In the late 80s, Kip Winger recruited select members of Alice Cooper's band, a super-group of session musicians in New York City -- who would form one of the most overqualified and least-respected bands on MTV.
They originally called themselves Sahara, a name that can still be seen on the cover of their debut album. But Alice Cooper suggested they use the name Winger, an artistic choice that would forever alter the band's future.
Winger's debut album went platinum in the United States and gold in Japan and Canada -- with music television mega-hits such as Seventeen, Madalaine, and the dramatic power ballad, Headed For A Heartbreak.
Their stage presence featured ballerina kicks, lots of hair spray, and skimpy, shredded shirts that were strategically designed to fall off by the end of the show. Like most bands of that era, they did not suffer from a shortage of earrings and women's clothing. They could have even gotten away with carrying purses, if not for their shocking amount of body hair.
What the casual listener might not know, is that most of the band members were classically-trained jazz fusion virtuosos; music theory geeks disguised in tight spandex. Kip himself referred to the band to a "Hair Band version of Dream Theater."
For example, the song Seventeen shows off their unquestionable knowledge of musical trickery. Following Reb Beach's manic guitar solo, the band kicks into a heavy syncopated groove. Just try and find the downbeat in that syncopated nightmare riff. Drummer Rod Morgenstein reverses the beat on us, as the entire rhythm section displaces 16th notes, with a pulse already warped by anticipations.
No surprise, considering drummer Rod Morgenstein was a member of The Dixie Dregs. Along with the legendary Steve Morse, The Dregs were progressive rock pioneers of the 70s, who blended jazz, southern rock, blue glass, and classical into a non-commercial mix of classical violin-heavy math rock. He was a high-caliber, left-handed freak who won Best Progressive Rock Drummer in Modern Drummer for five years in a row.
Guitarist Reb Beach was a jazz fusion nut, whose early home-recorded demo tapes sounded more like Chick Corea Elektric Band than Van Halen. After two semesters at Berklee College of Music, he spent time on sessions with Eric Clapton, Roger Daltrey of The Who, and Bob Dylan.
And Kip Winger himself was no stranger to the fine arts. He began studying the works of classical composers Debussy, Ravel, and Stravinsky at the age of 16. He was a serious student of ballet dancing, both of his parents were jazz musicians, and at age 21 he moved to New York City to study composition with Edgar Grana -- a Julliard alumni and School of Visual Arts professor known for his work with jazz legends Michael Brecker and the avant garde Marc Ribot.
But even with their established musical credentials and commercial success, they would soon mocked in the mainstream.
In the documentary, A Year And A Half In The Life of Metallica, drummer Lars Ulrich threw darts at a poster of Kip Winger.
In response, Kip Winger stated in an interview, "Metallica couldn't play what we play, they couldn't do it, they literally — technically couldn't do it. And I'll… challenge those chumps to that any day of the week, but we could play their music with our hands tied behind our back."
But the pop culture icons that would do the most damage to Winger were a pair of animated characters from Highland, Texas named Beavis & Butthead. Simply by placing a Winger T-shirt on a wimpy character named Stewart, creator Mike Judge destroyed the band through subtext. Winger became a joke overnight. Our mighty heroes were defeated by a post-modern cartoon.
The band, although occasionally reuniting for brief tours and recordings, never regained their footing in the fickle music industry, as their type-cast band image was a mixed blessing.
Reb Beach went on to perform with the esteemed 80s metal bands Dokken and Whitesnake. Rod Morgenstein took a position as a respected percussion professor at Berklee College of Music.
And most importantly: after all the ups and downs of his rock career, Charles Frederick Kip Winger returned to his teenage passion: his thirty-minute symphonic piece, "Ghosts," premiered at the San Francisco Ballet as a full choreographed production, and continues as a regular part of the theater's repertoire.
