Benny Doro holding his Les Paul in his West New York apartment in 2012.

Music & identity · West New York · May 12, 2012

Tease the Hair.
Grab the Les Paul.

Business filled the calendar. Music never left the room.

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13 archival photographsOne deliberate timestamp

A little timestamp

Sometimes you need to remember who you still are.

By 2012, business and business travel had claimed most of Benny's time. He was still recording and playing, but he was no longer touring or performing live. One bright morning at home in West New York, he decided to put a marker down.

“Once in a while, you've got to put a little timestamp on where you're at in your life.”

— Benny Doro

This was not a comeback announcement or a formal portrait session. It was Benny asking a simple question: if he stepped back into that identity today, what would it look like?

The answer was already in the room—a jean jacket, a Marshall amplifier, a Les Paul, and enough hair to channel his inner Paul Stanley.

Listen to Benny

The Musician Never Left

Benny explains why he made the photographs, what business had displaced, and what happened after the camera was put away.

“I was still recording lots of music, still playing all the time. I just wasn't doing anything live or touring.”

Original narration · 1 minute 5 seconds · preserved unchanged

Narration transcript

In Benny's Words

Lightly punctuated from Benny's original narration. Select a time to return to that moment in the recording.

Hey, once in a while you've got to put a little timestamp on where you're at in your life.

I had been working so hard on some business and traveling for business. I hadn't done a whole lot with music, although I would be happy to grab my guitar and do a few things.

I thought, you know what? Today I'm going to put a little stamp on what it would look like if I was going to be doing this today.

Tease the hair. Grab the Les Paul.

I was still recording lots of music, still playing all the time. I just wasn't doing anything live or touring.

It really didn't interest me that much, because touring around with businesses can be just as exciting. We'll get more into that later.

Anyways, I threw on a jean jacket and thought, you know, I'll channel my inner Paul Stanley the best I can. I took these photos, and I think I went and recorded a song afterwards.

I think I might have done “You Love Me to Hate You” from Hot in the Shade. So I think I did.

But this was before. Hey—for posterity, not bad.

Human-readable draft · Original recording remains authoritative

The transformation

It did not take much.

No stage. No makeup. No audience. Just a familiar instrument and the part of Benny that knew exactly what to do when the camera came on.

Benny Doro holding his Les Paul close to his chest. — The musician, still there.

A close portrait of Benny Doro in his West New York apartment. — Before the guitar.

Benny Doro holding his Les Paul upright. — After.

Benny Doro holding his Les Paul across his lap.

Between two lives

The calendar had changed. The identity had not.

Touring had been replaced by businesses, flights and meetings. Yet the photographs do not show a former musician attempting to recreate the past. They show a musician who had simply been busy doing something else.

“Touring around with businesses can be just as exciting.”

West New York

Rock and roll in broad daylight.

The apartment refuses to become a backstage fantasy. The chairs, rug, coffee table and hard morning light remain visible. That ordinary setting is precisely what makes the pictures honest.

Benny seated in the bright apartment before posing with the guitar.

Benny with the guitar crossing the frame.

After the photographs

Then he went back to the music.

Benny remembers that after the short portrait session, he may have recorded “You Love Me to Hate You” from KISS's Hot in the Shade. The camera preserved the pose. The narration preserves what came next.