Alex Chilton left us night before last. If you don’t know his music, I can tell you in brief that he grew up in Memphis, sang lead for the Box Tops on hits like “The Letter”, “Soul Deep”, and “Cry Like a Baby”. In the early 1970s he formed a band called Big Star and released three albums—all underground classics. After that, Chilton flirted around the edges of punk rock and rockabilly with revivalists like The Cramps and Tav Falco and Panther Burns. For a while he “disappeared”. Then in the mid-1980s he “reappeared” with new songs and new records.
He released albums and EPs and toured regularly and then sporadically until his death.
His music was really important to me and a lot of my friends, especially the music he made with Big Star. But several of his solo records stand out for me—”Like Flies On Sherbert”, for one especially. It’s broken music, but funny and strangely beautiful.
Anyway, I could go on and on. Suffice to say that from the first time I listened to “#1 Record” and “Radio City” on a cassette that Bobby Sutfliff handed me after a WC Don’s gig in Jackson, Mississippi in 1986, through the first time I got to see Alex perform—not long after Bobby handed over the cassette, Will and the Bushmen opened for Alex at a pretty much triumphant show at The Nick (it was so packed that the Birmingham police shut the show down after about 45 minutes). For years after that, the Bushmen opened for Alex. I opened for Alex solo.
I have some good stories. I’ll write more on it.
The last time I saw Alex, we were staying in the same hotel in Oxford, Mississippi, both playing the Double Decker Festival. Alex was with the reformed Big Star, with half of the Posies and original (and brilliant) drummer Jody Stephens. We walked out of our rooms at the same time and spent a few minutes catching up. I had my wife and kids in my room. He was a 50 year old bachelor, kind of a wry, lonely fellow, smoking and squinting thoughtfully into the near distance as I explained how it really wasn’t all that complicated to keep a family together. I am not sure he was totally convinced.
He was a hero to me. My friend Eric and I played along to the first two Big Star records yesterday. We got our fill, and then went down to the beach and played with our kids.
RIP, LX Chilton. A lot of people love your music.
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CMT Crossroads aired tonight and it looked and sounded great. “Wings” was cut from the final edit of the show, but “Nobody From Nowhere” made it, and it did rock. My hat is off to Jimmy Buffett and the Coral Reefer Band and the Zac Brown Band—-they deserve their success and I’m happy to be along for part of the ride.
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I’ll see some of you in Conroe, Texas tomorrow night at the Creighton Theater show with Rodney Crowell.
RIP Alex. Cheers, Jimmy.