A brief history of Jackson music

Wednesday, November 23rd. Thanksgiving eve, 2005.

This is also the eve of my return to live music for the first time in 17 years. If this were 10-12 years ago, I would be courting the feeling that pumas were attempting to exit my body through my stomach. I imagine I know how John Hurt felt in "Alien". However, I realize now that I pretty much have no dignity and nothing to lose. It’s quite relaxing, in a way…

A brief aside: Throughout my live career (from age 14 to 27), I constantly battled pre-gig jitters. I would be nervous as hell, but as soon as the first chord pounded me in the back, serenity would envelope me and I would enjoy the ride. Even the fuck-ups. But the jitters always hit me. When I get really nervous, I get sleepy. It wasn’t uncommon for me to be curled up under the drum riser taking a nap 5 minutes before show-time. So pre-Pluto Gang in the mid eighties, I was in a band known as Square Root of Now. We got tapped to open for the Power Station (you remember, the ex-Duran guys) at the Mississippi Coliseum. They were a hair band, we were a hair band. There were several thousand screaming teenage girls. A huge stage. Great lights. I was in heaven. And on the verge of vomiting a porcupine! Sure enough, 20 minutes before we started, I was sitting in the dressing room in a folding chair with my head bent over the back, sound asleep. For years, people would tell me they couldn’t believe how calm I was. Ha!

Anyway…

So back in the eighties, (that would be the period from 1980 to 1989) there came to be a phenomenon known as a local scene. The undercurrent was known as college radio (this was before the term “indie” was really around) and was a large part of what, for that time, would later be known as the southern indie rock scene. The best known band of this genre would end up being Athens, Georgia’s own R.E.M. But they were the luckiest. There were far better bands to be had. The dBs and Let’s Active out of North Carolina (fronted by Mitch Easter, an excellent musician and writer, as well as the guy who produced all the cool shit there was!), Jason and the Scorchers from Tennessee, the B-52s, also from Georgia, and Jackson’s own Windbreakers, fronted by Tim Lee and Bobby Sutliff.

The Windbreakers had the best career and garnered some really good national press. Unfortunately they were never able to quite land that major label contract. But that didn’t slow them down. Bobby would eventually go off and do his solo stuff, Tim would do his solo stuff, but he would also occasionally tour as the Windbreakers (I was fortunate enough to be tapped to do two extended tours as a sideman!). Both Bobby and Tim have enjoyed good careers. But they were just the tip of the iceberg.

During these “salad days”, Jackson had a shitload of bands. There were Oral Sox, Beat Temptations, Radio London (they would eventually become The Big Picture), Square Root of Now, Perfect Strangers and lots more that my addled brain is having trouble remembering the names of. Then, of course, there was our band Pluto Gang. All of these bands released records. All of these bands were very different. But we were also willing to help each other out. Many of these bands would cross-pollinate for gigs and sessions. No one really had the big head. Well, okay… I did! But we were there for each other and it was nice. We all wanted major label deals but would settle for indie label. Don’t forget, this was back when independent labels were truly independent, not some sister company to the bigs. We all gathered varying amounts of regional or local attention, college radio airplay and press. Terminal Recording Studios was just coming into it's prime, and producer/engineer Randy Everett built up his chops recording most of us, and in the meantime helped turn "The Terminal" into a state-of-the-art masterpiece that had it's share of national acts and even a few Grammy Awards on the wall.

The hub of the local scene was W.C. Don’s. In case you don’t know, that stands for “We Can’t Decide on a Name”. It was an ever-evolving hell-hole with a back wall about 3 yards from the Illinois Central mainline. I can’t recall there ever being 4 complete walls. The location of the stage and bar would change from week to week. It was long and narrow, low and dim. The cops hated it. They did everything in their power to shut it down. Of course, the crowd was pretty unruly. While Jackson, Mississippi never had a punk scene, we did have a few proto-punks and general hooligans. But it was mostly drunk kids in the parking lot and wandering around the neighborhood peeing in yards at 3AM. The southern indie scene paraded through Don’s. Every tour I ever did started and ended there. In fact, the last gig I ever did was there. But it was also our link to a huge network of musicians that gave a shit. Bands from all over the country came through there, and if you ended up getting a gig in Nashville, or Hoboken, Champagne, Chicago, Atlanta, Birmingham, you could call up one of the bands there and crash on their floor. Even if you didn’t know these people, the local promoter did and would hook you up.

Yes, those were the salad days.

So I’m playing Don’s again tomorrow. Terry has moved to a new building, though. It’s still long (much longer) and narrow, pretty low and maybe not quite as dim. It’s also 3 floors, has all 4 walls, A/C, pretty good plumbing and now food. The ubiquitous strategic demolition is also present. This is usually where Terry wakes up at 4AM and decides to put in a new restroom, takes out the sheetrock in the old one and promptly goes back to sleep. But it is home to many.

The scene is no longer what it was. All of the old guys (and girls) either moved or just quit playing. Some still record. Of course, Tim and Bobby are still at it. Jeff Lewis (Radio London) records constantly and is getting ready to release on Paisley Pop. This is also where Tim and others have landed. Robin Sutliff is still around, making occasional appearances. Sherry Cothren – one of the city’s least recognized great songwriters – is still writing somewhere, I hope. She gave me some lyrics once about her deranged, gun-toting, racist landlady. It became “Mary From MS” on our first release. It’s still a recording that I am proud of.

Tomorrow’s gig started off as a “vintage musician” reunion idea. The plan was that Tim and Bobby, J.T. from Oral Sox, Tuck Tucker, Joe Partridge, Jeff, Sherry, Robin and no telling how many others would have a night. I wanted the opening slot, but it all fell through. Now we’ll be opening for the (I think) only local band to get a contract with a big label (Capital). They are called King Elementary. They are young. There is also a rumor that the contract they have was actually bought by rich parents. All I know is they didn’t want us to open for them, but Terry talked them into it (since I had started putting out flyers weeks ago). So it seems as if there is no spirit of kinship. And their crowd will probably hate us. Possibly even boo us off the stage!

But, as I said, I have no dignity and nothing to lose. I am anxious to strap on the axe and see if I am still capable of windmilling my fingers to a bloody pulp. The guys all want to get back in the studio and start recording. Free mp3s soon to follow.

But my passion is still and will always be the live performance. I am excited and scared, but strangely calm. I’m sure I will be sleeping soon. And people will admire my steely reserve!