like gold.
It really seemed like David Gilmour was done after the On an Island tour. He just vanished. Tell me about getting called back in for the Rattle That Lock sessions.
Not long after the On an Island tour, David called me up and said, “Would you like to come over and have a little jam?” We did those barn jams. I think the whole premise was to get more music written with Rick. Then in ’08, he passed away, so that didn’t happen. But there was a lot of recorded music from that time, which was great. In 2013, I think, I went over there to record some stuff for him, and that’s how it started. We did a couple of days of tracking, and then he put the album together.
The 2015/16 tour must have been pretty different for you. You were no longer the new guy.
It was. It was a different band, different crew. It was different too because the first tour obviously was with Rick and [saxophonist] Dick Parry. Like you said, it was like the Floyd. This was different because it was several other different players that came in to do it, which was still great, but it was different. We did “Money” and some other songs we didn’t do on the first tour. The show was a little bit different than before, but he still played the new album top to bottom, and then did a lot of the hits on the second half, which is cool.
Playing Pompeii must have been a real experience. It’s like you stepped back in time and into that movie.
It was really amazing, just the place itself, the ruin and the history. The stage I remember was stripped down a little bit because we only had so much room in there. It’s smaller than you think. It’s not this gigantic place even though they make it look huge. On the DVD, it kind of looks like it’s 200,000 people or something, but it’s only 1,500 people. It’s always challenging when there’s cameras.
Before the last two legs, the band really changed. You and Guy Pratt stayed, but most everyone else was swapped out. What happened?
Honest to God, I don’t know. I think David wanted to make a change and there was some other players he wanted to work with. I don’t think it was anything other than that. I never really asked him. I think he likes to change things up, and I think that’s what happened.
It’s a nice vote of confidence that he kept you after firing nearly the entire band.
Yeah. I was like, “Okay, I’m going with this. Don’t screw it up.” I’m just so grateful for any of those opportunities. I never took them for granted. My dad had all these great sayings and one thing he would say was, “Success isn’t when you get called for it, success is when you get called back.”
Nick Mason sat in at a couple of shows. What was that like?
That was amazing. When he sat in and played “Comfortably Numb,” it was like, “Oh, okay. Now it’s Pink Floyd.” It’s his touch and his feel. It was apparent to me like, “I’m playing it, but I can make it happen. That’s it.” It’s like hearing Ringo or Bonham. You know what I mean?
Are you still in touch with David? Do you think he might make another record?
I think so, yeah. I mean, hopefully. I don’t know whether I’d be involved in it or not. [Note: This interview was conducted days before David Gilmour announced his upcoming album Luck and Strange, which does indeed feature DiStanislao on drums. Adam Betts, however, will be playing drums on the tour.]
Going back a bit, when did you tour with Don Felder?
I started with Don in 2007. My friend Shem von Schroeck, who I mentioned earlier, is a monster bass player. He played with Toto and Kenny Loggins for years. He and Frank Simes, who is the musical director for the Who, have known me for years. They told me that Don needed a drummer. I was available. I did a corporate gig for him, and then I wound up playing with him for 12 years, off and on. I did it between all those other gigs. When I’d get off the road, Don had a gig for me.
CSN breaks up in 2015. And out of nowhere, Croz gets super creative and starts releasing basically an album a year. He hadn’t done that much songwriting in decades. What happened?
I don’t know. He maybe realized his time was limited. His time had been limited ever since I met him. That was a miracle he lived to be 81 years old. He was a walking miracle, David Crosby.
What happened was he discovered a band called Snarky Puppy, and then he met Michael League from Snarky Puppy. He became a huge fan, and it just turned him on. And then between that and the Lighthouse band he did with James and those guys, he was on fire. It was coming out, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom.
His singing voice always stunned me. If you closed your eyes at his shows, it sounded like 1968.
It was incredible. A little over a year ago, James called me up and said, “Hey, Croz wants to get together.” It was after Covid obviously and all that. “He wants to see if he can still sing.” We got together. There’s a guy named Steve Postell who learned all his acoustic guitar parts because Croz was like, “I can’t tour because I can’t play guitar.” He had a problem with his fingers. James was like, “What if you just sang?” We got together and we got in a room. It was really fun. Croz was like, “I can do this. I think I can do this.” Next thing I know, I’m hearing from management that we’re going to put a tour together. This was last January, and he passed away.
When’s the last time you saw him?
It was that day, so I got to play with him one last time.
What songs did you play?
Oh, we did all of them. We went down the list. We did “Wooden Ships,” “Déjà Vu,” “Long Time Gone.” We didn’t do “Almost Cut My Hair.” He actually didn’t like doing that tune. He was kind of burned on it. We were like, “Come on. You got to do it.” Everyone loves it and it’s great.” We played most of those tunes just to see if he could pull it off.
Getting the call that he died must have been devastating.
Yeah. Friends were texting me and I didn’t know if it was true. Then I heard from Pevar that it was the real deal.
The positive way of looking at it is that we got so many more albums and tours than seemed possible just a few years earlier. His final chapter was incredible, and nobody saw it coming.
Absolutely. I’m so happy he had that renaissance at the end. That’s amazing in its own right, and I think he’s inspiring a lot of other artists, “I got to do another album.” In that way, it’s been really amazing.
You’ve spent so much of your life on the road. What’s the secret to doing that and not letting it drive you insane or letting it ruin your personal life?
It’s a challenge for sure. You’re giving up a lot of things. When I’m on the road and I know I have a show to do, I’m pretty focused. I spend the whole day kind of preparing for that show mentally, and also I want to make sure I’m eating right and exercising. Sleep is the hardest thing. You have to get enough rest.
I haven’t really been touring a lot since Covid, which has been great, actually. I have a studio here. I’m producing a lot more. I’m writing, and I have my own jazz quintet too called Solar Flare. I wrote a new jazz record and I want to do another one. The Our House tour will be my first tour in five years.
Stills is pretty retired these days. Nash plays largely acoustic.
Yeah. I know Kenny [Loggins] is retiring too. I’m actually really focused on more jazz playing these days. That’s kind of where I’m at right now. I’m hoping to do another album with Solar Flare. I played with guitarist Carl Verheyen for four or five years, and I’m on a couple of his albums. I brought him in and we made this record. I’m really proud of that record.
You’re best known for working with two guys named David. It’s interesting that they knew and respected each other even though their music was fairly different.
They were really good friends. I think the fact that David Crosby was doing so much great work might’ve inspired David Gilmour to do a new album and vice versa. Those guys all kind of inspired each other. They’re friends, and that’s really cool to see. There’s a support system there.
You’re about to do this Our House CSN tribute tour with Astrid Young and a lot of other members of Croz’s band. Tell me about that.
It’s based on a get-together last year. James really wanted to put on a show honoring David and CSN too. We did a gig in August at [Santa Barbara’s] Lobero Theater, and it was basically the same band that’s going to go out. That night was kind of cathartic for all of us. A promoter saw it and went, “I think you guys should take that out and play.” James and Steve Postell put it together and asked me to be part of it, and I agreed to do it. We’re doing it in July and August.
