Behind the Hits

Denny Tedesco ’83 is the son of one of L.A.’s most important session musicians, the late guitarist Tommy Tedesco. Tommy led the Wrecking Crew, a backing corps that helped make hits from the 1960s to mid-’80s for Frank Sinatra, Nat “King” Cole, the Righteous Brothers, the Beach Boys, Sonny & Cher, the Monkees, the Mamas and the Papas, and many, many more. Tedesco’s documentary “The Wrecking Crew” spells out the influence of the behind-the-scenes musical giants, including Hal Blaine, Carol Kaye, Glen Campbell,and others. Tedesco followed it with “Immediate Family,” a film about the next-generation sessions group that dominated ’80s and ’90s L.A. recording studios and who still perform. Gail Mitchell ’75, executive director of R&B/Hip-Hop at Billboard magazine, interviewed Tedesco about his films and the struggles in making them. — The Editor

What was it like growing up with your dad, Tommy Tedesco? When did you know that he was somebody?

Dad and Mom didn’t move to California until about 1953. Dad doesn’t really start working as a musician regularly until 1958–59. In the early ’60s, he’s killing it full time, working 12–14 hours a day. So, Dad never practiced at home. I knew he was a guitar player, but that didn’t mean anything to me. So, I never saw my dad with a guitar at home until the mid- to late ’70s, when he started doing his own jazz albums. My dad was like any other dad who went to work: Instead of having a saw and a hammer in his trunk, he had a 12-string guitar, a Telecaster, and an acoustic guitar in his car all the time.

People might think all the artists and musicians would have been hanging out at your home. But from what you’re saying, that wasn’t the case. No. There was no hootenanny at home. The music I was hearing was the music my older brother was playing, or the Beach Boys, Jan and Dean — all those rock albums of the early ’60s that my dad was working on. At that point, I didn’t know what albums he was on. My dad didn’t know some of the stuff he was on. Years later, Jimmy Webb, the writer, won a Song of the Year Grammy for “Up, Up and Away.” It was backed up by the Wrecking Crew. He gave my father a gift, a Grammy bracelet charm. My father didn’t even know he was on it. It’s funny, because you say to him, “How did you not know you were on it?” After my father leaves the session, he’s moved on to 12 other pieces that day.

Was your mom into music? Did she play anything?

Oh God, no. She would play accordion. She had eight bars that she remembered as a kid, like eight bars of “Tarantella.” But if it weren’t for my mom, my father would not have had a career. Dad had an answering service in those days. The answering service was the key thing to these musicians’ lives, because studios would call and ask, “Hey, are you available tonight?” If they don’t get a call back, the studio goes down the list to the next guy. So, at our house, my mom was there to answer the phone. We had four phone lines. The first one was the main line, and then we got a second one, then a third and fourth for the kids. There was no way my dad was going to lose a job because one of us is on the phone.

Did you have any favorite groups or genres growing up?

It’s funny that you ask that, because singer/songwriter music was never my favorite. I can’t hear a lyric to save my life. My mind does not kick in. I loved Jackson Browne’s “Doctor My Eyes,” but I was really into Earth, Wind & Fire, Tower of Power, Average White Band. In high school I was into a lot of jazz stuff, R&B, Marvin Gaye. I couldn’t tell you what Marvin Gaye was singing, but I was much more into that sound. In college, I would book some jazz groups at the Bird Nest at LMU. I booked my father there a few times, and Robben Ford, Joe Farrell, and Tim Bogert. My father was such an influence, because he had Chick Corea albums, Return to Forever, Jeff Beck, and George Benson. But when the Immediate Family came around, I got to relearn music. I was never an Andrew Gold fan. Then I put on “Lonely Boy,” which has a guitar solo by Waddy Wachtel, of the Immediate Family. I went crazy over that.

Did you play an instrument?

I tried to play everything, but I didn’t play every day. That was my biggest problem. At Notre Dame High School, we were taught by Holy Cross brothers. I wanted to get out of typing class so bad. We had manual typewriters. The teacher had marching music on, and you had to keep time with the music. If you got caught looking at the keys, he’d hit you with a ruler. After six months, I said to the dean, “Can I join band? My dad’s a musician, I would like to really learn music.” He said, “OK.” I became a banner carrier, but I was a good banner carrier!

How does LMU fit in this picture?

I went to LMU to try to write. Being a writer is like being a musician: You have to write every day. I didn’t have that in me. I was like a squirrel, running left to right. I just wasn’t focused enough. When I got out of school, I went into gripping and lighting. My first roommate at Loyola was Wayne Whiteman. We opened up a stage together, and we were doing a lot of rock videos. Then gripping and lighting turned into a chance to do IMAX films, and the great thing about IMAX films is that sometimes you’re 25% or 33% of the crew. So, there’s only three or four of you out there in the bush somewhere, and you have more responsibility. I liked that. That’s how I got into producing.

How did you pivot into doing the documentary on the Wrecking Crew?

In 1988, at my stage with Wayne, I did a jazz video about my dad’s album, and it played on VH1. Then in 1996, my dad got terminal cancer. So, I thought, I want to tell the story of the Wrecking Crew. The first thing I did was put together a round table with dad, Plas Johnson, Hal Blaine, and Carol Kaye. I based that on seeing dad and the musicians in the studios, or at things like card games or golf games. The banter and playfulness that they had really resonated with me. I remember seeing “Broadway Danny Rose,” the Woody Allen film. In that film, all the managers and agents keep talking about Danny Rose, the Woody Allen character, in a deli. So, I put together the round table idea to see what happens. I wanted to be a voyeur, I wanted to listen in on the conversations. That was the basis of my documentary. It’s become the basis of both my docs.

Then dad passed away in November 1997, and he never saw a piece of the film. Where I blew it is my father had another eight to 10 months after that round table. I should have been interviewing him all the way through. By the time I got to him, he was way too weak.

So, by that point, I had interviewed Nancy Sinatra and Dick Clark. I created a nice 14-minute teaser. Everybody said, “This is great. We’d love to see more.” And I said, “Well, I need money to do more.” Other people would say, “You’re never going to get so-and-so because you’re never going to get the labels, artists, and publishers to all agree on this. It’s going to cost way too much.” So, from 1997 to 1998 I just kept shooting an interview here and an interview there. Then around 2006, 10 years after we started, my wife and I have a lot of debt. She is looking at this and says, “We just made the most expensive home movie ever. And we got nothing to show for it.” I kept going, created the film, got it into festivals. It did really, really well in 2008–09, with about a dozen awards and sell-out crowds. But no one’s helping financially. 

Making music docs was like a kiss of death at that point. There was an article in Variety about Martin Scorsese struggling with a Rolling Stones doc, Jonathan Demme with a Neil Young doc. And then Denny Tedesco fits in there with a Wrecking Crew doc. I’m thinking, “I’m on a page of a bunch of losers! This is so cool!” I’m just waiting for Marty to call me: “Hey, what’s going on?” 

So, 2010 came around, and I figure out the only way to get this film out is to pay off the licenses, which is probably about half a million dollars. I was trying to come up with marketing ideas. I have all this footage with all the guitar players: Glen Campbell, Dad, Bill Pitman. I thought the DVD is going to be great. Then one guy says, “Why don’t you do dedications? I’ll give you $1,000 right now for a dedication.” In the DVD I created a chapter of dedications. Then I created a 501(c) for donations. I also had private screenings and found sponsors. By the time Kickstarter came around, a few years later, I needed to raise $200,000 for the musicians’ union, and I ended up pulling in $300,000 because I kept marketing and creating an army of fans. I call them “Wreckers.” That’s how I raised over half a million dollars, and then I got Magnolia Pictures to pick it up. 

You said once that you were hesitant about doing the Immediate Family documentary. Why were you hesitant?

“The Wrecking Crew” came out in 2015, and I went bankrupt. I was shell-shocked. What am I going to do? All I have is a bunch of trophies that say what a great film I have. But I knew that didn’t help me. I knew that putting my family at risk was a really dangerous thing. But I had to keep going. I crossed the line where there’s no turning back. Then, the idea for the “Immediate Family” came about, and I thought that’s a great idea. We had investors come in, private investors. So, we raised the money and started. We pitched to the band first: Russ Kunkel, Waddy Wachtel, Danny Kortchmar, and Leland Sklar — I knew all these guys. They liked the idea. The next day they said Carole King can be interviewed in three weeks when she’s here in L.A. “Oh, my God. Now it’s real,” I thought. Then I get the news that Linda Ronstadt can do it, and Jackson Browne, James Taylor, and Phil Collins. By Christmas 2019, I had about eight or nine stars, which is not bad. Then COVID hits. Now the world’s coming to an end. We’re worried about everybody who is older than 60, and all my people are in their 70s. What are we gonna’ do? We had to continue somehow. We slowly went out and got their story on tape, and that’s how it worked. 

What is your take on the recent proliferation of biopics and documentaries involving music? Is the field becoming too crowded?

That’s a really hard question to answer. The problem with music docs — any doc — is they’re not money makers. If my doc cost a million dollars, it could take a couple years to make it back. So, you got to be careful with how you spend your money. Right now, I don’t think it’s going to be too crowded. I remember my father’s team talking about how the Beatles killed the horns. Horns were big in the early ’60s, then came all the guitar groups, and then strings. It’ll go through phases, just like music. I know my films are not groundbreaking films. My first film, “The Wrecking Crew,” was a personal film to me, but it didn’t start that way. It was always going to be about this group of musicians. Another director said, “Why are you guys cutting the film like this? You’re cutting a history doc. But you have a chance to share something that none of us can, and that’s your relationship with it.” So, I went with that and took a chance. And it wasn’t a music film anymore. It became something that everybody can relate to. Yeah, the music’s great, but it can’t be just a jukebox doc. You have to find something at the heart of it. It always comes back to family. The first one was about family, about my father and his extended family, the Wrecking Crew. That’s why I jumped on the Immediate Family, because they had a band, and the reason they had a band called family is they love each other. To me, that’s the key, that is the thread that keeps it going.

What is the legacy that you want to leave your children?

All I want them to know is, Dad never quit. Mark Marin was interviewing Herb Alpert once, and my name came up about the Wrecking Crew film. Herb Alpert says about me, “My God, he was like a pit bull. He would never give up.” I take that as a compliment. Every stone needs to be upturned to see what’s underneath it. And be kind to people. My parents were really kind to people, and that’s helped me through the years. My mom and dad helped so many people when they were in the business.

Gail Mitchell is executive director of R&B/hip-hop at Billboard magazine. A frequent contributor to LMU Magazine, her “L.A.’s Mexican Melody,” about the Mata family and mariachi music in Los Angeles, appeared in the fall 2024 issue of LMU Magazine. In May 2025, that article was a named a finalist for Culture News/Profiles in the 2025 L.A. Press Club Southern California Journalism Awards. Crucial research for this interview with Denny Tedesco was provided by Alex Vitoulis.