Toymaker

Scott Crocker
Singer, Songwriter, Musician

Scott, or Scotty to his friends, of which whom of course we count you, gentle surfer, has always been known for his conviction to songwriting in its most basic and true sense. Based in folk, Psychaedelic Rock, Classical, Power pop, Surf Punk & Powerpunksurfpop. Scott's writing styles vary from basic structures to poppy money-makin' ditties to Rock'n'Rollin' symphonies . His songs could easily be interpreted in a varying variety of styles from all of the above to blues & then, inexorably on to yet uncharted genres, cul de sacs, and cubby-holes of sellable musical product. What?... Well!... He is blessed with the ability to, with want for a better word & need for a thesaurus, relentlessly churn material to be laid at the feet of Dave, Vic, & the rest of the unmentionable Toymaker guys for their approval, praise & consideration for upcoming Singles, Albums, Videos, Films & Radio Jingles. Huh?... Oh!... Born Douglas Scott ("Scotty" to his friends & family, "Fuckin' Prick Bastard" to his enemies & their families) Crocker to Cambridge, Mass. (Mum) & Nova Scotian (Dad) lineage in the spring of love 1963 (the same day the Thresher went down) he had the good fortune to fall face first into an interesting family and the happy 50's-ish-like environment of the upper-class Beachmont gentry. Toymaker Dave's family were also of the same ilk, yet coincidently their paths nary crossed a once. Not once did they engage in a friendly game of Croquet on the Crocker estate or in adolescent copulation with the local debutantes. Just think of the of all the cranberries that could have been squashed to shit in the Baillie bog. Anywho.....

The 50's-ishness of it all soon came to an end & having hippies for brothers, Scott was early-on subject to and influenced by all the major and many of the obscurer musicians & singer/songwriters of the turbulent, turgid & sometimes, often torpid 60's. Having constant streams & intermittent deluges of Beatles, Doors, Stones, Zappas, Neil Youngs, Dylans, 13th Floor Elevators, Hendrixes, Jefferson Airplanes, Starships & Wheelchairs (to name but a couple of fews) had quite the effect on the young mind. Heck, many a time, our young hero had to be dragged flailing & gagging from his coffee can, margerine tub & swizzle stick drum set where only seconds before he was a-rap atat tapping to "With a little help from my friends" or "The Idiot bastard Son".

Then came the 70's, well, the late 70's, when at age 14 or so, Scott finally decided to pick up his guitar and play. Like most aspiring rockers, Scott realized he'd have to lock himself in his room until he was satisfied he could play. So, after about a week, with 7 or 8 chords under his belt, Scott left his stinking bedroom & started writing songs. And write songs he did! Piles & piles of 'em. A varitable mountain of crap. And Scott looked at the work he had done & saw that it was Bad. But not that bad.... for from that stack of 4 or 5 note books filled with some 350 songs sprang the genius songster we all don't know but lots of people love.

Then came high school, more songs, some proto-bands and the meeting between Scott & Dave.