Conversations with Jim, Part Two

J--Any thoughts on Bo Diddley given the latest news?

Jim-- Just that there's one less giant walking the earth now. I read about his stroke last year on CNN's ticker, but I thought he'd get better. I always harbor these fantasies of going into the studio and producing albums by my idols. I'm starting to run out of idols.

J-- When you played with Bo Diddley, one of the things I remember about that night was a woman at the front of the crowd practically stripping to the music. We all couldn’t take our eyes off her! I guess you never know how audiences will react to the performance. What is the strangest thing you have witnessed when looking out at the crowd during one of your performances?

Jim-- That's a tough one, since I used to play in biker bands in Texas and Illinois, and there were just too many memorable incidents to recount here. And when you play for Deadheads and such, damn near everything they do looks strange, so where do you draw the line? One time the blues band I played bass for in Texas got to play at this biker party that people brought children to, and later there were several girls competing in what started as a wet t-shirt contest, but ended up a naked dancing contest. With the kids sitting there watching, mind you. Probably watching their own moms. As we played an endless blues shuffle, the winner was rolling around naked on the freshly cut grass, and wound up covered with grass clippings and chigger bites. Hot stuff. At one of my open mic nights a brother and sister got up to "perform", and the sister suddenly punched her brother in the face. I mean just cleaned his clock, for no reason any of us could discern. She wound up falling off the stage and landing face down on the floor below. Nobody came to her aid. Always drink responsibly, kids. One guy handed me a note as he left an open mic night while I was playing, and at the end of the night I finally read it -- he was a step away from strapping a bomb around his waist. It wasn't my gig, but I did see a woman wet her pants once. When she fled to the bathroom, the drummer on stage said into his mic, "Wow! We've never gotten that kind of response before!" And of course, fights will break out on occasion. But to me, the weirdest response is when guys, usually fellow guitarists, stand right in front of me with a blank stare. I've not yet learned how to react to that.

J-- Open mic nights - were you ever blown away by someone who showed up for one of these? Did you ever have to tell someone "cut your losses and try something next time within your reach"?

Jim-- There were plenty of times I was blown away. There's a girl here named Summer Johnson who sings like a woman possessed, and I mean that in a good way. Every time she came in it was a treat. One of my former guitar students named Marah Bobilin was also a terrific singer, and she would sometimes put together a complete show for her set, involving her and her band wearing Mexican wrestling masks, playing surf guitar instrumentals, singing numbers that would show off her multi-octave voice, etc.. There was a hip hop group that came in and had a very prepared set that knocked me out, although a lot of people in the room were openly hostile to them, which made their performance all the more impressive. I don't remember what they called themselves, but boy were they good. There was a soul singer and guitarist named Robert something, and he would literally make up tunes on the spot, and he always amazed me, even though he was rarely sober. Quite a few guitarists were not shabby as well; Huntsville has a surplus of terrific guitar players. The surf band Daikaiju started out playing at my open mic nights, and they went on to tour and have records on iTunes. I played in an offshoot surf band with their guitarist, Santanu Mitra; we called ourselves the Rocket Scientists. Several performers have become good friends, and some I wound up playing in other bands with later on. As far as giving somebody the hook, I've always looked at open mic nights as amateur hour, meaning that everyone who comes in should understand that these aren't seasoned pros for the most part. If they stink, that's their right. And it's a variety show; if you don't like whoever's up there right now, wait ten minutes. I got a lot of grief from club owners and audience members (many of whom were also would-be performers) because I didn't insist on applying any standard of quality. If I had, many of the ones complaining would've been the first cut, because they were often so boring. But I've always believed that the best musicians are the ones willing to make fools of themselves in public. That's how you learn to get better. And a bunch of those regulars got pretty great as time went on. Of course, some didn't, too, but then my GPA was never very impressive, either.

J-- You mention that Clapton has had his moments. What do you see as a highlight?

Jim-- Well, the original "Layla" and "Bell Bottom Blues" still hit the bullseye, despite decades of heavy rotation on Classic Rock Radio. To clarify what I was complaining about before, the Layla album was a case where Clapton went beyond the constrictions of "blues", by applying an Abbey Road-style songwriting and production strategy, and not only did he cough up a hit, but he also made a record that was truer to the spirit of the blues than any of his more purist attempts. And he's spent his career running away from that kind of emotional exposure, even though that's what he claims to love about the blues. But then, all those post-Monterey "rock" icons benefit from a double standard. I mean, as you know, I'm a huge Elvis fan, and he got accused of selling out for putting out a bunch of movie soundtracks, but at least those had the frequent "bonus tracks" where he's do a transcendent Dylan cover, or a funky Jimmy Reed tune, and some of the soundtracks themselves weren't bad at all, like Kid Galahad and Viva Las Vegas. But in any case, he made some damn good records even during that fallow period, and somehow kept faith with the idea that music ought to be emotionally honest. In the course of his career, his failures were as spectacular as his successes. But now we still have Rod Stewart treated like a rock god even though he hasn't made an interesting record in thirty-plus years. He wouldn't know emotional honesty if it kicked him in the balls. The Who regroup every few years for yet another "farewell tour". Sting has taken up the lute to prove what an erudite, cultured kind of guy he is -- remember how the Police were once considered a "punk-influenced" band? People need to see through the hype and the "conventional wisdom" about what artists are up to.

J-- What a good singer brings to a song is at least as important as songwriting, I would agree. But I have to admit, I do have a problem with the non-multi-tasker, the singer that does not play an instrument as well. Some can pull it off, but there are a lot of frontmen and women who need to be distracted by an instrument because they’re not engaging enough to stand up there with just their voice. What do you think?

Jim-- You must have been thinking of me when you dreamed up that question. I'm the poster boy for Please-Don't-Forget-Your-Guitar. The one time I ever tried singing without my ax I couldn't remember any of the words. I just stood there like an idiot. You're right, it takes a special kind of charisma to be able to stand up there with no props to hide behind. Bruce Springsteen tries it sometimes, and just looks plain awkward, although John Mellencamp has better luck. Elvis pulled it off, though he was even better when he had his guitar strapped on. Same with Prince. The ones who manage it are always great dancers, like James Brown, Jackie Wilson, Michael Jackson, or at least have some unique moves, like Robert Plant, Axl Rose, Madonna in her choreographed way. David Lee Roth was a kick to watch both times I saw him, though not so much lately. Iggy Pop was certainly an original; anyone who can abuse himself with peanut butter and broken glass should get a nod in the history books for sure. All the footage I've ever seen of Johnny Rotten was cool-looking. Someone described his look onstage as "singing into a wind tunnel", which sums it up pretty well. Joey Ramone made a virtue of his own dorkitude, sort of like being the proud owner of a Corvair. That's the secret -- stand tall, be proudly yourself. But most of us still need a cool crutch.

J-- I fell in love with the Allison Krauss/Robert Plant record as well. It didn’t seem far off the mark in terms of style for Krauss. What was Plant bringing to the table?

Jim-- That voice and that attitude. I think even at their most airy-fairy, Led Zeppelin must have always seen their music as an outgrowth of '50s big beat rock 'n' roll, which is to say Americana. His singing style has its roots in Gene Vincent, especially the groaning sexuality. The Krauss/Plant record sounds to me like early rock 'n' roll as remembered in a feverish dream, where the drums sound like some primitive ritual, the guitars throb through a Bo Diddley-ish tremolo, the singers sound like they're looking you in the eye and they mean business. And boy do they harmonize well, too. In some ways, I think it was more of a stretch for Alison Krauss than for Robert Plant, since she normally doesn't front a rhythm section with drums, just a small acoustic bluegrass lineup. I was glad I got to catch them live. And I'm glad the record has done well, in spite of mainstream radio treating it like leprosy. There are quite a few records out right at the moment that probably won't get any airplay, like that new Gnarls Barkley. Al Green's new one produced by ?uestlove from the Roots is his best in thirty years, but where will you hear it? I suppose I should fork over the bucks for cable radio. For people like me old enough to remember when radio was a lifeline, these are tough times.