“The counterculture is exactly what the word implies—it’s about not blindly conforming to the strict rules and regulations of traditional society. Life isn't just about growing up, getting a standard job, getting married, and having babies. There is so much more to human existence than that, and the counterculture directly speaks to that freedom. At its core, it’s best summarized by those classic lyrics: "Come on people now, smile on your brother, everybody get together, try to love one another right now."”

Steve Keyser: The Eternal Power of Music

Behind every great rock and roll legend stands a visionary who helped pave their way. Steve Keyser is exactly that person. With an illustrious career spanning over four decades in the music industry as a tour manager, booking agent, and producer, Keyser has worked alongside cultural icons who fundamentally shaped the sociocultural landscape of modern music. In his fascinating memoir, “Rock and Keyser Roll: Music in My Life, My Life in Music”, he chronicles a backstage life filled with immense gratitude, unforgettable road stories, and a fierce, lifelong devotion to the blues and psychedelic rock. In this exclusive interview, the 77-year-old music veteran reflects on the lightning-in-a-bottle magic of the Woodstock generation, his foundational experiences in the chaotic San Francisco Bay Area scene, the eternal nature of live music, and what true happiness means after a lifetime spent hidden behind the heavy curtains of the stage.

(Steve Keyser / Photos by Bruce Forrester)

Steve says: “The best advice I ever received was simply to "keep your agreements." That has become the ultimate motto of my life. Above all else, if you say you are going to do something, do it—or at least communicate clearly if you can't. Living by this rule has made my entire life smoother, whether dealing with friends, business, or anything else. If you give your word, honor it, or talk about it.”

Interview by Michael Limnios / Photos by Steve Keyser’s  Archive - All rights reserved

First of all, you’ve had so many experiences throughout your life, especially in the music industry. What are some of the most important lessons you have learned?

The most important lesson I’ve learned is that music is an incredibly powerful phenomenon. I always say that listening to music helps you remember; it helps you recall all the moments of your life.

At the same time, music also helps you forget. In this day and age, living in such a crazy world, music gives you the time to just be present. It allows you to be in the moment and not get completely caught up in the chaos of everything around you.

What keeps a booking agent or a manager passionate after spending so many years in the rock and blues business?

It’s the music itself that keeps you passionate. Music is the only phenomenon in the world where two people—or 200,000 people—can gather in a common space and share a single experience. It’s a bit like going to a sporting event, a movie, or a live play.

However, with sports, movies, or theater, you have to pay close attention. With music, you don’t have to focus intensely; you can just let the sound wash over you. Furthermore, if you are blind, you can’t get the full value out of a ball game or a movie. But with music, even without vision, you can still experience its full power and emotion.

Your book, «Rocket and Keyser Roll», is fascinating. How did the idea for it come about?

It happened during COVID-19. I wasn’t doing any booking because all the clubs were closed. I started reflecting on my four-decade career and realized just how fortunate I’ve been to be involved in the music business. Looking back at my past, I decided to write a book.

Initially, I didn’t even care if anyone else would read it. I just wanted to put it together to review my life and express the immense gratitude I have for this journey. Growing up, like many teenagers of my era, I was very unhappy. I didn’t know what was wrong, but something just didn’t feel right. However, when I listened to music on the radio, the songs and the lyrics were incredibly inspiring. I realized there were thousands of people everywhere listening to that same music and drawing the same joy from it.

In 1969, having grown up on the East Coast of the United States, I drove across the country with a friend and came to San Francisco. The energy in the Bay Area was much closer to what I was looking for, compared to the conventional, middle-class lifestyle of the East Coast. Later, driving back to New England, I went to the Woodstock Festival. There, I found myself among 400,000 of my brothers and sisters—people who thought and acted just like I did, forming the community I always wanted. It gave me great strength.

I was incredibly fortunate because, as an adult, I ended up working with many of my childhood rock and roll heroes: Jefferson Airplane, Big Brother and the Holding Company, Country Joe and the Fish, and the Grateful Dead. I became close friends with many of these musicians and helped guide their careers. I’ve been truly blessed.

“The most important lesson I’ve learned is that music is an incredibly powerful phenomenon. I always say that listening to music helps you remember; it helps you recall all the moments of your life. At the same time, music also helps you forget. In this day and age, living in such a crazy world, music gives you the time to just be present. It allows you to be in the moment and not get completely caught up in the chaos of everything around you.” (Steve Keyser’s book “Rock And Keyser Roll” / Photo by J.C.Juanis, Steve Keyser in Athens Greece 1989, Steve with Bonnie Raitt, Merl Saunders, Max Gail Jr, and John Cipollina)

What exactly made the Bay Area the "Mecca" and center of music experimentation and research?

As I mentioned earlier, there is something unique about the energy in the Bay Area that I can’t quite explain. One way to put it, though, is that people there are just genuinely nice and open. Many moved to the Bay Area because they didn't fit into the traditional middle-class lifestyle of the Midwest or the East Coast.

When I was growing up, my parents used to tell me that I needed to be exactly like my neighbors. In the Bay Area, however, everyone is different, and there is mutual respect for that individuality. This kind of environment is highly attractive to musicians, who, in most cases, were not conventional people. It gave them the freedom to be truly creative.

Do you notice any significant differences between European and American audiences?

I can’t answer that fully because my experience with European audiences is limited. I’ve only been to Europe once. I was traveling with a band, and we played three shows at Club Rodon in Athens. Then we traveled north to Thessaloniki and did a show there.

Even though I’ve only experienced a European audience through those four shows, we were extremely well received. Because of that, I couldn't really pinpoint any major differences between a European audience and a US audience.

You have met so many iconic musicians and personalities. Which of these meetings stands out as the most important experience for you?

The most important musician I ever worked with was John Cipollina, the guitar player for Quicksilver Messenger Service. I helped manage John’s career for the last seven years of his life, from 1982 until he passed away in 1989.

John taught me that you can be a wonderful, world-famous musician adored by thousands, and still remain a genuine, grounded human being. After a concert, while most bands would talk to the fans briefly and move on, John wouldn’t walk away until he had answered every single question a fan had. He was incredibly fan-friendly and deeply grateful for the love and attention he received. John taught me so much—not just about being a musician, but about what it truly means to be a good person. I found that quality in other musicians too, but John was definitely the best.

What do you miss most nowadays from the feeling and the music of the past?

I like to say that I grew up in the greatest era of rock and roll. I’m 77 years old now, so I was a massive fan of the music from the '60s and '70s. The style of music has changed over the years, and it’s not as soulful as it once was. There is still a lot of good music being made today, but nothing compares to the era I grew up in. I was a big fan of Motown and psychedelic music.

How difficult was it to work with such legendary names, and how did you handle managing the legacy of these great musicians?

I never looked at it as difficult. I was always amazed and flabbergasted that the heroes of my youth were standing right next to me, and that I was helping them make a living. Whenever a problem came up, I was there to solve it. It was a thrilling experience, and it still is, because I’m still working with many of these musicians today. It wasn't difficult at all; it was just magical.

At 77 years old, what does happiness mean to you? What do you think is the key to a life well-lived?

Happiness for me is having this small connection to the music business and helping to spread joy. Someone once asked me what my greatest experience ever was in this industry. I remember being on tour as the tour manager for Jefferson Starship. I was standing in the wings of the stage, watching the band play, and I looked out at the crowd. There was a woman in the front row singing along to "Somebody to Love."

Tears were streaming down her face, and I knew they were tears of pure joy. Knowing that I played even a tiny part in making that event happen—and in bringing those tears of joy to her face—is the greatest feeling. There is truly nothing better in this world than helping to give other people happiness, especially in this day and age when there is so much insanity around us.

“I like to say that I grew up in the greatest era of rock and roll. I’m 77 years old now, so I was a massive fan of the music from the '60s and '70s. The style of music has changed over the years, and it’s not as soulful as it once was. There is still a lot of good music being made today, but nothing compares to the era I grew up in. I was a big fan of Motown and psychedelic music.” (Photo: Steve Keyser)

How closely related are psychedelic music and the blues?

They definitely interrelate. The blues is a bit more established and structured, whereas psychedelic music has no boundaries. However, I know many musicians who are well-versed in both genres. At the end of the day, music is music.

What are your hopes and fears for the future of music?

My main fear is that the people who created this music are leaving us. Not a month goes by without me losing a musician friend. But honestly, I try not to think about that too much. I prefer to stay present, enjoy the magic of the moment, and look forward to the band I have playing tonight, rather than worrying about what things will be like someday.

Are there any specific memories from the road with the famous band, the Dinosaurs, that you would like to share?

While there are surely many, nothing specific comes to mind right now because I have worked with so many well-known people and bands. For me, it is simply the collective memory of the happiness we brought to people. Just like the fans in the audience, we share a deep connection to the past and our youth, and that connection is kept alive through the music. Music is the one constant and consistent thing for all of us, no matter our age; I can still feel like I'm 18 years old just by listening to a song.

What is the core philosophy and mission behind SK Productions?

The mission is, once again, to support musicians—many of whom I worshipped as a kid. Most of the bands I represent through SK Productions are tribute acts, including tributes to The Rolling Stones (The Unauthorized Rolling Stones), The Doors, Jimi Hendrix, The Eagles, Tom Petty, and The Who. These are classic, legendary bands, and I feel very fortunate that I can help keep their memory and legacy alive.

Which memory of the late, great Nick Gravenites always makes you smile?

There are so many. Probably one that connects to what I mentioned earlier: I came to Greece with the Nick Gravenites and John Cipollina Band back in 1989. Nick, of course, was affectionately known as "Nick the Greek" because of his heritage. We had a day off in Athens, and the wife of our show's promoter had just given birth to a baby boy. We all went to this beautiful, ornate Greek Orthodox church in Athens for the christening, and Nick became the godfather. That was a truly wonderful memory.

The story got even better a couple of years ago. After Nick passed away here in the San Francisco Bay Area, we held a memorial service for him. I was talking to a Greek gentleman who attended the service because he knew Nick. I shared this exact story with him—about being in Athens and attending the christening of the promoter's son. He looked at me and said, "Yes, that was my son." It was an incredible moment. He showed me a picture of his son, and I actually have photos from that Greek Orthodox church myself, so it was an amazing full-circle memory. Nick could be a bit moody at times, but he always knew how to make me laugh, and he certainly knew how to play the blues.

What do you feel is the sociocultural impact of your generation and its music? How do you think your generation changed people and the world?

Our generation was all about peace and love, and that motto has truly defined us. Hopefully, it continues to inspire other generations to embrace peace, love, and music. I always go back to the fact that I am part of the Woodstock generation. That festival brought 400,000 people together in one space for three days, and it was defined by nothing but peace, love, and music—there was absolutely no violence.

Sure, we ran out of food, it rained a lot, and it was incredibly muddy, but everyone came together and realized we shared a common goal of supporting our brothers and sisters. It was an event that changed my life forever.

What was the most difficult part of writing your book?

The hardest part was simply remembering all the details. To help piece it together, I went back through old diaries I used to keep, and I looked at old photographs and videos I had taken over the years. I just didn't want to leave out anything important. Once it was finished, I felt really good about it.

As I said before, I didn't write it primarily for public readership—though it's wonderful that people do read it, and it's available for free on my website. My main purpose was to document this amazing life I’ve lived, making those memories accessible for myself and for future generations.

“Because there is something truly eternal about that music. A lot of the lyrics beautifully captured the raw spirit, the pain, and the joy of that entire generation. That kind of emotional honesty is timeless. Even if someone isn't a massive fan of the genre itself, they can still deeply relate to the profound meaning that shines through the music and, most importantly, through the lyrics.” (Photos: Steve Keyser with Barry “The Fish” Melton, John Cipollina, Wavy Gravy, Marty Balin, Sam Andrew, and Banana)

What is the best advice anyone has ever given you, which you now live by as a personal motto?

The best advice I ever received was simply to "keep your agreements." That has become the ultimate motto of my life. Above all else, if you say you are going to do something, do it—or at least communicate clearly if you can't. Living by this rule has made my entire life smoother, whether dealing with friends, business, or anything else. If you give your word, honor it, or talk about it.

If you could change one thing in the music industry and make it a reality, what would it be?

When I’m booking a tribute band, I often speak with venue bookers who tell me that the core audience for this music is now in their 70s or 80s. They point out that these generations don't really go out to shows anymore, or if they do, they leave by halftime. Furthermore, if they order a drink, they’ll only have one, whereas the clubs rely on people buying three or four.

If I could change one thing, it would be to find a way to get more young people to discover and enjoy these incredible bands from the past. Some younger fans do attend because their parents raised them on this music, but it remains a point of frustration for me. Many of these tribute acts aren't working as much as they used to, simply because their original audience is either getting too old to go out, or has passed away.

On your website, you have around a hundred videos. Do you have a personal favorite?

Oh, boy. That would probably be the John Cipollina Memorial concert in 1989. About a month after he passed away, we organized a tribute concert at the Fillmore Auditorium, which is arguably the most famous venue in San Francisco. So many of his musical friends came out to participate.

I particularly remember Nicky Hopkins performing—who was probably the greatest session piano player ever, having recorded with The Rolling Stones, The Beatles, The Who, and hundreds of other legendary bands. It was a beautiful night because so many people gathered in one place just to honor and remember what a wonderful individual and magnificent musician John was.

If he could hear you right now, what would you like to ask John Cipollina?

(Laughs) Oh, man... I would ask him: "Are you having fun, John? And are you rocking out up there in heaven with all the other musicians who have passed on?"

What does the rock and roll counterculture mean to you personally?

The counterculture is exactly what the word implies—it’s about not blindly conforming to the strict rules and regulations of traditional society. Life isn't just about growing up, getting a standard job, getting married, and having babies. There is so much more to human existence than that, and the counterculture directly speaks to that freedom. At its core, it’s best summarized by those classic lyrics: "Come on people now, smile on your brother, everybody get together, try to love one another right now."

In your opinion, what is more difficult: to be a musician performing on stage, or to be a music personality working backstage?

It is probably more difficult to be a musician, mostly because the majority of musicians I know are constantly struggling financially. As soon as one gig ends, you are immediately looking for the next one, and then the next, because that is how you make your living. I have immense compassion for musicians; they spread so much joy to the world, yet they are constantly worrying about how they are going to pay their bills. I deeply wish there was some sort of fund or safety net to support them, so they wouldn't have to carry that financial burden and could focus entirely on their creativity and spreading joy through their music.

What have been the absolute highlights and the lowest points of your long career?

The lowest point was definitely the COVID-19 pandemic. I couldn't book any shows, the musicians were essentially starving, and people were deprived of the opportunity to go out and experience live music. That was a very dark time.

As for the highlight, I always go back to Woodstock in 1969. It completely transformed my life. I have never been the same since that three-day weekend, and it was entirely for the better.

Do you have any secrets to share when it comes to closing big deals with bands and venues?

Once again, my only "secret" is keeping my agreements and maintaining open communication. I always want my musicians to feel comfortable coming to me—whether it's to complain, to suggest doing something differently, or to give me feedback on my work. Ultimately, I am just there to support them and secure work for them. That is the foundation of every successful deal.

How difficult is it to keep the old-school rock music of the '60s and '70s alive for the new generation?

It is certainly challenging because younger people are listening to an entirely different landscape of music today. As I said earlier, I firmly believe I grew up during the best era of music, though probably every generation feels that way about their own youth! I remember when I was growing up, my parents would yell up the stairs, "Turn that goddamn Beatles music down!" Most generations inherently rebel against their parents' music, although personally, I always loved Frank Sinatra.

Interestingly, I often organize shows at retirement communities for residents who, in many cases, live with dementia. The moment a performer sings a familiar song from their youth, their faces completely light up. They smile, and they sing along to every single lyric. That proves how deeply rooted those musical memories are. Even if you lose your memory, even if you suffer from dementia, hearing music from your past strikes a profound chord inside you. It can still bring you pure joy, even if you don't happen to know what day it is.

Why do you think the music of your era—and your own legacy as Steve Keyser—continues to generate such a dedicated and enduring following?

Because there is something truly eternal about that music. A lot of the lyrics beautifully captured the raw spirit, the pain, and the joy of that entire generation. That kind of emotional honesty is timeless. Even if someone isn't a massive fan of the genre itself, they can still deeply relate to the profound meaning that shines through the music and, most importantly, through the lyrics.

Steve Keyser | Music in My Business - Home

(Photo: Steve Keyser)

Photos by Steve Keyser’s  Archive - All rights reserved