Date: Thursday, November 1, 1990 Section: CURRENT Page: 16

By SEAN KOTZ, Special to the Roanoke Times & World-News

 BLACKSBURG

 Drummer Tim Taylor is one of the most respected and easily recognized people in the New River Valley. In 10 years he's been in dozens of bands and has traveled all over the country trying to attain a nearly impossible goal: making it big in the music world.

 But now, as the newest member of the local rock and roll favorite Electric Woodshed, Taylor says he has a feeling that this band might be able to do it.

 "You know when you're leaning back on a chair, and you're just about to fall over and you catch yourself at the last second? Well, that's about how this band feels all the time."

 According to the other members of Electric Woodshed, the feeling is critical for a band's survival. Contrary to the stereotype, it is not all fun and games.

 Guitarist-vocalist Craig Counts, who founded Electric Woodshed in 1986, says the sheer thrill of performing is the fuel that drives the band year after year - despite all the "negative aspects" of being in rock 'n' roll.

 Although most of the band members have full-time day jobs, they would prefer to make their living from performing.

 "It's a lot of hard work, but when the music is right, it's the most incredible release in the world. The hard work pays."

 How much hard work goes into maintaining a hard-working band?

 According to bassist Stu Salmon, just keeping the band going can demand personal sacrifices. "I've moved twice in the past year to just keep playin' with the band."

 And, as Counts says, Woodshed is painfully familiar with the traveling-band blues - rushed set-ups and late nights. A typical night on the road to Roanoke starts with the loading of equipment six hours before show time in Blacksburg.

 "We tell our people we need to get here by 4 so we can leave by 6, and we get out by 7. And then we may still show up two hours later."

 "But we still set up in time," said Counts. "We freak out a lot of people when we show up so late. But then, boom boom, we set up and we usually start right on time."

 At the end of a show comes the exhausting process of "breaking down," packing up and getting back on the road.

 "One of the hardest things to do," said guitarist-vocalist Danny Dunlap, "is driving home at 3 a.m. after you've played all night."

 "The driver is usually bug-eyed, yelling, `Hey, Stu! Keep me up!' " said Jonathan Barker, the keyboard player.

 Barker, who must cram equipment into his Ford Escort wagon, says he's lucky if he has room for a passenger.

 Another important consideration is pleasing a wide variety of audiences between Northern Virginia and West Virginia.

 Though the band plays mostly Southern blues-rock covers, such as Allman Brothers tunes, the players really want the audience to feel good and often will try to accommodate requests, even if they have never played them before.

 "At our last gig, for instance, we even played some surf music."

 And though they have never gotten a negative reaction, some gigs are harder to play than others.

 "Here's a good scenario," said Dunlap. "You drive an hour and a half to a bar where the stairs are long and thin. You load down in there; people are drunk and screamin' at you all night, and you load out and you've only pulled 20 bucks apiece."

 "As far as the average workings of a band," said Taylor, "it's a pain.

 "You've gotta deal with practice time, you gotta deal with equipment, vehicles, the actual traveling, places to eat, people you don't know."

 And, as Dunlap reminded him, "You gotta deal with cops."

 Not that Electric Woodshed doesn't appreciate a state trooper's job, but a potential ticket is something to consider when you've got a long drive ahead.

 Of course, if all were bad, "The Shed," as their fans affectionately call them, would have faded out a long time ago.

 "All the problems we have," said Tim Taylor, "are nothing when you know you're going to be playing, 'cause when you're playin' the tunes, nothing else matters."

 And there are other rewards unique to a traveling band. Craig Counts said the Salem Omelette Shop is a regular stop on Interstate 81 for its pork-chop dinners.

 But more to the point, he said, "They've got a new juke box in the Salem Omelette Shop now and they've got a version of Lester Flatt and Earle Scruggs doin' `Like a Rolling Stone.'"

 Even the longest drive, it seems, can be balanced out with pork-chop dinners washed down with a little Flatt and Scruggs.