With the disgusting passage (like thieves in the night) of that heinous, sadistic federal "budget package," this is a time of great sorrow, fear and division throughout the country.

Rather than dwell even more on that hijacking and obliteration of care, kindness and our leaders' solemn obligations to their constituents, I will instead mention that today marks the 84th anniversary of the birth of Bob Dylan (who, incredibly, is playing a huge outdoor gig tonight at the Cascades Amphitheater in Ridgefield, WA, along with Willie Nelson & Family, Billy Strings, Sierra Hull, and others), and point you towards perhaps the single greatest song and studio recording he ever created (and one that is CRIMINALLY overlooked).

Below is the full, unedited version of this 2003 track, whose lyrics briefly interpolate lines from the works of noted (if in some cases, quite esoteric) authors Herman Melville, W.B. Yeats, Henry Lynden Flash, Nathaniel Graham Shepherd, Henry Timrod, and songwriters Julia Ward Howe,  and Frank Perkins and Mitchell Parish.

It's one of the most beautiful, harrowing and poetic evocations of the horrors of the American Civil War ever conceived, and as such it is almost incomprehensibly timely at this delicate juncture in our nation's tortured history.

As Pulitzer Prize finalist, Princeton American History Professor and noted Dylan authority Sean Wilentz says of this composition:

"In twelve remarkable verses, Dylan essays a civil war history, a visionary history of humanity and a grimly insightful summation of the likely path ahead for us all. It’s a strange, sad species that would choose maintaining a grip on destructive reality, but it is our world; and in Dylan’s hands it is brought into stark focus, and seems all the more revealing of our true nature because of it, as in charting our dreams, our strife and our struggles, he shows that the best and worst of who we are, who we were and who we can be are all strands of a single thread. An elegy, a tribute and a lament, this song is beautifully hewn tale of tragedy that reaches far beyond its overt themes and into the hearts and minds of all who seek to walk a clearer path in a confusing world."

There simply is no other artist working today who could come close to this synthesis of thought, feeling and musical expression.

Whether you are a fan of his art or not, we are all lucky to live in the same timeline as Dylan.

I recommend listening to the tune below without interruption or distraction, and ideally via headphones, for maximum fidelity, as the production value of the stellar recording is matched only by the restraint and finesse of the musicians involved (who are rumored to be: Dylan [piano], Charlie Sexton [guitar, violin], Larry Campbell [guitar, violin], George Receli [drums], Benmont Tench [organ], and Tony Garnier [bass]) and Bob's mesmerizing vocal performance. 

Stay safe, everyone, and thanks for subscribing to WickedMessenger.com.

When it comes to music, do you consider yourself an adventurous listener? Do you seek out and often appreciate challenging artists who openly strive to defy convention and instead of slaving to create some sort of polished, pop perfection, aim instead to aggressively blend disparate genres ― or ignore altogether the artificial constraints created by such arbitrary definitions?

Do you have “big ears”?

If you answered yes to any of the above questions, you might have found yourself standing as close to the low stage at downtown Savannah’s El Rocko Lounge as humanly possible a few nights ago, on March 31, when our fair city played host to the area’s first-ever live appearance by mssv, the critically-lauded rock/punk/jazz/psychedelic/spoken word power trio led by guitarist and frontman Mike Baggetta and featuring bassist (and occasional vocalist) Mike Watt and drummer and percussionist Stephen Hodges.

I was heartbroken to have been out of town for this rare chance to enjoy what was likely the very best $15 an adventurous listener could spend in the Historic District this year. Had I been around, I would have considered it an infinitesimally small investment in my spiritual and emotional well-being.

Truth be told, Baggetta (the cat who conceived the band, composes the vast majority of the material and invited the other two guys to join) won’t be too awfully thrilled with me describing the group as I did a couple of paragraphs above. I used words like “rock” and “punk” and “jazz,” while he essentially resists being pigeonholed into any of those categories. Instead, he and his compatriots have coined the phrase “post-genre power trio” as their preferred descriptor.

“I like thinking of it (that way),” he told a PBS cameraman a couple of years ago at a live taping of one of the group’s shows. “We’re three people, with three equal parts and three equal voices in the band. And one thing I get from both of these guys ―and have gotten for years before I even got to know them― was the fact that you don’t have to have these divisions in music. The best thing about music is when you don’t have these dividing lines and you can make something new and original out of it. So, that’s what this band is about.”

If you are unfamiliar with the music and history of mssv (short for “main steam stop valve”), don’t feel bad, as despite recording and releasing one live album and three studio albums, this fairly under-the-radar group of extraordinarily baaddass instrumentalists exists almost entirely on the fringe of popular culture. Which is likely just as they envisioned. It’s where they can most thrive, without the type of artistic compromise or creative intervention which has traditionally been part and parcel of the commercial music biz.

The entire approach and repertoire of mssv is almost completely anathema to whatever most people are looking for out of an electric guitar, electric bass, two vocal mics and a trap drum kit. And these guys know it! The dip and sway and skronk and groove their way around melody and dissonance and spank and tickle like word jazz godfather Ken Nordine showing up unannounced at a vintage James Blood Ulmer or Sonny Sharrock gig.

The pedigree of the players involved speaks volumes to those with even a cursory knowledge of their back catalogs.

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Once more into the breach, dear readers. Or, should I say "listeners?"

The debut installment of the Wicked Messenger Radio Show was a musical potluck, but this one (which can be found at the bottom of this page) is our first-ever themed show. And once more, it's ONLY for those of you who have seen fit to support the site and newsletter at the paid, Premium Tier.

Thanks!

The annoying microphone issues which plagued our first episode have been remedied, and this one sounds much smoother to my ears. Hopefully you will all agree. There are 20 different songs by 20 different artists contained in this latest "adventure in Hi-Fi," and as always, I sincerely hope you enjoy both the music and the information contained therein. And, that the show points you in the direction of some artists and genres that you were perhaps unfamiliar with before now, and can now dig into much deeper on your own.

Don't forget that these shows are available to listen to whenever you feel like it. So, a few weeks or months from now, if you wish to revisit any of them, just head over here to the website, scroll back to find the particular episode you are looking for, and it will be waiting on you.

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I first met Tim Rutherford decades ago in Savannah. At the time, he was a visible newspaper guy with a reputation for being not only an easygoing and swell person to be around, but for also carrying a heartfelt love for quality food, wine and spirits.

He often channeled that passion for food and drink into his writing, and into the wide variety of food and beverage-themed tastings and events he either organized and promoted himself or helped publicize for others. Whether used in conjunction with an established specialty dining establishment or an alcohol distributor, vineyard or upstart restaurateur, Tim’s imprimatur carried weight with folks in the Coastal Empire who cared about such things as well.

We shared a number of mutual friends, yet never had the occasion to be around each other in-person for longer than an hour or so, and that was usually while dining near one another by happenstance, or attending the same function, gathering or party. But I always felt Tim was in some undefined way a kindred spirit. And not merely because we both had an obvious predilection for using our words (whether written or spoken) to point others towards topics or choices we felt were worth showcasing, as even a brief chat with the man never failed to brighten my day.

I had not seen him in ages and was vaguely aware that he had at some point left Savannah for the Blue Ridge Mountains of Western North Carolina, where the cooler weather and seasonal snow is a welcome change for those of us accustomed to life on the fetid, gnat-infested coast (but the dramatic increase in drum circles is most certainly not). However, Facebook’s algorithm would occasionally result in a post or two of his gracing my news feed. That’s where I recently learned of his understandable frustration with a particular National Public Radio reporter who had ― to aficionados of Southern cuisine ― recently committed an arguably unpardonable on-air sin.

Feeling a sense of simpatico with his own outrage at what could only be termed an egregious, nay heinous, lapse in both journalistic and gustatory integrity, I reached out to the good Mr. Rutherford immediately, and inquired if he would be up for discussing this shocking error in greater detail, for the benefit of my readership. He kindly agreed, and within less than 24 hours, we were on the phone for our most substantial conversation in more than a decade. It was a truly lovely chat, and as you’ll see from the transcript below (which has only been lightly edited for clarity and punctuation), we both spent a good deal of our time laughing.

These are perilous and spectacularly dispiriting times, and often I find I must be reminded just how important it is for one’s mental health to simply share a vibrant, fact-based, and unpredictable conversation that has absolutely nothing to do with the stomach-churning death spiral our society now finds itself in. My lengthy phone call with Tim wound up refueling my near empty gas tank of optimism for several days afterward. And it reminded me that people truly can step into a completely different living situation and find some semblance of happiness and contentment ― even if it does take longer than expected to find just how and where one fits into their new paradigm.

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Hey everyone, and thanks very much for your patience during my unintended absence from the site.

I spent the past two months in Baltimore, assisting a beloved family member prep for a big move down to Georgia, and since I last posted here, that move has taken place. I'm happy to say their new digs are beautiful, modern, clean, quiet and downright lovely.

Between helping to facilitate that relocation and arriving back in Savannah smack dab in the middle of the Savannah College of Art and Design's 45th Anniversary celebrations (which wound up including extremely rare visits to our fair city by loads of former students who I'd not seen in ages), I wound up knee-deep in responsibilities which prevented me from updating the site and the newsletter as often as planned. Over the next couple of weeks, I'll be making up for those omissions by posting new, additional articles and interviews which will bring all of you kind and generous paid supporters current with the frequency of my output which you were promised!

I am thrilled to say I have lots of great stuff in the pipeline which will only be available to those at the paid tier of subscription, so if you know of anyone you think would appreciate what I am doing here at Wicked Messenger, and who would like the opportunity to support a completely independent content creator directly in the same manner that you have, please do point them my way.

Currently, I've earned 1/6 of the number of paid subscribers required in order for me to simply pay my rent through the work I am doing on this site (which is my goal), and I am hopeful that once folks such as yourself start mentioning my heartfelt efforts to others, perhaps that can be realized sooner rather than later.

Since I first gave myself permission to conceive of Wicked Messenger, I knew I had no desire to run a subscription newsletter that featured only the written word. The notion of incorporating both audio and video was always part and parcel of this concept. My background in – and love for – terrestrial radio has been something which has been on the back burner in my life for decades now, and I cherish the ability to get back into that via this newsletter. So, today I am proud to release the first of what will be an ongoing series of twice-monthly (and I have to phrase it that way, because so many folks are confounded by the use of the word "bi-monthly") music-related shows curated and written by myself. To clarify: By "twice-monthly," I mean that these shows will appear in your inboxes approximately every two weeks.

End-of-the-week posts here at Wicked Messenger are usually reserved for thematic collections of things which grab me a certain way, and which I feel might happen to grab some of you as well. “Points To Ponder,” as it were. Today’s installment is a bit different, however.

Awhile back, I accepted a freelance assignment from the folks over at South Magazine, a glossy publication I have occasionally penned pieces for in the past. This particular assignment was to craft a feature article about an upcoming, two-day live music and cinema event taking place in Savannah on April 25 and 26. Part of the ongoing “Me, Myself & Us Concert Series” helmed by locally-based singing guitarist Thomas Claxton, the three-part event includes a live concert by the internationally acclaimed classic rock band known as the Immediate Family, a rare public screening of the recently released full-length documentary on the history of that band and its celebrated members, and a “masterclass” with some of those members where they will share first-person tales from their storied careers as some of the most in-demand studio and road musicians of all time in the genres of rock and roll, country, soul and pop.

The Immediate Family is made up of guitarist Danny “Kootch” Kortchmar, bassist Leland Sklar, guitarist Waddy Wachtel, drummer Russ Kunkel and guitarist Steve Postell. Collectively, they have helped create timeless hit songs as well as underappreciated gems for scores of A-List musical acts of the past half-century.

In preparation for writing that feature, I interviewed three of the band’s members, plus the director of the documentary, and the concert promoter. In varying degrees, I found each of those conversations to be fascinating, and was looking forward to including a good bit of all of them in that article. Unfortunately, in the end, the space I was allotted in that publication was limited to around 700 words ― barely enough to explain the totality of the event, introduce the participants and offer readers a few brief sentences on why they might want to consider attending one or more components of this somewhat elaborate installment of the concert series. When all was said and done, there simply was no room to include much of anything these folks had to say about their lives, their careers, their band, and the film which has now enshrined and contextualized their accomplishments for posterity.

So, if you’d like to get the basic facts on this noteworthy two-day event, by all means feel free to read that incredibly pithy piece here.

And, if you’re already intrigued enough to consider attending one or both nights of the shows, you can learn more and purchase tickets for the April 25 live concert here, and for the film screening and masterclass here.

But, if you want to delve deeper into the how, when and why of this group, the film, and the local impresario who’s responsible for taking the major financial risk to put on such an ambitious undertaking, I hope you’ll avail yourself of the following five interviews. It was a treat to speak with these folks, and I have only edited these transcripts lightly for clarity and grammar.

I should note that normally, these longer, more in-depth posts are for paid subscribers only. However, because I greatly respect and admire the particpants and the effort which has gone into this, and because I feel it’s important for as many people as possible to know about this in advance, I'm making this specific post available to the general public. Please feel free to share a link to this longform article with anyone you feel might appreciate it.

And please consider becoming either a free, or better yet, a paid subscriber! You'll get full access to everything I post (including tons of stuff the free members don't receive), and you will help me to pay my rent by doing something I love. Paid subscriptions are as little as $4.16 per month, which comes out to about 25 cents per article, podcast or radio show. A steal, I tell ya...

Oh, and by the way, if you make it all the way to my interview with documentarian Denny Tedesco, those who wish to purchase a deluxe, expanded Blu-ray copy of the new Immediate Family doc can learn how to get a special discount, just for Wicked Messenger readers!

Enjoy.

~ Jim

AN INTERVIEW WITH LELAND SKLAR

Instantly recognizable by his long, white beard and laid-back demeanor, Lee Sklar is considered one of the finest bass guitarists alive today. He’s recorded and/or toured with everyone from Phil Collins and Toto to James Taylor and Tracy Chapman. Lee is a baaddass, and a heck of a nice guy. He spoke with me by phone, from parts unknown.

Wicked Messenger: Thanks so much for making the time to speak with me.

Leland Sklar: Of course. My pleasure!

Are you looking forward to this two-day event?

It will be a lot of fun! I love playing with Thomas, and it seems like these events he's putting on are going great. It’s a good thing to be involved with.

How did you and Thomas first meet? I know he has been attending NAMM (a massive annual, California-based trade show organized by the National Association of Music Merchants) for years. Was it there?

We were first connected through Alan Friedman, who is our band’s accountant and business manager. He is also a musician, and so we did a gig with Alan, and Thomas was singing with Alan’s group. Alan is a great guy and very fun to be around, and so events like that make for a really nice combination of folks. So, Thomas and I became friends through that meeting. We may have met before at the NAMM show or someplace, but that show of Alan’s comes to mind. He and I hit it off immediately there and have been in touch since then. He’s come out to some of the things we’ve been doing, and he’s one of those guys where it seems like we’ve known each other for a long time, you know what I mean? It’s hard to pin down, because it feels so natural ― like we have always been there.

You started out very young as a classically trained pianist, and I can’t help but wonder what a pre-teen Leland Sklar would have thought of the notion that in the year 2024, he would be an internationally respected bassist who has toured far and wide around the globe and performed and recorded with untold numbers of the finest songwriters and musicians of not only his generation, but of subsequent generations as well.

Well, first off if somebody had said that I would still be alive in 2024, that would have been amazing. When you were a kid, that would have sounded like a thousand years in the future! It’s really quite shocking when you realize your whole life seems like it’s only been about 15 years long, but it has been so much more than that. I will be 77 in a month-and-a-half. It would be really hard to fathom, because even at that time, the mere idea of being in a band was unique – let alone having a career! Even when you were playing in clubs around Los Angeles, it was hard to imagine you could parlay that into anything even approaching a career.

I try to enjoy every day as best I can, and I still have the same amount of enjoyment and enthusiasm whenever the phone rings. Because it kind of gets into your DNA. I am on the road with Lyle Lovett right now and we have a couple more weeks of gigs before our tour ends in June. And let me tell you, even at my age now, I am out on the road, and I love it! (laughs) I am grateful that I took the route I did, as it has afforded me the opportunities to meet the musicians I have worked with over the years. I am still enthusiastic and excited about this lifestyle, and I don’t see an end in sight. As long as I am ambulatory and can still play well, I will only stop when they stop calling me and offering me jobs. I’m sure not gonna be the one to put an end to it!

The only time I have been lucky enough to see you play live was last March, when you played Savannah’s Johnny Mercer Theatre with Lyle Lovett’s Acoustic Group. Have you played here before? If so, what do you recall from your visits?

I think I have been there many times with different people. With James Taylor and many other artists. It’s one of the more beautiful cities in this country. I am excited I will get to come back and be there for a couple of days this time. When you are on the road, everything is compartmentalized. You’re traveling constantly. That’s the hard part. When you talk to folks back home, they assume it’s like you’re on vacation. They don’t realize, we’re at work! The day is all sound check and travels and all the things that come with that, so there is usually not a lot of time to enjoy all the cities you are passing through. I am hoping this time I will have the chance to get out and run around Savannah and see some of the things I have not seen before. Just take it all in.

It is frustrating at times because you find places that seem really interesting, and you try to give yourself a memo to get back there at some point. But generally, that doesn’t happen. When you are finally back home, you are tired and just want to enjoy being home. We’ll be in Savannah for a couple of days with Thomas’ event, but it seems like our schedules are filling up with different things which surround the performance ― like masterclasses and stuff which will consume more time. But that’s cool, too, as I love doing that stuff. I have gone to Berklee and taught masterclasses there and at a number of clinics around the country. When I do stuff like that, it’s not so much about showing them how you play. The people that show up for those kinds of things are usually decent players already. It’s more like a Q&A where I can share interesting experiences with people who are fresh at having a career in music. There are a lot of unique opportunities to share knowledge I’ve learned along the way, which is not the sort of thing you’ll find in a textbook. It will be interesting to see how this all plays out while we are there.

I’m assuming that you use the masterclasses to pass along practical wisdom from your decades in the trenches ― at both the lower levels and alongside superstars?

To me, that is really what we have to offer at this point. To sit there and show someone a mixolydian scale is bullshit. But for young people or those new to their instruments to be able to sit down with someone who has been doing it for 50 or 60 years is something else entirely.

I get guys who ask what it was like to make the Spectrum LP with Billy Cobham, and to be able to tell them what it was like to stay up for ten days to make an iconic album, rather than demonstrating technical stuff on my bass, that’s really special. I am not a technical player. I can do it, but that’s not what or how I think about it. These masterclasses tend to take on a life of their own. The Q&A sessions – all it takes is a couple of really good questions, and then it’s off and running. I have done Q&As in the past that they hoped would last for an hour, and we wound up talking for five hours, because it was fun for all involved. Plus, it will be fun to be with the band and play the show as well, So, for me, it’s really the best of everything the way this whole two-day event has been laid out.

And you’ll also be in attendance for the film screening, correct?

We’ll all be there for the film screening. I have been to tons of the screenings, and I love doing the Q&As after folks see the movie. That really gets things flowing, because they have just seen the movie and learned about a lot of different projects we have all been involved in over the years. So, that’s a great time for good questions.

I have a feeling many, or perhaps most of the folks who see this film will be quite unaware of ― and unprepared for ― the breadth of popular, recorded music and major concert tours that the members of the Immediate Family have played key roles in over the past several decades.

Oh yeah, you’re correct. You get the people where the first thing out of their mouths is, “You guys are the soundtrack of my life.” They were just never aware of it. They had no idea how this music was actually created and then delivered to them. They themselves were the end result of making the music, which is the audience! For the most part, the people at the screenings seem to be most curious as to what the whole scene was about. What it was like living in Laurel Canyon in the 1970s and everything that factored into the writing and performing and recording of this music. It’s really great to be able to expose the audience to the process that has been there, hiding in the background for their whole lives.

It’s like, watch a movie ― any movie — and try to imagine there’s absolutely no music in it whatsoever. If you suddenly saw a labored scene, it would feel so boring. But then you add a Jerry Goldsmith score behind it, and suddenly you have emotion and suspense. As viewers, the music comes with the territory. You’re looking at the screen visually, without really considering just how important the music is to the entire experience. And you know, the documentary is just a tiny little element of what we’ve done. The Blu-ray version of the film just came out, and it contains an additional three hours of interviews. Many with lots of people who didn’t wind up making it into the final cut of the film, just for time limitations. I don’t even really know all that’s on those discs, and I can’t wait to check it out.

What surprised you most about the documentary when you first saw it? Since there are many interviews in the film which were conducted one-on-one with individual musicians, did you wind up learning anything about your bandmates and friends that you had never known before ― simply from those private discussions?

Oh, absolutely! That was one of the things that was really revealing. I have known Russ Kunkle for 55 years now, and in the film, when he is talking about his brother setting him (as a child) on his lap to play some drums, and what he went through in school… Well, I had no idea! Our relationship was always about music. When Kootch or Waddy was talking about their history, as I watched the movie I was fascinated. It was all new information to me! That’s why I am especially curious to see the extra footage. The entire roundtable discussion we all had together which you see part of in the film ― that went on for quite awhile. I don’t remember everything we talked about, because we spent an entire day in the studio just talking to each other. To now be able to sit and watch it as an observer and not be in the middle of it will be a real experience for me.

You mention in the documentary that the mere fact that you and the rest of the Immediate Family were openly credited on some of those first few major L.A.-based albums you were involved in was responsible for your subsequent visibility and notoriety among professional musicians, and among folks like myself who grew up as inveterate readers of liner notes. When you first started earning a living in the music business, were you at that time already familiar with the concept of how the world of talented but essentially anonymous session musicians worked?

Well, first off, all of us in the group we really credit so much of what we have been able to do to Peter Asher. It was he who put our names on James Taylor’s albums. Before that, like, back in the ‘60s, maybe you would buy an album that the Wrecking Crew played on, and on the back there would be liner notes by maybe a music critic of the time, but those liner notes were all about the featured artist ― never about the backing musicians. So, I went from almost zero experience in the recording studio to being a first-call player in town. My experience up to that point was strictly playing in nightclubs. I had only done one session in the studio, and that was the band I was in! My own band, who went in for one day and cut some quick demos. Then, my phone started ringing and I was getting called for work!

How did you first learn of doing sessions as a possible career path, as opposed to being a person who is a member of a single band that’s focused on becoming successful based solely on their own shows and records?

A number of the early things that I was getting asked to play on were back when the Wrecking Crew guys were still regularly working. Hal Blaine, Larry Knechtel, those guys. I would stay quiet and learn from them on the job. It came together pretty quickly, because I had years and years of experience as a player. But I did not necessarily understand how records were made.

Since you did not already possess a working knowledge on how serious records were actually created, how did you achieve success in that field so quickly?

You just kept your ears open and your mouth shut! That was really a golden age for music recording. I was literally doing three different sessions a day, five or six days a week. I look back now and I played on 2,500 albums. In this day and age, it would be physically impossible to do that. But back then, if you were good enough, you could.

James Taylor became a benchmark for how to do it in the music business. The labels were signing singer-songwriters left and right. They would see our names on the James Taylor albums, and they would track us down, hoping we could do for them something similar to what we had done for James. Some of the artists we were hired to work with were incredible ― like Linda (Ronstadt) and Jackson (Browne), and some were not. But we were just trying to stay busy.

So, you were as enthralled, just as I was at a young age, with the beguiling mystery that surrounded the seemingly magical world of record-making.

Absolutely. I would sit there as a kid, looking at records, trying to take as much information as I could from the jacket. And as our time began to come in, that did not stop me reading and seeing certain names popping up here and there and noting relationships where certain combinations of people were teamed up. That’s how I came to understand the funk movement from the Bay Area, and David Hood and the Muscle Shoals guys and the James Jamersons and the Bob Babbits… You would start to notice and understand that there were regional units of players, which eventually came to be more inclusive.

When I met these guys later in life, it was like I knew them already. Because I had seen their names and heard them play for decades on vinyl. When I was first introduced to David Hood it was like we had known each other forever, even though we’d never met. The first time I met Phil Collins, I was playing on a Lee Ritenour album. But we knew each other’s discographies so well. That’s really unique to this community. That you knew people because of the totality of their body of work.

I understand that while Waddy Wachtel won’t be on hand for this Savannah date, the great Elliot Easton (from the Cars) is onboard in his stead.

The problem we had is that Waddy has been Stevie Nicks’ musical director since the Buckingham Nicks days. He’s never not been by her side. These shows we were going to do had been cleared by her people, but then he suddenly had to make up a bunch of Covid dates with her. Waddy has been going through a lot of angst over not being on hand for these shows. But Elliot being available and that allowing us to now be able to throw three or four Cars hits into a set is giving us more flexibility to do gigs even when Waddy can’t be there sometimes because of his prior commitments.

How did you all first wind up playing with Elliot?

I have worked with Elliot in the past. We are all friends. He is in the (Rock and Roll) Hall of Fame, was in a great group, and is a great guy. He had been coming to our gigs as an audience member, and so we asked him, and he was happy to do it. The audience is disappointed not to see Waddy, because he is a major presence, and he brings the ability for us to play the (Warren) Zevon stuff ― which he sings ― but it has not hurt our show. It has just refocused it a bit. I think the people will enjoy having the experience to see Elliot, as he is really special.

 Most people have no idea what a stunningly versatile musician and composer he is. I helped organize and played drums in a one-night-only Cars Tribute Band, and the sheer difficulty and tastefulness of Elliot’s parts that our own guitarist had to learn and emulate was fairly breathtaking. 

The way Elliot thinks is very orchestral, and that’s why his parts are so unique. Elliot is a great addition to our band, and we tell the audience he is the “Immediate Family Car.” (laughs)

Are you yourself a Cars fan?

The Cars were such an interesting group. I loved the fact that they were still one of the very best groups for videos. I felt bad because at one point Ric Ocasek had called me to work on a solo album with him, but then he died.

Tell me a bit about what folks can expect from this particular show. Will it all be material from the new Immediate Family album, or will you be performing your own versions of well-known and beloved songs drawn from a variety of the legendary and iconic albums you all have played on in one aggregation or another?

It’s a pretty eclectic show. We have stuff from our new album and the previous one. The joke is that we’re a cover band that does all originals ― because we were the ones who helped write them! (laughs) We’ll do “Dirty Laundry,” “All She Wants to Do is Dance,” “New York Minute,” three or four Cars tunes… Honestly, it just depends on the length of the set, but our shows cover the breadth of all our careers. For us, these gigs are all about having fun, and enjoying the opportunity to be with your brothers that you’ve played with for so long. The crowd is surprised to see all the different things that we’ve played on, and they usually wind up doing a lot of singing along. We just finished playing the Rock Legends Cruise, and so many people came up and said, “This is our favorite band, because this is our music.” It is actually very emotional for a lot of people, because these are often the songs that they heard at their marriages and which may have gotten through a divorce or other dark moments over the course of their lives, you know?

Is there anything in particular you’re looking forward to doing or seeing while you’re in Savannah?

Well, I am just hoping the catering will be really good! (laughs) I enjoy food, and when you’re on the road most of the year as we are, you wind up having to settle for whatever is on hand ― which can be disappointing. I feel like Savannah is known for good food, and I am hoping to get to try some of it.

AN INTERVIEW WITH STEVE POSTELL

Though he’s a bit younger than the rest of his bandmates, Steve’s lengthy CV speaks for itself. A singer, songwriter, guitarist, and producer, he’s been a member of country legends Pure Prairie League, toured as musical director for theatrical vocalist Lea Salonga (Tony Award-winner for Miss Saigon), composed scores for film, TV and off-Broadway productions, and written jingles for major commercial brands. He’s recorded and/or played with John Oates, Jennifer Warnes, Eric Andersen, Neil Young, Maroon 5, and many others.

Wicked Messenger: Will this be your first time performing in Savannah?

Steve Postell: Actually, Thomas brought me into the concert series in the “Grestch Room” [Editor’s Note: He’s referring to the District Live venue in the Plant Riverside complex, which is decorated with vintage Gretsch guitars.] We had a lot of fun. I was there with James Raymond, who is David Crosby’s son. He and I have played together for a long while, and we had a great time in Savannah.

Do you recall how you first came to be introduced to Thomas Claxton and his music?

We were asked by (famed microphone manufacturer) Telefunken to do a special benefit concert at their facility in Connecticut, which was put together by our business manager Alan Friedman. He has a band that performed the night before we did, and Thomas was singing in that band. That’s how we met. A few years ago, they put out an EP or a DVD of our part of that show called Live at the Telefunken Soundstage.

Here are three Immediate Family performances from the benefit concert which took place the night Claxton and they first met:

What did you think of the final results of the Immediate family documentary?

It was great. They did a fantastic job. As objectively as I can, I think Denny (Tedesco) did a great job of representing an era and a time that needed to be captured for posterity.

How often does the Immediate Family get to play live these days?

Covid obviously put things to a quick halt for a time, so we don’t play as much as we’d like. The only time we really stopped was for the first two years of the pandemic. But we play on and off all the time. We just came off a ten-show tour last week. Then we’ll play in Savannah, and then we’ll get together to play again in May. We’ll take a little break after that because some of us have other tours lined up in  the summer, and then we’ll all get back out there again.

It must be tricky to coordinate everyone’s schedules in a band of this sort.

We fit these Immediate Family shows in around all of our schedules. Waddy’s often out with Stevie, Lee and Russ are out with Lyle Lovett, and I am out with David Crosby’s old band, which still plays gigs. We look at all of our dates and find the openings when it all synchs up. That’s nothing new ―it’s always a juggling act when you’re dealing with touring musicians.

I was speaking with Lee Sklar earlier, and we talked about how quite unaware he was of the actual mechanics of record-making when he first started getting calls to play on fairly major sessions. He and I both devoured liner note details from an early age though, and that helped a bit. What was your introduction to session work like?

Like yourself, I knew who was engineer at what studios and who played on what songs from when I was quite young. Because if you really paid attention, that information was available. When you get into the room, however, sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t. My very first session was playing with a 30-piece orchestra. It was either for a commercial or a film ― I can’t recall which ― and there was a rhythm section as well. So, there was no kind of training to prepare one for that. You show up, here’s the music, and then you just gotta start and be on your game. You gotta do your thing.

So, how does one prepare for such a high-pressure situation, where everyone’s listening extremely carefully to every note you’re playing, and a lot of money is on the line for every minute spent in those rooms? What separates folks like the members of the Immediate Family from other folks who might technically be better at their given instruments than you guys, but yet could never do what you all do?

It's a complicated question. Some of it is temperament. I have talked about this with Leland. Some people play better when the recording light goes on, and some people freeze. That’s depending on your personality. I had also done a lot of recording of myself before I started doing sessions. My father gave me a 2-track recorder when I was a teen. So, I at least wasn’t panicked when they were recording. I think in terms of how to prepare, it’s never changed. You gotta practice so much that it becomes second nature. Back in the day, not so much anymore, there were some things that we had to be able to sight-read very well.

Being in New York and doing a lot of sessions in the ‘80s, it was really varied. I would do a Broadway show, a flamenco session, then a pop record, then an R&B thing, then a TV commercial. The only time I would ever recommend someone else is if it was a heavy jazz gig. Like a big band gig. That really wasn’t my forté. I would tell them, “I think you really want such-and-such for this gig.” Other than that, if I show up and it’s a bossanova, you do that. I had to be as well-versed as possible in a lot of different styles ― which is different than certain people who are really known for doing a certain thing and then get called to come and do that thing. That’s a different kind of player.

Can you speak a bit about the very obvious camaraderie which exists between the guys in this group?

Camaraderie is really what this band is all about. Because the musical thing is a given and takes care of itself. The four guys other than myself have known each other for 50 years. For me, it’s 20 years. The name of the band is not inaccurate. We see each other socially, and we check in with each other constantly. We celebrate our birthdays together. It’s a very unique thing. It feels like a really deep brotherhood, and because of that, it makes the whole experience of playing in the band together a very, very rich one. Musically, of course, it’s phenomenal to play with this bunch of people, but it’s much more than that.

Given that you are all well-known for supporting other, more famous artists, how exactly did the idea of this particular group of individuals forming their own band come to be?

It literally happened without any discussion. What happened was that Danny got offered a record deal from a Japanese label. They wanted an album of him playing the hits he had written for other people over the years. He and I had gone to Japan with a different group, and I think he solidified the deal then. Later, he was putting the pieces together to make that record, and we were doing pre-production in my studio. He called his favorite people, which were Waddy and Leland and Russ, and every one of them was able to make it down to Jackson Browne’s studio to actually cut the record. It was pretty clear instantly to everyone there that we were the right people. The Japanese label put together a tour, and we were off and running. After three days of recording at Jackson’s and a month of overdubs, Danny named us the Immediate Family, and it seemed inevitable and self-evident. Around that same time, I had a gig booked at a place in L.A. called Bogie’s, and I said to the guys, “Why don’t we make that an Immediate Family show?” It really happened just like that. We never had a meeting to decide if we wanted to be a band. We just were.

Waddy’s slot in the lineup will be filled in by Elliot Easton for this Savannah date. Did you and he already know each other before he was invited to become an adjunct member of the group?

I actually had a benefit that I was doing for an organization and the bill was myself, Jackson Browne, Kenny Loggins, Mike McDonald and Jeff Bridges. We wanted to do it acoustically because the staging involved a lot of moving parts. Elliot had sat in on a couple of songs and the light bulb just went on. I knew him, and I thought of him. But at the time, I did not realize that Elliot had played for awhile with the Creedence Clearwater guys [Editor’s Note: This was long after CCR’s rhythm section had struck out on their own without the group’s frontman and lead guitarist, John Fogerty, who refused to play his earlier songs in public.]. I was really impressed with his playing on that, and saw that he could play something very different from what he was known for in the Cars. We had a number of possible people that could do the gigs, and he was the logical choice, because he was free.

 Back in the early 1980s, when the Cars were first coming to prominence, I always thought it was intriguing that if one were to isolate Elliot’s lead guitar fills and solos on those albums, his contributions actually sounded much more like traditional country and western or rockabilly licks than alternative rock music. The synthesizers and the drum sounds on those records are squarely new-wave, but he’s often playing Chet Atkins-style leads over a lot of those songs ― which always seemed to be lost on most listeners. Would you agree?

Elliot told me himself that was something of a point of contention between he and Ric (Ocasek, bandleader). Apparently, Ric wanted him to tone down the country influence in his playing. Ric also didn’t want anyone in the band to be singled out. You know, like some bands have their Keith Richards or their Joe Perry? The “guitar hero thing.” So, they underplayed Elliot on purpose. But they never would have sounded like they did without him.

What can attendees of this show expect from the Savannah show’s setlist?

It’s a combination of hit songs we have each been a big part of, plus our own original material that we have written together. I don’t want to give all the songs away, because part of the fun is having the audience be surprised. But maybe 60 percent of the show is stuff folks will instantly recognize, and 40 percent is our own, newer material. We keep the storytelling or anecdotes to a minimum, but sometimes ― as we are doing in Savannah ― we also get to do a Q&A, and let people ask about what they want to know.

 How would you sum up the current state of the Immediate Family?

We have a new record out that we’re proud of, and this movie is something that will last forever. We are all really thrilled that it came out as well as it did. We are so happy to be coming down to play, because I think this kind of music has its place. You can’t see it performed live every day anymore and I am proud of being a part of something where we get to share this genre of music. Whatever you want to call it ― great rock and roll? I love sharing that with people. Our audiences seem to have a real appetite for it. And it’s a very communal experience. The people in our crowds who grew up on this music really miss it, and now they get to come hear it the way it was always supposed to be played.

AN INTERVIEW WITH RUSS KUNKEL

Russell Kunkel is a bona fide legendary drummer and percussionist. A self-taught master of his instruments whose work can be heard on records by B.B. King, Joni Mitchell, Crosby, Stills & Nash, Reba McEntire, Bob Seger & The Silver Bullet Band, Harry Chapin, J.J. Cale, Jimmy Buffet, and Bette Midler, among others. That’s him on Jackson Browne’s smash hit live LP Running on Empty. He also appears in the 1984 cult classic film This Is Spinal Tap as the late, great drummer Eric "Stumpy Joe" Childs. He and Leland often play together as a rhythm section.

Wicked Messenger: Thanks for speaking with me, Russ. I am a big fan of your work over the years, and I appreciate the opportunity. Will this be your first time in Savannah?

Russ Kunkel: I do think I played there with Lyle Lovett’s Large Band at some point. I haven’t spent much time in Savannah and am looking forward to that. It appears that it might be a sophisticated southern town that is not in a hurry. Which I can totally relate to!

Well, it’s certainly a haven for drunkards and layabouts!

I LOVE THAT.

You have worked in the music industry for so long, and been a devoted fan since well before you became an in-demand session drummer. For you, have the technological advances in the fields of recording and music distribution removed a lot of the beguiling and mysterious nature of the business ― not only for the players, but for the listeners as well?

When we look backwards, it is amazing to note that when we had far less ability to have instantaneous responses at our fingertips, we were an unbelievably resourceful society. When we just had email, or you had to actually find your way to an address by the use of a map… Maps are wonderful things! I have just begun to start collecting them, and having an actual map that you can pick up and just look at is a marvelous sight to behold. Now, folks just ask Siri where to go. But we are extremely resilient and resourceful, and that is how we adapt, as a species.

The music business in the 1970s was the same way. We used the tools we had available to us. I remember the first “brick” mobile phone. It looked like a walkie talkie! Before that, if you needed to speak to someone and they were not at home or at a business that had a land line, you simply had to wait until the next time you saw them in person if you wanted to tell them something. And somehow, it all worked just fine. Robert Oppenheimer was able to create the bomb without the use of the internet. After watching that movie, I decided to get into quantum mechanics, and I went and got a couple of books and dived into it.

As young ones, we were new to the waters of the music business, and we were just happy to be in the moment. In the case of myself and Leland and Danny and Waddy, we were in the right place at the right time. It is that simple. We converged in Southern California at the same time, and we were given the gift of being able to play music with some of the most iconic singer-songwriters of the time. The list goes on and on forever. We were just plopped down together into a mecca of magnificent music and forced to rise to the occasion.

It was not by happenstance that all of us got to be in Southern California at the same time. We got there because we were good. Somehow our talents were viewed by influential people, and we got noticed. I played in a band at the Whiskey A-Go-Go and was seen by David Crosby. My ability to play and be noticed by people got me to where I was, and the same goes for Waddy, etc… So, we got there because we were good, but we also won the lottery. We were working with the Leonardo DaVincis and Cezannes of our time, when other musicians ― who were just as good as us ― were not. So, there was a bit of serendipity.

Did any of you all realize that at the time, or were you so busy going from gig to gig that is it only in hindsight you can see that you were some of the folks on the tip of that particular spear?

Listen, in hindsight, to answer your question: We pinched ourselves all the time and laughed about it. About how lucky we were. We pulled the handle on the one-armed bandit, and we didn’t squander it. To be in the room with Carole King and James Taylor ― it’s serious. Because they’re serious! The music they were putting out then was palpable. You could feel it. It filled the room. It propelled you to perform in a linear way, as opposed to a logical way. And we came up with the stuff that we did because were in that environment and we were being diligent about following the path they were laying down. It cannot be stressed enough how important their influence on us was. And it was like a circle. One would feed the other. Us being inspired by a James Taylor lyric inspired us to play a certain way, and that in turn inspired the same thing with Carole King or Linda Ronstadt or Jackson Browne.

Leland said that one of the most interesting things for him about the film was that he learned things about his friends and bandmembers that had simply never come up in all your decades of friendship – was it illuminating for you to hear your other bandmates talk about themselves or their own viewpoints on things which had never occurred to you before?

Well, I definitely experienced some of the same feelings Leland referred to, in terms of learning things about my bandmates that I didn’t necessarily know. There’s a beautiful and touching moment in the film when Waddy speaks of losing his mom early on in his life. Now, Waddy can have a rough exterior, but in that moment, you can see his heart. It was just exposed. I didn’t know anything about that. When I first saw the cut they allowed us to watch, I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but it affected me physically. You know, if someone decides that telling a story about you and your friends is important, sometimes that’s hard to swallow. Because we are all just walking around looking through our own eyes and not feeling that we’ve done something especially important. Now that I’ve seen (the documentary) a few times, and that particular feeling has waned a good bit, I can glimpse and understand more about what I am watching.

The other profound feeling I got, and I don’t mean for this to sound morose, was that it reminded me of my own mortality. To see that there is a lot less time left on the clock than there was before. So, it’s not just my own mortality, but it’s everyone else’s, too. It’s not just joyous. I mean, at this point on my personal timeline… I mean, if I took a tape measure and ran it out to 90, I am a lot closer to 90 than I am to zero. It was a physical experience, seeing the film that first time. My wife was with me, and my hands started to sweat a little bit. And she asked if I was okay, and I said, “I think so.” But I was really emotionally moved by this film.

What moved you the most?

Well, it opens with James Taylor saying that our input cannot be overstated, and he said it three times. And for Don Henley… So, Don is a dear friend of mine. And he really is that person, you know? And it meant so much to me to see him be so candid. It’s a true testament to his caring about all of us. That these people would take the time to bare their hearts as to what they truly feel about us.

Coming back to Denny (Tedesco), he was able to make the segue between the Wrecking Crew and this band. But he didn’t know what the full story was until he started shooting. And the story was that everybody involved had their own individual story, and came from different places. The music that we started to play together has come to be called the music of a generation because of the thread which tied all the pearls together.

You mentioned Don Henley, and I was surprised to see him in the film, because he does not seem like a guy who is known for being the most effusive or complimentary guy.

I have to say this about Don: he doesn’t chit-chat. He only says something when it’s fucking important. When it’s saving Walden Pond, he’ll put his money and his mouth on that. Or when it’s going up in front of congress to fight for our ability as musicians and songwriters to continue to be paid fairly for our work. That’s when you’ll see and hear him speak. So, for him to make a point to talk about us and our creative contributions over the years says an awful lot to me.

At Immediate Family shows, when you play some of the older songs you guys had a hand in creating, does the band try to play the older material extremely closely to the fabled studio cuts, or do you drastically rearrange them or lean into improvisation to keep the material fresh?

We just rock ‘em up a bit. An example would be some of Danny’s songs that he wrote with Don, like “All She Wants to Do is Dance” or “Dirty Laundry.” Those songs are pretty keyboard heavy. But we don’t have a keyboard player. So we just make ‘em more rock. You recognize the same lyrics and melody, but we’re playing them our own way. In fact, we have recorded our own versions of all these songs that people know, and an album of those will be released in the near future. It’s being mixed right now. We make the tunes our own.

Are you as excited as the other members I have spoken with about welcoming Elliot Easton into the fold as an occasional fill-in for Waddy Wachtel?

So, Waddy is Stevie’s musical director and she has been touring like crazy. We have been forced to do some shows without him, which is not optimal. But we have found a wonderful new friend in Elliot. And, in the spirit of the Immediate Family, we’ve added three or four songs by the Cars. We play them our way as well, and the audience loves them.

Was there ever any notion of finding a dedicated male or female vocalist for the group, or did it always make sense for you all to handle that in-house, so to speak?

It was talked about, and the decision was made to keep the band the way that it was, and just do the best we can with what we have. Waddy has always wanted to sing more, Steve is a very competent singer, and Danny sings his own songs well, so we figured we had three vocalists already. And once we worked out the harmonies well, we honestly felt we did not need an additional, dedicated singer.

Is there anything you’d like to add that you feel is important for folks to know about the band, or this particular two-day event?

I would just like to say to the people of Savannah that supporting live music is paramount, as that’s how musicians make money these days. Not a lot, but at least dollars change hands ― which isn’t always the case anymore. At every turn of the path, the fast-moving pace of progress is trying to cut down more and more the amount of money we make from intellectual property, whether it’s being streamed, sold or bought, bought. And the live performance aspect of being a musician is the only thing that hasn’t changed. In fact, it’s growing a little bit. The two things that are growing have always been there: the buying of LPs and the performances. And that lets me know there’s still a chance for musicians. I just appreciate the people who come out to see live music and I hope the people in Savannah not only come out to the concert, but also come see the documentary. Plus, we may not always be playing with Elliot Easton. These are special shows, and you can tell your grandchildren about them, as they say. (laughs)

When you talk about the fact that the only way musicians can possibly make anything approaching a livable wage anymore is through live performance, I think there are still some people who don’t truly understand just how completely and utterly devasting the current distribution and sales model for recorded music has become in the internet age. And, how the global trend toward prioritizing convenience over cost has essentially bankrupted untold numbers of creative songwriters, vocalists and instrumentalists. For those folks who may read this interview, can you elaborate a bit on what you meant by that statement?

When the concept of an information database being available to anyone with a device for nothing or next to nothing ― when the goalpost got moved to there ― somehow music got lumped into that as well. Everyone got used to being able to look up a question on Wikipedia and getting back an instantaneous answer, and now they feel they should be able to type in the name of a song, any song, and get that for free as well. But it isn’t the same thing at all.

One is composed of the blood, sweat, and tears of real people. They are two totally different situations. Here’s another way of viewing this: if I want to buy an audiobook on the life and times of Abraham Lincoln, I might have to pay $30 for it. Audiobooks are expensive. Why are LPs so much cheaper? Why aren’t they the same? The songs are worth less? It’s really out of balance, and I don’t know if it’s ever going to be corrected. Once the cat’s out of the bag and people are used to getting something for free, you’re likely never going to be able to convince them to pay for it.

You’re 75 now. Do you have any plans to retire from making music, or do you plan on going till the wheels fall off?

I’m gonna play music until I can’t anymore. You can make it a grind or you can choose to make it as a blessing. I’m playing with some of the very best musicians in the world! Why wouldn’t I want to do that?

AN INTERVIEW WITH DENNY TEDESCO

Denny’s father Tommy Tedesco was a member of the fabled Wrecking Crew, the cream of the crop of Los Angeles-based studio musicians, whose nonstop work-for-hire sessions in the 1960s and 1970s led to various aggregations of that close-knit group of versatile players appearing on several hundred Top 40 hits by an incredibly wide range of musical artists. He is considered the most-recorded guitarist in history. In 2008, Denny completed work on a feature documentary revealing the hidden history of that mostly anonymous group of musicians, which won numerous awards at a number of influential film festivals. However, the high cost of obtaining the legal licenses required to include snippets of the Wrecking Crew’s musical performances in his film, delayed its official release by almost a decade. His latest film examines the Immediate Family, whose members’ own careers posit them as the true successors to the Wrecking Crew’s mantle.

Wicked Messenger: I was lucky enough to attend what I believe was one of the first several festival screenings of The Wrecking Crew, long before it was finally able to raise the funds for music clearances and see a full-fledged commercial release. This was at the Savannah Film Fest in probably 2008, and you were on hand to discuss the film afterwards. I was and remain a huge fan and proponent of the film, and was happy to see you tackle the Immediate Family band in the same manner. Congratulations on an engrossing and very well put-together documentary! Can you speak a bit about what you view as the key similarities and the key differences between those two unique groups of versatile and gifted session musicians?

Denny Tedesco: First of all, I remember that trip really well. It was my first time in Savannah, and I was blown away by the city.  I’m looking forward to coming back. The two generations are similar in what amazing and versatile musicians they all are, and how grateful they are to be able to make a living as musicians. My father, Tommy Tedesco, went to work for three-hour blocks of time. He and his peers were allowed to record up to three or four songs in that period. So, if they went to between three or four sessions a day, they would be bouncing around different studios with different artists. When the singer-songwriter era comes in, they started taking their time in the studios. Instead of record dates, they became recording projects. They could work on an album for a few weeks, whereas in the ‘60s that would have been a couple of days. So, the session guys in the ‘70s were able to make much greater contributions to the music, simply because of spending more time together with the artists. 

If you were part of the Wrecking Crew, you were so busy that you would never take a road gig. Road gigs in those days were not well paid and were also quite hard. If you left town, someone could easily fill your seat and then you might be out of work (for good) with that producer. So, you only left town if it paid a lot of money or if you really needed the gig. The guys in the Immediate Family started in the early ‘70s.  These guys were at their early parts of their careers. So, when Peter Asher asked them to take the band on the road after they recorded the album, it made total sense. The other thing that happened is that LPs started listing credits (for the players and the production staff) which allowed not just the public but other artists to start noticing the same names popping up over and over again. The Wrecking Crew didn’t often (publicly) receive credit by name.

Was it difficult to convince the musicians who make up the Immediate Family to participate in such a look back at their lives and careers? What sort of initial response did you receive from the more visible performers/frontpeople who appear in the film as well, such as James Taylor, Don Henley, Stevie Nicks, Jackson Browne, Linda Ronstadt, etc…? Were they generally eager to speak about their relationships with the musicians who played such an integral role in the creation of some of their best-known works, or did it require some cajoling in order to get such a wide variety of those folks on board? 

The guys were really cool about it. I have the luxury of being the son of a very well-respected studio guitar player and the Wrecking Crew documentary was a great success among the music community. So, I had that going for me. When it came to the artists, I never had it so easy. Whenever someone reached out, it was merely to ask, “When and where?” The artists grew up with these guys and collectively, they spent years in the studios or on the road with them. They loved sharing those stories.

I am told by Leland that there are over three hours’ worth of bonus materials on the physical release of the film, and he says he can’t wait to see all that stuff because he wound up learning a lot about his dear friends from watching your film that he had never come to understand about them after (in some cases) 50 years of working and socializing together closely. What was the most surprising thing which you yourself as a director and researcher learned or came to better understand over the course of making this movie?

I had to buy all the LPs for their cover artwork, and to research for the film. Even though this was my era, I was still blown away by learning about all the various albums that I didn’t know they’d played on. What we forget is the other songs on albums that we simply don’t hear anymore. We just hear the hits on Spotify or radio stations. So, I started to play these albums (all the way through) and was blown away by the additional songs ― which were amazing, but which didn’t make it commercially.

Have you been attending a lot of screenings of the film, and discussing it with audience members afterwards? If so, how often has this been occurring, and is there any sort of common denominator which you have noticed running through these screenings, as far as what seems to pique audiences’ curiosities ― or tug at their heartstrings ― the most? 

This music is always the bookmark in so many people’s lives.  But they’re also moved by the personal stories of each of these guys. It’s a music doc, but I feel it's more than that. It’s about family and friendships.

How did this particular Savannah screening come about? It’s interesting to me that it's being held in conjunction with both a live show by the band at a different venue, as well as a private “masterclass” from some of the musicians. Is this an unusual booking for the film, or have you done shows like this in the past which were held in tandem with a live appearance by the group? 

Nothing is better than seeing these guys perform live and then watching the movie. There is a whole different appreciation of the guys when you see them play. They don’t hold back. And you don’t have to be a musician for the masterclass. I’m not a musician! But I appreciate what they are saying and giving to the audience. I love the Q&As with the guys.

What would you say to anyone who’s reading this piece in advance of the event to best posit to them why they might really appreciate attending and seeing this film -- even if the main participants in the documentary hold no immediate name recognition for them? 

They might not know their names, but I promise you have heard their music for the last 50 years ― and even today, you still hear them on the radio. Not only did they record, produce, and write some of the hits, they were huge influences on the music that followed them. 

Where would you prefer people procure a copy of this film for themselves (meaning which outlet or avenue will garner you and the other backers of the film the biggest cut of the sales price), so I can direct readers that way? 

If they were to buy a DVD or Blu-ray, I’d really appreciate it if they visited our website at www.ImmediateFamilyFilm.com. If they use the code word “Savannah” they’ll get a discount. The DVD includes an hour-long roundtable discussion with the guys from the film. The Blu-ray contains that as well, plus two additional hours of other outtakes from all sorts of artists and the guys themselves. I was only allowed three hours and had much more than that to share. So, over time, I’ll be adding those extra clips to the website.

Is there anything else you’d like to add?

Yes! Please follow us on our Facebook page and on Instagram @immediatefamilyfilm. And, if you haven’t seen The Wrecking Crew, you can find that on Hulu and various other platforms.

 AN INTERVIEW WITH THOMAS CLAXTON

 Thomas Claxton devoted himself to a full-time career as a performing musician and made a name for himself in the Greater Savannah area as a gifted interpreter of classic rock, hard rock, pop and soul songs. His calling card is a powerful, expressive voice with a theatrical flair. Eventually he began recording and releasing independent albums of his own original material, and traveling up and down the East Coast and out to California, supporting himself by playing a mixture of covers and originals everywhere from small bars and restaurants to Hard Rock Cafés. Before long his diligence paid off and he began receiving endorsements from musical gear companies and invitations to sing and play at industry functions. He now divides his time between playing gigs (either solo or with two different backing bands) and promoting special concert events in and around his hometown.

Wicked Messenger: You have spent many years making a name for yourself in this area as a singing guitarist who’s known as a reliable and noteworthy interpreter of other songwriters’ material, as well as of your own original compositions. However, over the past couple of years, rather than simply playing standard-issue gigs at bars, restaurants or venues in this area, you have dedicated yourself to ― at least in the greater Savannah market – putting a significant amount of time, energy and money into creating and putting on high-profile, ticketed, live concert events in the Greater Savannah area. Most, but not all of which, feature or at least include you as an onstage performer. Can you speak a little bit about when and why you made that shift in your career plan, as well as what sort of risks you have incurred in doing so, and what sort of benefits you have seen from that new approach?

Thomas Claxton: Savannah, while an extremely important one, was one of a handful of parts to my overall career, especially in recent years. Much of my career reaches far outside of the hometown scene. Starting in 2008, I embraced a traveling schedule that included networking with industry leaders and prominent artists, and that has gradually built to where it’s taken me to date. A few years ago, when I came up with the idea of the “Me, Myself, & Us” concert series, there were several reasons. I wanted something fresh and different in my hometown career. I wanted to share a part of what I do outside of Savannah with my hometown crowd. And, I wanted to direct my own path, and not be reliant on whether or not someone else booked me. I’ve never had issues getting standard gigs (which I’m beyond grateful for), but I also know when I need change in my life. The concert series began as a way to do local, ticketed shows based on my original music and rarely-played covers, which was a complete 180-degree turn from the non-ticketed, cover-based gigs that local listeners knew me for. Every so often at those ticketed shows, I would bring in a special guest performer from other areas that local music fans might not normally have the chance to see in an intimate setting.

I’ve always had a deep appreciation for “behind-the-scenes” tales of the music industry, because so much of what goes on which ultimately leads to what hits the consumer’s ears, the public is unaware of. There are countless, fascinating stories of that sort that deserve sharing with as many music fans as possible, and I’ve personally found that nothing beats the stories told by the session and stage musicians that often co-wrote the songs or toured with the famous artists. In most cases, these underappreciated performers are just as responsible for the music as the celebrities whose names we all know. Many of my special guests are artists that I’ve either performed or recorded with myself, so in many cases, it’s been as easy as calling a friend to come to our Coastal Empire and be a part of this series.

As far as the risks go, I’d say any time you step out of a comfort zone, there’s a level of risk involved. In this particular situation, it’s always a risk to put it all on the line. Especially financially. But there’s a degree of excitement in not knowing how something will go, while still having faith and trusting the process, the path and those who believe in you.

Could a situation fail? Absolutely. But it can also succeed, and I’ve always enjoyed a challenge. I didn’t get where I am because I always “won.” Failures happen, but everything I’ve failed at taught me lessons and prepared me for this. I’m sure I’ll stumble and fall again and may not like it. But I’ll appreciate it when I do.

I know you were already on friendly terms with a few of the people involved in the Immediate Family band. How did the idea come about to bring that group of iconic, legendary rock, pop, blues, soul, jazz and folk players to Savannah for a special live show?

I met the Immediate Family in November of 2021 at a special event in Hartford, Connecticut promoted and produced by my great friend (and CPA), Alan Friedman. Alan is one of those amazing human beings that brings nothing but positive energy to every part of your life that he’s involved in. I was well aware of who the members of the band were. Hell, a few of these guys were the world-renowned session band known as “The Section,” which were literally the architects of some of the most legendary songs ever written. Alan brought me in to perform for his band during that weekend event, and when I met some of the Immediate Family members, they were absolutely amazing to me ― very kind and complimentary following the set from the band I performed with.

I remember sitting there before the show chatting with legendary drummer, Bernard “Pretty” Purdie, and then here comes Leland Sklar. Mind blown. Leland and I kept in touch. Same with my friend Steve Postell, who was a special guest of the series back in December of 2023. The sincerity of these guys, as well as Russ Kunkel and Danny Kortchmar, and knowing the music they were involved in collectively, is humbling. I’m grateful and privileged to be able to host these guys and can’t wait for them to experience Savannah. It’s also equally exciting to welcome Elliot Easton, founding member and guitarist of the Cars on this night as he joins the band for their set!

Speak a bit about why you wanted to pair this live show with a screening of the recent documentary made about the band members’ legacies, and how you came to include the film’s director as a special guest at that screening.

I’m all about giving people a unique experience. Many concerts, after you suffer the ridiculous online ticket fees, are rather simple from a consumer’s point of view: You pay. You attend. They perform. They leave. You leave. Not to say they aren’t enjoyable; I’ve had a blast at many of those. But at my concert series events, I want to give the audience the opportunity to be in a closer setting with these performers. I host Q&A sessions from the stage and truly aim to mix education with entertainment. I want people to leave these shows feeling like they learned something about this music that they may not have realized prior to attending. And who would know better than the ones who often co-wrote the songs?

As far as the Immediate Family goes, these particular guys have been so impactful in the history of modern music, that their stories warranted an actual documentary! The film’s director, Denny Tedesco, was already well-known. His previous documentary on the famous session band “The Wrecking Crew,” was beyond well-received, and I want people to watch this one and experience what I did when I attended a 2022 screening of it in New York City. I also wanted Denny to be a part of this event, because besides the stars of the film themselves, no one could tell this story better. Their management put Denny and I in touch and the deal was done. I feel like I’ve known him forever and it’s a true honor for him to be on hand.

What sort of role will you be playing in the various aspects of this two-day, three-event engagement?

I’m the producer and promoter of the series. Since performing is always my passion, I’m usually a performer at the shows as well, in some manner. For the April 25 and 26 events, I’ll be taking on the backstage insanity that is a well-produced show and screening, as well as opening the Thursday night concert with an acoustic set of my own songs, plus a few interpretations of some classics for good measure.

What would you say to someone who is a fan of pop, rock, soul and folk music from the 1970s onward, yet who does not recognize the names of any of the musicians involved in this group? Why should they be interested in attending this show?

There aren’t enough words to describe the importance of these artists. When it comes to the records (they played key roles in creating), I would argue they form the musical timelines of many of our lives. No matter what age you are, if you’ve ever driven down the highway and sang along to the songs of James Taylor, Jackson Browne, Phil Collins, Carole King, Linda Ronstadt, Bob Dylan, and too many more to list here, then you’ve enjoyed the genius of this band. As Billy Bob Thorton stresses in the documentary: In the ‘70s, it was rare to pick up an album and not see these guys’ names in the liner notes. If you want to experience a piece of musical history, then come and enjoy this band.

How would you describe the benefits to serious or aspiring musicians, singers, songwriters or recording engineers and producers, of the Masterclass that these musicians will be taking part in?

I can’t stress enough to aspiring performers how important it is to never stop learning. And who better to learn from than these guys? When it comes to hearing their stories, their advice, the ways they approach their instruments, and what led to all of this, these musicians are literally the “Jedi” of their craft. The masterclass following the documentary screening will feature: Leland Sklar on bass, Russ Kunkel on drums, and Steve Postell on guitar. I’ve never learned more than when performers who have already navigated certain paths, took the time to share with me what they themselves had learned along their journeys ― especially these guys!

Explain a bit about how and why the Gretsch family (famed for owning and running the highly-respected drum and guitar-making company which bears their family’s name) is involved in your various concert productions. What do you get out of that involvement, and what do they?

The “Me, Myself, & Us Concert Series” is partnered with the Gretsch School of Music at the Armstrong Campus of Georgia Southern University. When I first spoke with Mr. and Mrs. Fred and Dinah Gretsch concerning their involvement in the series, I was excited right out of the gate. Mrs. Dinah expressed the potential she saw in my series and wanted to help bring more eyes to it and to also have its special guests speak to the students at the University while they’re visiting our beautiful city to perform. My guest artists go to the campus and treat the students to an insiders’ perspective on the music industry. It’s truly a unique experience for the students. I can confidently say that nothing like it was offered when I was still in school.

I’ve always been passionate about music education as I feel it’s the perfect outlet for society’s youth. Music is a language that everyone seems to understand. When I was coming up, I was blessed to have an amazing teacher (Dr. Lauren Ringwall), but the school system itself didn’t put a lot into music education, and I was even discouraged by some for wanting to pursue it as a full-time career. I was always looking for some sort of way to make a difference in that, but could not do so until now. The path that Mr. and Mrs. Gretsch are selflessly forging to help these students navigate this business is inspiring and I’m honored to be a part of it. Through my series and beyond, I plan to contribute in any way possible. It’s wonderful to be a part of their vision and to promote music education and to impact the lives of our future. I’m beyond grateful and honored to have their trust and confidence.

Is there anything else you’d like to add?

I just want to sincerely thank everyone who has supported my vision for this series, and I hope everyone can enjoy it for the unique experience that it truly is. For those who have attended past shows, I can’t thank you enough. For those yet to, I look forward to the opportunity to see you at a future event. Thank you to the local businesses and the ones outside of our area who have supported this in multiple ways. The best is yet to come, I can promise you that.

Back in February of 2022, the most recent incarnation of iconic country-rock hitmakers the Eagles kicked off their “Hotel California Tour” at Savannah’s then brand-new, 9,500-seat Enmarket Arena. For that and each of the 21 shows which followed, the band performed their landmark 1976 LP of the same name in its entirety, from start to finish, followed by a second set of their greatest hits.

The Enmarket Arena concert was completely sold out in advance ― as in addition to being the opening night of the tour, it also served as the first official event held at the (barely) completed multi-use venue. An understandably important and highly anticipated night for classic rock fans in this region, there was an obvious social component to the proceedings as well. A wide range of movers and shakers from all strata in the Greater Savannah area turned out in droves to both see and be seen, all while listening to extremely tastefully played, completely food safe pop songs, replete with absurdly precise vocal harmonies. That’s the Eagles’ trademark: their beautiful, at times complex, “quasi-country” vocal harmonies.

Sure, the various singing musicians who have filled the ranks of that Southern California group since its inception in 1971 have uniformly been excellent at their craft(s), and frontman Don Henley remains a creative, above-average drummer with a knack for open, minimalist, danceable grooves. However, when most folks think about the aspects of the group that make them truly unique, their minds probably go to the Eagles’ stellar harmony vocals. Entire tutorials have been written on how to attempt to achieve the beautiful combinations of sung notes which render the group’s studio recordings and live performances instantly recognizable.

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For the past few weeks, I have been up in Baltimore on family matters. As a result, my social media feed and online searches have lately been packed with notices and pitches related to my current environment. That’s how I came across an ad for an upcoming live gig by none other than famed jazz composer, pianist, and bandleader Bob James.

He’s playing on April 16 at Rams Head On Stage, a beautiful and storied 500-seat showcase venue in Annapolis, Md., about an hour’s drive from my brother’s funky row house in Baltimore’s historic Waverly neighborhood. It’s a sweet place for an artist of James’ stature to perform ― especially at this stage of their career. The club is small enough to feel like an intimate affair to the audience, but still large enough to boast a top-notch stage and professional sound and lighting gear. Plus, it holds just enough patrons to offer the chance at a significant box office haul to a cat of his pedigree.

In all candor, I was a bit surprised to see that James was still touring, as his first paying gig was at the age of eight (seriously), and he’s 84 now. I suppose, however, that should not be surprising, as the complete and utter decimation of the entire business model of the recorded music industry has resulted in a dreadful situation for players of his age. Artists who might have wished to have retired long ago from the rigors of the road cannot do so, lest they almost immediately lapse into financial insolvency.

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When the topic of famous, respected film schools is mentioned, which come to mind first?

For many, it may be the University of Southern California, where the likes of Darryl Zanuck and Irving Thalberg taught, and successful filmmakers such as George Lucas, John Singleton, Robert Zemeckis, and Ryan Coogler studied. For others, it may be NYU, which proudly claims Spike Lee, Charlie Kaufman, Woody Allen, Vince Gilligan, and Alec Baldwin among their alumni. The American Film Institute is where revered, iconoclastic directors like David Lynch, Terrence Malick, Ari Aster and Darren Aronofsky learned their craft. Then, there’s always UCLA’s film department, which boasts Alexander Payne, Gore Verbinski, Rob Reiner and celluloid provocateur Larry Clark in its list of graduates.

However, there’s another less formal but highly influential institution of higher learning which looms large over the cinematic developments of the past 70 years. I’m speaking of the "Roger Corman School of Film" — an immersive but unofficial vocational trade school that despite its lack of a physical campus, faculty list or even a class schedule, proved essential in the evolution of American filmmaking from the 1950s through the present day.

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It’s often been said by rock scribes that Moe Tucker was “the heart” of the Velvet Underground, and I won’t disagree with that assessment. 

As one-fourth of a mercurial, chaotic, trail-blazing quartet that essentially invented the concept of anarchic noise-pop, that diminutive, no-nonsense, devoutly Catholic punch card operator kept it between the ditches. True, the fact that she avoided recreational drugs like the plague, other than the occasional bottle of Budweiser or Pabst Blue Ribbon, helped her avoid the drastic mood shifts that contributed to that iconic group’s volatile history. Notwithstanding her unexpectedly antagonistic and regressive political viewpoints over the last 15 years, which left many of her more progressively minded admirers scratching their heads or wringing their hands, she dignified herself since that band’s early ‘70s dissolution as something of its only constant. Amidst all the acrimony that came along with their messy breakup, Moe emerged as the quiet, low-profile peacemaker who remained on good terms with all her former bandmates. And, perhaps surprisingly, the one member whose post-VU music often hewed closest to that band’s trademark sound.

It cannot be ignored that Tucker was the drummer of the band. Her innovative style of playing is remembered for its precise, unwavering meter and tempo. Despite occasional bursts of tribal percussion which openly displayed affection for the work of her hero, the Nigerian drumming icon Babatunde Olatunji, Moe’s trademark contribution to the VU was serving as the calm in the midst of the raging guitar and keyboard storm whipped up by Lou Reed, John Cale, Sterling Morrison, and, later, Doug Yule.

It's a cliché, but this human metronome with the unique ability to express profound emotion through stark and rigid minimalism was not just the heart of that band, she was its heartbeat.

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In one way or another, I’ve been involved in the “music biz” since I don’t know — 1984? It began in my high school years when I served as a lyricist and lead vocalist for a Hüsker Dü-ish cowpunk band, organized the occasional all-ages charity benefit concert, and worked “off-the-books” at a 100,000-watt Classic Rock format FM radio station one town over from mine. Later, I did the same at a way smaller, but way cooler, rock station a ten-minute walk from my house, where I got paid in tons of promo LPs by bands that were far too weird for those square, smalltown East Tennessee outlets’ playlists, but which were, as Steven Toast might say, “right up my rue.”

When I relocated to the odd, sleepy swamp of coastal Georgia in 1986 to study video production at the little-known and then quite small Savannah College of Art and Design, the die was cast. I quickly ingratiated, or conned, my way into becoming a founding member of a fledgling band with other students. We started writing and performing original alternative-rock songs slightly beyond our collective skill level but still catchy and accomplished enough to earn us a devoted local audience. That band led to another and then another, and so on, until those disjointed, happenstance efforts eventually became something that I’m only now comfortable viewing as worthy of the general public’s attention.

For the past 40 years, I’ve survived on the fringes of that world as a performing artist, record producer, music journalist, and concert promoter. Some of those roles fit better than others. Yet, all things considered, in hindsight, I suppose this myriad of DIY accomplishments add up to an accidentally well-rounded “career” in that industry.

With that in mind, today’s dispatch is a grab-bag of music-biz-related items that have caught my eye as they came down the wire. They’re an interesting snapshot of the unpredictably bizarre and nonsensical business of making, selling, and distributing music in 2024. Let me know how these stories resonate with you by replying to this email or, for my paid subscribers, leaving a comment.

Jay-Z, Kanye, and Phil?

First, I can’t get enough of this ridiculous tale from the inimitable electric guitar wizard Phil Manzanera of the 1970s and 1980s British glam-scene art-rock icons Roxy Music and the experimental rock supergroup 801. In his just-released memoir Revolution to Roxy, he describes how a few seconds of a forgotten, tossed-off guitar lick he came up with in 1978 wound up unexpectedly generating more cold, hard cash for him than an entire half-century’s pay-outs from his most famous and acclaimed band. The guitar line also appeared on a quirky solo prog-rock album that sank without much of a trace that same year.

The Virgin executive… added that they’d already negotiated the guitarist would receive a third of the royalties from sales of the track… (and) even ventured Manzanera would probably earn more from the track than Jay-Z or West.

That’s what can happen when two of hip-hop’s biggest artists lift a few seconds of your playing and make it a focal point of the lead track on their massively successful album.

Get a load of the entire anecdote at the link above, as it’s a doozy. 

For those who’ve never heard much of Manzanera’s solo work, here’s the 1978 track in question — from an album that featured a stellar cast of session musicians and singers, including drummer Simon Phillips (The Who, Toto), vocalists Tim and Neil Finn (Crowded House) and Godley and Crème (10cc), and bassist John Wetton (King Crimson, Asia):

And here’s how it was turned into a real moneymaker:

Are you familiar with this Jay-Z and Kanye track? If so, were you also already familiar with Manzanera’s music? Have you ever been led to discover and enjoy an artist’s work by tracking down their original source of samples? Let me know!

Way down in the hole

Coincidentally, just a few weeks before I learned of Manzanera’s good fortune, I discovered the fascinating online resource, WhoSampled.com. It helps musicians, producers, and fans understand the complex sonic architecture that undergirds modern pop songs. Dive in at your own risk, as it’s easy to spend a lot of time exploring this labyrinthine database of pilfering paying homage.

Who’s Zoomin’ Who?

I steadfastly refuse to engage with anything related to Spotify or the asshole “visionary” who runs that sham of an “audio streaming and media service provider.” It is the world’s largest artist-unfriendly Hoover vacuum of money, which sucked up close to $14.5 billion in revenue in 2023 alone, despite paying musicians virtually nothing for their work. I do, however, keep track of the various bad-faith mechanisms Spotify uses to generate massive fortunes for its management and stockholders while brazenly screwing over recording artists, songwriters, and composers.

Its service is designed to be almost preternaturally convenient and predictive for the average user. However, Spotify is increasingly utilizing opaque, cutting-edge technology to maximize its revenues without regard to the destruction it causes to career musicians and engineers, producers, and promotional teams.

First, there is the increasingly common use of AI to cheaply generate soulless, synthetic, soundalike tracks and albums by nonexistent “artists” the public assumes are real people. In fact, they are designed by computer algorithms to appeal to fans of existing musical acts. These tracks then lay in heavy rotation to displace recordings by human artists, which Spotify must —by law— pay royalties to stream.

This saves the company many millions of dollars each year.

This next practice predates the AI ruse for much longer. Spotify games its own system by striking secretive contractual arrangements with specific artists and/or labels. Those entities agree to license their musical tracks to Spotify at a fraction of the standard rate — but in exchange, flood the company’s catalog with hundreds or even thousands of essentially interchangeable tunes, all created and recorded by a handful of people but disingenuously credited to dozens or even hundreds of imaginary “artists.”

This underhanded deception allows a small number of people with access to even a basic, home-based recording studio to quickly supplant scores of other unique, individual acts on the platform while masquerading as numerous, unrelated solo acts or even “groups.” The music these folks create is not inherently sub-par. But by colluding with the platform to lease their recordings at lower rates than most musicians would accept, they receive favorable positioning, guaranteeing more plays. They are profiting off the misfortune of their musical peers while Spotify laughs all the way to the bank.

Such piano-heavy playlists are particularly popular among users seeking music to play in the background while they work, eat meals or relax. Inclusion on one of these highly popular lists can make or break a musician’s career.

Meet Johan Röhr, the Swedish superstar no one’s ever seen.

Waxahatchee breaks big

And finally, here’s an unrelated, brand-new performance by an artist I really dig, and one who’s well on their way to breaking out of the indie-folk world and into established mainstream consciousness.

Alabama native Katie Crutchfield garnered critical acclaim recording and performing under the name Waxahatchee for over 12 years now. But even though she’s performed at the fabled Newport Folk Fest to rave reviews, she only landed on my radar recently. She openly mines the same rich vein of bittersweet country vocal harmonies and slow-burn melancholic string-band meditations as Gillian Welch and David Rawlings. The entirely warranted buzz surrounding Waxahatchee’s latest album is allowing her to finally make the leap into headlining 2,500-seat U.S. theaters — backed by a rough and ready combo including drummer Spencer Tweedy, son of Wilco frontman (and Americana royalty) Jeff Tweedy.

For this recent, sublime late-night TV performance, the group is joined on guitar and backing vocals by Asheville’s MJ Lenderman, a 25-year-old wunderkind. He draws the eye and ear here as he did mine during his recent Savannah appearance with Wednesday, his own band, at the Lodge of Sorrows all-ages warehouse space.

When it comes to music of this type, folks, it really doesn’t get much better than this. Paging Ryan McMaken: Let’s get Waxahatchee at the Ships of the Sea Museum for the 2025 Savannah Music Fest!

Until next time, dear readers.

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When reached by phone on Sunday, March 24, 2024, Mr. Else is caught in a moment that’s completely relatable to everyone.

“Sorry it took me a minute to answer,” the 35-year-old says good-naturedly and, seemingly, a bit warily. “I was underneath my truck, working on it.”

This wasn’t the first phone call from a complete stranger this public middle school teacher from the Fort Worth suburb of North Richland Hills, TX. fielded over the past few days, and it won’t be the last. However, in the grand scheme of things, it may be one of the most important to his immediate future. That’s because, over the course of our brief chat and correspondence by text message and email, the married Army veteran, former insurance adjuster, and frustrated American voter would agree to what will go down on record as his first —and so far, only— in-depth interview since announcing his candidacy for the office of President of the United States.

I’d caught him just a little over a day since news of his low-key, longshot campaign began to circulate in regional Texas media outlets but had yet to hit the international news cycle, where it’s now starting to gain a modicum of traction — even if his efforts are being presented by some outlets as little more than an attempt at a brief rush of online celebrity, a novelty gag rather than a serious bid for the job of a world leader.

That inclination to view Mr. Else’s candidacy as a goof was undoubtedly reinforced by his vague, bare-bones official website. “Please understand the website is a complete work-in-progress,” he said early into our first conversation. “I had to get something up there quickly, and it’s going to be evolving over time.” Much, he adds, like himself as a candidate.

No one has really been able to pin Mr. Else down on much of anything specific regarding his views on matters of national import or foreign relations.

Until now, that is.

I'd initially expressed to him that the sooner he laid down some definitive positions on various matters that carry great weight with the electorate, the sooner other media outlets and potential supporters could decide whether to take him seriously as a presidential contender.

it appears he took that suggestion to heart.

“I’ll just be honest with you,” he admits on a subsequent phone conversation a few days after our first chat and a day after receiving my detailed queries. “These questions were hard. And they forced me to really think about a lot of things which I had not up until now.”

“I told you the other day that this whole campaign is evolving as it goes, and answering these questions was a part of that process,” says the graduate of Texas Christian University. “I was up until 5 a.m. working on this.”

Staying up until five in the morning gnashing one’s teeth over important decisions when you have to teach a gaggle of pubescent teenagers just a few hours later is the kind of hard work and dedication citizens expect of someone asking for their vote for the highest position in the land. So, right off the bat, he ticks that column.

“I have turned down or put off some of the other people asking me for interviews so I could complete this one,” he avows. I was flattered. By the time this interview hits the web, most folks and media outlets will still have no idea that he is even running.

But running he is. He filed with the Texas Election Commission and is now trying to gather enough signatures to place him on that state’s November ballot as an independent presidential candidate. As per Texas laws, he has until May 13, 2024, to submit well over 100,000 signatures from petitioners supporting his candidacy. That would be hard enough on its own. However, this tall order is made even taller because all those individuals must also be registered voters. On top of that, those registered voters cannot have already voted in Texas’ presidential primaries for either the Democratic or Republican Parties.

Then again, Texas’ longstanding and almost mythical reputation as being a locus in this nation that’s particularly open to and supportive of the fiercely independent streaks of its citizens might work well for such an outside-the-box approach to the presidency.

Mr. Else is adamant that he understands the needle he must thread to make it onto his home state’s ballots, let alone those of other states. Since those states have their own deadlines and requirements for such an independent presidential run, his most likely path to earning votes come November is to apply to become a write-in candidate in as many states as possible — including his own.

That’s because, in Texas, at least, the secretary of state is obliged by law to accept votes in his name, as long as voters write it in come election time.

In his name. That’s the clencher.

On January 12 of this year, Dustin Ebey, the man I’ve introduced to you, legally changed his full name to “Literally Anybody Else.”

He’s accommodating and happily responds to Mr. Else, Literally, or Anybody. Or, I suppose, any combination of the three.

Now, for those of you reading this who have just written this gentleman off as some sort of prankster or Harlequin doing his best to throw a spanner in the works of the Ticktockman, Mr. Else is quick to disabuse folks of that perfectly understandable notion.

"I'm not delusional,” he told that local ABC-TV affiliate on March 22. “This will be very hard to do, but it's not impossible. My hope is to have ‘Donald Trump,’ ‘Joe Biden,’ and then ‘Literally Anybody Else’ right underneath. I really want there to be an outlet for folks like me who are just so fed up with this constant power grab between two parties that has no benefit for the common person.

"Write that name in — we don't really have a 'neither' option on the ballot, and this fills that role," he said.

“I mean, you have one person who is part of the one percent, wealth-wise. And the other person, who’s part of an even smaller percentage of just politicians. I mean, he’s been a politician for what? 60-something years? Is he still really in touch with people like me? With people like you? You know, if you’re not in it, can you truly understand what the struggles are? We don’t have an outlet to say, ‘We’re done. We’re tired, and we need something fresh.’”

No matter what your views are on the idea of tilting at windmills or the very real dangers of so-called “spoiler candidates,” there is no denying that the former Dustin Ebey is quite sincere in his quest to be a viable option for as many citizens of this country as possible in this election cycle. You can view his official website at: LiterallyAnybodyElse.com

The complete text of my email interview with Literally Anybody Else follows. It has only been extremely lightly edited, and then only for clarity, not for length or subject matter.

Jim Reed: Tell me a bit about how you came to change your name and launch this longshot campaign for the presidency of the United States of America.

Literally Anybody Else: The leaf that broke the camel's back would have to be the Republican Debate in January. I knew I didn't like Biden's policies or what he stands for and had held out hope that the Republicans would put forth a leader worth supporting, but unfortunately, I ended the night more politically dispossessed than I was willing to accept. I had already purchased the domain with the intent to sell t-shirts and other memorabilia and finally decided to go through with what was a very persistent intrusive thought.

When did you first come up with the idea?

It was first a passing idea back in the 2020 election. I had voted third party in 2016, I guess trying to accomplish what I've set out to do today. Trump never seemed like a legitimate candidate. I can get behind several of his policies, but I can say the same for Biden as well. The issues are also exacerbated not only by what they stand for but by what effect they have on the country. I don't remember this kind of childish anger in the '90s, yet today, it is a hallmark of success for Congress to simply come together and sit at the same table, something that should be mundane and common.

How long afterward did you actually legally change your name and then file the paperwork to get on the ballot in your home state of Texas?

The paperwork can't actually be filed yet. Texas requires me, as an independent, to collect 113,151 signatures before May 13th, and I wasn't allowed to start until after the primaries. I did the math one time and if I made a full-time job out of collecting signatures, I would need three to four every minute with a 40-hour schedule. For a true dash for the Oval Office, I'd probably need to focus on the 40 least populated states. Their votes count for more because of the Electoral College. For now, I wish to focus on messaging and rallying the people. It is near impossible to win, but it's a sad truth that it is the least impossible it has ever been for an independent candidate this election cycle… not counting George Washington.

How many people did you run this idea past before doing it, and who were they? Friends, family, co-workers, political consultants? 

My wife, for sure, for months.

What sort of feedback did you receive from them? 

We were —and are— concerned about our lives being on display if this takes off. This isn't really something anyone has ever done, so it's hard to speculate how far the message in the name can go. I know the sentiment resonated with most people I talked to, but no one wants a microscope into their life.

Were they encouraging or discouraging? 

The biggest concern my wife and I have is what happens after November when my name goes back to Dustin. Will I forever be the crazy guy who changed his name to a wild gimmick and made a bid for the presidency? This will likely have a real effect on my hireability. My father-in-law said that I needed to "make sure that the juice was worth the squeeze." If it weren't for my three-year-old daughter, I probably never would have gotten the courage to actually go through with a legal change.

If anyone discouraged you from doing this, what were their reasons for doing so? Did they feel you were opening yourself up to an international spotlight with the potential to be intrusive or annoying? Or another reason entirely?

Yeah, it is such a disquieting thing to do — to open myself up to this level of scrutiny. I do think that it is worth the effort. Not to me alone, but (in) aggregate, to the country.

Has anyone expressed a fear for your safety? This is an unusually dark and volatile world of late.

Well, the unconventionality of it and the potential to make life VERY public makes my wife, understandably… hesitant. She does support the message in general, and she values that it is important to me to be active in sharing it. There was worry about me being targeted by assassins — and that was not brought up in jest. 

Have you ever run for any office before (no matter how small or local)? City Council? School Board? County Assessor? Board of Elections? Student Council President? If so, for what position(s), and how did that turn out?

When I was studying nutrition at TCU (I was not a nutrition major, by the way), I applied to fill a vacant seat on the dietetics board in Texas. I thought it was sketchy that they didn't reach out to me, and the seat (ultimately) remained vacant.

I did try to give this name a test run, though. The school district I work for elects Trustees every year, and all three up for reelection were running unopposed. I have several problems with how students are getting educated, so I thought I'd see how well the name would be received. I did some research and decided (at the) last second not to run, as it would have cost the district $80,000, and I couldn't justify to myself costing the district the price of a veteran teacher's salary. The issues I have with the education system are above the district level, anyway. 

Oh, wait. Back around 2008 or so, I was on the board of a non-profit called Sacred Hope. We sheltered homeless people for one bitterly cold winter. I learned a lot about managing people then, as a 19-to-20-year-old. I can't remember if we ever got the 501c(3) status or not.

For many, who they vote for is deeply private, while others are comfortable discussing that publicly. Do you mind telling me if you have ever been a registered member of any major political party? Also, do you mind telling me who you have voted for in the past five presidential elections?

(Laughs) I've only been eligible to vote in the last four. Yes, I was registered as a Republican and typically voted red until 2016. I grew up Christian and just blindly accepted that Republicans are the party that most closely aligns with Christian values. I started getting a feeling of dissonance about it as I got older and exercised more independence with my political views and thoughts. I started evaluating my own beliefs and the party with the same level of scrutiny as I did other religions and their dogma. I fell onto the sad truth that most major religions got their foothold through violence. I am still a Christian, but that's primarily through reinforcement of a belief that we are fearfully and wonderfully made, and Christianity highlights the personal responsibility of the individual rather than of collective punishment, aka identity politics.

To answer your question, I don’t remember having the freedom to vote when I was in college or the military. I mean, yeah, I could physically go, but I was so concerned with just making ends meet that I just didn't have the time to make any kind of informed decision(s). I did vote once in the military, but I think that was for a mid-term. I voted Gary Johnson in '16, and then —reluctantly— Trump in '20. (I'm) not proud of it, but here's to honesty.

Based on your answer to that last question, are there any votes for specific candidates in the last five presidential election cycles that you now regret? If so, what year, for whom did you cast your ballot, and why do you regret that decision?

I do regret not participating in my younger years, but I've grown since then. My own views are much more independent now than back then. I appreciated Obama's charisma as a president. I didn't pay attention enough at the time to care about his policies aside from what affected me as a service member. In the infantry you are just trying to make it to the next meal. Especially in an organization that drinks as much Kool-Aid as the 82nd.

To answer your question, January 6th did turn my reluctance into regret. I should have voted (for) whoever the Libertarian candidate was. Had there been a Literally Anybody Else candidate then, I'd have voted for 'em. 

I know this has all just been put in motion, and your website is still under construction. However, your listed policy positions are, generally speaking, fairly vague. Do you expect you will add details to those positions soon, or are you comfortable with holding vague positions as long as they reflect your genuine feelings?

Yeah, that’s my inexperience showing. I am looking for experienced individuals who are at least slightly expert in the field to bounce some ideas that I have off of. I tend to come up with ideas that neither (party) has considered, so I don't have a basis for evaluating them. A work-based tax plan —instead of one that is income-based— is one example that is hard to explain. I'd like to sit with thought leaders and (just) citizens in general to hash out its strengths and weaknesses. 

I'm of the opinion that representatives should represent what their constituents believe when it comes to making decisions on their behalf. Politicians should keep their personal beliefs in check. Not abandon them, but to put (their constituents) first.

I noticed that seven of the most hotly contested and divisive topics currently at the forefront of the minds of American voters and their elected leaders were completely absent from your website’s policies page. Would you mind giving me a basic understanding of your positions on those topics? That will help the general public to know if they feel comfortable casting their ballot for you in November. Those topics are:

1. What is your stance on abortion rights? Specifically, whether or not a woman's right to choose what to do with her own body should only be up to herself and her doctor or whether the state or the federal government should have any say in such matters.

So, my mom was actually 17 when she had me. She told me that her friends had encouraged her to get an abortion. It's a scary thought to know that my existence could depend on the whim of a teenager. I'm thankful my mom is a God-fearing, conscientious woman, or else I wouldn't be here.

My daughter was stillborn this past November. At 32 weeks, the umbilical cord had wrapped around her neck six times, killing her. I held her in my arms, and no one can tell me that she did not have a right to live despite her passing.

Non-spontaneous abortions can have medical necessity, and I believe every one of those should be allowed. At no point should a mother be at risk of losing permanent damage to life, limb, or eyesight. I would classify rape pregnancies in this category as a significant mental health detriment.

I'll lose people on both sides for this, but my honest view of everything else is that it depends on society's capacity to care for the child. Not willingness but capacity.

If a mother is neither willing nor society capable, then yeah, she should be allowed to terminate (I'm not clear on the latest term). If the mother is willing but not capable, you can't force a mother to murder her child. If the mother or society is capable but not willing, then pregnancy should be compelled to carry to term if it reaches past ten to13 weeks.

I'll say on this topic that I am fully aware of my status as a man and [that] my stance is likely to evolve [over time] through honest discourse. This is my stance; ultimately, as a representative, I would reflect the country's beliefs as a representative should. It is best as a state-level issue, where representation is closer to those affected. 

2. What is your stance on gun control regarding the availability of assault-style/military-style weapons to the general public, as well as universal background checks and the legality of both bump stocks and ghost guns?

This question has always bugged me. To Republicans, this has always (in my mind) been an issue of whether we trust the government enough to give it a true monopoly on violence. To Democrats, this is an issue of how deadly should a stranger be allowed to be? 

I think it's Finland that has similar gun ownership rates as the U.S., with far less gun crime. While I wouldn't take away guns from Americans, I would definitely take away any firearm from any individual who doesn't respect it. Any use of it as non-self-defensive intimidation or "flexing," take it and lock it up. If anybody can't have the wherewithal to respect and safely operate [a gun], then that person does not have the right to own a gun. It's a public safety issue.

Bump stocks are already illegal. Ghost guns are scary, not because of their ability to be manufactured in secret, but because they can be applied to unmanned vehicles. I dread the thought that one day, a sociopathic criminal is going to rig a lethal drone together and initiate an attack with complete anonymity.

It is more a problem of interpersonal relationships than an actual problem with firearms. We need a policy that helps people avoid self-isolation. 

3. Should the U.S. continue to support Ukraine's defense against Russia's war and invasion, both financially and through weapons systems and training?

I hate that this sounds avoidant, but the truth is that I don't trust propaganda from either side. Just like I did with my religion, it would be foolish to laugh at the Russian news propaganda and not give my news the same level of scrutiny. I could answer this more specifically if I knew I could trust the information available to me.

Depending on the truth of the conflict, adopt a tit-for-tat strategy in providing support for Ukraine. If everyday Russians truly are the demons the media say, then yeah. Defend allies and support them as a buffer to stave off WW3. If the Russians are like us and just do what they are told is right, then adapt the strategy. 

Support Ukraine in a way that brings both parties to the peace table. It always ends there, anyway. I'd choose the option that first and foremost prioritizes the lives of Americans (in the long term) and then prioritizes the preservation of life for everyone else. I know I'll lose some (support) by weighing American lives greater than those of other countries, but as a president, I would never regret doing so when faced with that ultimatum. 

4. Should the U.S. insist that Israel institute a meaningful cease-fire in Gaza and then work towards a two-state solution to try and ensure a lasting peace with the Palestinians — and, if they are unwilling to agree to those requests, should the U.S. cajole them into doing so by significantly reducing the amount of military aid we give Israel?

As with the Russia situation, I don't know enough about the real situation to have an opinion. With Israel, I understand there are far more nuances. The analogy given to me was the school bully finally got the weak kid to snap and brought a gun to school. Now, the world is divided between calling out the bully and telling the weak kid to put his gun away. I don't like this analogy, but I haven't met anyone who claims a true understanding of the real situation over there.

5. Should the U.S. Supreme Court be expanded to include additional judges and/or adopt anti-corruption policies for itself that are at least as tough as those that already exist for lower courts?

That is a highly contextual decision. I would add justices if I believed in their net benefit to the country – regardless of the current count. But the higher the count, the higher the bar they would have to meet, and I doubt anyone could be that perfect and want to do that job. I believe that transparency in the courts should be held in high value. From there, Congress should exercise the power to impeach.

6. Did Donald Trump win or lose the 2020 presidential election? If he won, did he win fair and square? If he lost, was that only because he was somehow cheated out of it, making Joe Biden an illegitimate president who was not fairly elected?

He lost. That said, I remember thinking it was SUPER sketchy that we had the highest voter turnout ever during a pandemic. I personally actually received two mail-in ballots. I only filled out one and threw the other away. But yeah, I wasn't even trying and could have committed voter fraud. So, when I say he lost, I can, at best, say he lost with 90% confidence. 

7. Was the January 6th riot in fact a violent, attempted insurrection and overthrow of the U.S. government, even if it was poorly organized, and did not in the end succeed? Or was it just an unruly crowd that meant no real harm and did no real damage?

I never felt that it met the definition of an insurrection. Many people there did mean harm and did real damage and should be prosecuted. But the majority of people from what I remember seeing that day, were just stupid [folks] doing stupid things. The security for the next time better be flawless, though. Honestly, in 2024, do the politicians even need to do it in person?

Many people consider choosing between "two evils" a very depressing choice. However, are you concerned that by mounting a protest campaign of this sort, you may instead siphon just enough votes away from both establishment candidates, act as a spoiler, and wind up virtually guaranteeing that one will handily beat the other? That might wind up being the greater of two evils. Would it not be better for the country to have the lesser of two evils win rather than the greater of two evils?

This has been a major concern for a majority of people and is the ultimate trap for any third party entering the arena. As an independent candidate, even if that did happen, I would hope it would be a wake-up call for the losing party and teach them that they need to stay more centrist than extreme. [The] winning party, too. I'm sure everyone feels the same way — that if I can take the Oval Office, either my leadership skills are phenomenal, or it really did get that bad with the two parties. Again, my candidacy is a call to challenge the status quo. To break the norms of political parties and demand better. 

At the end of this candidacy, if you do not win the election, do you plan on changing your name back to what you have gone by for the rest of your life, or will you keep the new name to more easily run in future presidential races?

One thousand percent. I like my name, Dustin. Even if I won, I would change my name back to Dustin before the inauguration. It's embarrassing that I even took this step to send the message I wanted to send. If it didn't have the utility it has, then I never would have done it. I mean hey, you called me, and here we are doing an interview. I am a seventh-grade math teacher! Would you have called Dustin Ebey, the seventh-grade math teacher, for an interview?

This name is a beacon for everyone who resonates with the meaning of the name. Ironically enough, Dustin means "valiant fighter," so I guess it wasn't far off in predicting my journey through adversity. [I'm] still trying to earn the "valiant" part of my name, though.

I don't really have any intention of running after this election. I can't really say that I won't. It all depends on the support I receive this election. I pray with all my heart that it can't be worse than this to necessitate me putting myself out there like this again. 

You served for several years in the Army. How did that experience play a role in your outlook on U.S. politics, and how do you feel your military experience will make you the best person for the job in a world with increasing global conflicts and horrific terrorism?

The Army is very structured and hierarchical. I learned what good and bad leadership looked like. I was not a perfect person in the military. I had a chaotic blend of resentment and entitlement that came from not fulfilling my original contract to become Special Forces. 

Folks always like to get to know their presidential candidates on a fun, personal level. Please name three movies you don't think you will ever tire of seeing, five record albums you will always enjoy listening to, and three books you feel every person should read.

Movies would be Big Man on Campus, maybe Emperor's New Groove and Instinct, with Cuba Gooding Jr.

For record albums, my mom recently showed me a song called "Do Something" by Mathew West. I've always taken an odd comfort in many Roger Miller songs. I am having trouble coming up with more off-the-cuff music choices... Third Day was always an easy listen for those who grew up Christian. For me, my last two choices would be (just about) anything country or dubstep.

What is one thing you can promise the American public they could always count on you to do as President, no matter what?

Prioritize representation. That and balance the budget. Trump added $7 trillion, while Biden added $2 trillion to the national debt. That comes out to about $21,212 of debt from Trump and $6,060 from Biden (estimated) that every American is on the hook for — including my three-year-old daughter and 86-year-old grandfather. $6,060.

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Jim Reed on music, film, TV, and pop culture. Plus, the unique personalities and stories that epitomize the history and mystery of Savannah, Georgia.

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My paternal grandmother, Ruby Dawn Reed, whom almost everyone called “Rubydawn,” as though it were one word, was a humble, kind-natured, and God-fearing Methodist from the backwoods of East Tennessee.

Born in 1914, she was a force of nature and a lovely, sweet soul with a strong moral compass. She could ride a horse and kill a varmint from a far distance with a rifle if the situation called for it, yet she never learned to drive a car and had an abiding distrust (read: fear) of electric dishwashers.

She passed away in 2004 at the age of 89. For several decades before heading on to her sweet reward, she filled a series of spiral-bound notebooks with dozens, maybe hundreds of pithy and sometimes humorous observations on life, its vagaries, and its perplexities, which she repeatedly titled Points To Ponder.

Grandma Rubydawn put a lot of effort into this ongoing compendium; likewise, she took a lot of pride in her achievement. A few years after her death, I was surprised to realize that at least a significant portion of the musings in these notebooks was cribbed from other inspirational sources rather than having sprung, fully formed, from the furrowed brow of her own Appalachian noggin.

These days, I can’t help but think of these weekly Friday morning dispatches here on Wicked Messenger as a digital, online version of my very own Points To Ponder. These are things I happen to find interesting that have come across my radar. Now they’ve come across yours.

This week, we’ll delve into dispatches from the world of Psychotronica — which only makes sense, as I founded and have overseen one of the longest-running independent cinema organizations in the world devoted entirely to presenting public screenings of overlooked or underrated feature motion pictures from around the globe.

From October 2003 until the start of the Covid lockdown at the end of February 2020, the Psychotronic Film Society of Savannah (PFS of SAV) hosted upwards of 65 events each year, screening foreign, cult, indie, classic, fringe, forgotten, niche, and experimental cinema in a wide variety of settings — from a 50-seat counterculture coffeehouse to 1,200-seat balconied theaters. The organization ceased public events during the pandemic and shifted to a virtual streaming model. But, after almost two years of biweekly online events, it went into extended hibernation, where it remains until circumstances align for a proper public relaunch.

I still keep up with all manner of Psychotronic Film-related developments, releases, and milestones, such as these:

Starcrash

It’s hard to believe it’s been almost a half-century since the fabled Italian schlock filmmaker Luigi Cozzi beat virtually everyone else in the celluloid plagiarism game to the punch by ripping off the original Star Wars with a quickly-made take on that trendsetting, action-packed, and ludicrously profitable space opera. His film cost less than half to complete than George Lucas’ vision required. Not familiar with Starcrash? Well, you haven’t lived until you’ve seen a pre-Knight Rider David Hasselhoff as Prince Simon, a member of another planet’s royalty who wears what looks like an Ogilvie home perm and sports a wardrobe that could have come straight from the closeout bin at Chess King.

As the motley crew navigates planets populated by Amazonian women who could have escaped from a Russ Meyer sexploitation and rampaging cavemen who, in a scene that potentially scarred younger viewers for life, hack poor Elle into pieces, the viewer experience takes a turn. You’re still well aware that Starcrash is unadulterated B-movie nonsense, but you also start to appreciate its ludicrous, super-camp charms.

Over the years, the PFS of SAV showed Starcrash on the big screen, as well as a few other foreign-made dime-store Star Wars clones, such as the unbelievable head-scratcher The Humanoid, another Italian “homage” released barely one year after Cozzi’s flick, and starring the future Mrs. Ringo Starr, Barbara Bach. There are enough Star Wars knockoffs to become a sub-genre in and of themselves. But Starcrash, and its Honey Baked performance by the esteemed Oscar, Tony, and Emmy Award-winning — and, one can only assume, broke— thespian Christopher Plummer is easily the most accomplished of them all.

Fun fact: Back in the mid-1990s, I produced and drummed on an independent rock album by the critically acclaimed singer-songwriter Greg Williams, which features Grammy-winner Shawn Mullins and legendary lead guitarist Bob Elsey that opens with a tune that's meant as a lyrical tribute of sorts to sultry actress Caroline Munro’s title character in the film, Stella Starcrash, and a musical tribute to David Bowie's landmark 1972 concept album The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars.

Are you a Starcrash fan? Do you get a particular thrill from watching “bad” movies, or do you fall into the camp that finds it hard to appreciate egregiously flawed films on their own terms? Let me know by replying to this email or, for those paying members, by commenting below!

Repo Man Sequel

That brings us to the latest installment of “Sweet Fancy Moses, I Can’t Believe After All These Years Somebody Actually Came Up With The Money To Allow The Original Filmmaker To Do This.” 

The filmmakers promise to “deliver an enthralling mix of punk energy, existential comedy, and unconventional storytelling, navigating the absurd and chaotic world of repo men into a new age of nuclear brinkmanship and driverless cars.

I know my beady-eyed Boston buddy Kevin F. Rose will be happier to hear about this than to learn he just won a delicious, free plate of shrimp. For many independent thinkers of my age (54 going on 27), the original film in question, which now appears after 40 years to be merely the first installment in some sort of a franchise, fundamentally altered our perceptions of just what life could —or should— perhaps be for our generation. No, really, it did. Did it have that effect on you? Or am I spouting gibberish?

The Last Man on Earth – in 3D?!

And, last but certainly not least, while we’re on the subject of cinematic things I am finding it very hard to believe are finally happening… Here’s one that I certainly NEVER saw coming: a team of cinema restoration artists converting one of the greatest and most underappreciated ultra-low-budget, B&W sci-fi/horror films of the 1960s into an extremely impressive 3D motion picture. Oddly enough, once more, it’s an Italian production with an English-speaking American for a lead actor. This 3D conversion is also in old-school anaglyph red/green, no less! And get this: you can be part of making it happen through their Kickstarter campaign. These same folks have done this sort of project before with other cult fave B&W films, to rave reviews from devoted 3D movie enthusiasts.

Our customer feedback has been massively positive on our previous releases, here's some tasters of what they've been saying:

"There are scenes now that pop in a way they never could in 2D, and I was amazed at how good they looked.”

"Holy shit. The conversion is astounding… as if it were planned for the process from the start… there’s consistently fantastic depth and objects protruding offscreen throughout."

"There was never a moment for me where I was taken out of the experience by an obvious conversion error. The film offers a great 3D feeling and also has 3D passages where I just thought ‘Wow, that looks amazing.’ I got exactly what I love about 3D."

Many of us grew up familiar with Charlton Heston’s 1971 vehicle, The Omega Man, the second hippy-dippy film adaptation of the same phenomenal vampire apocalypse novel by beloved genre author and screenwriter Richard Matheson that this feature was based upon. However, 1964’s The Last Man on Earth was a much more accurate version of Matheson’s tale. The story would eventually be adapted again with slap-happy poseur Will Smith in the lead under the title of Richard’s original novel, I Am Legend.

The Psychotronic Film Society publicly screened the original 2D version of this extremely eerie film in 2010, and folks seemed to love it. If you can’t wait for the 3D conversion or prefer your movies flat as a pancake, you can view a surprisingly crisp and widescreen transfer of that 2D version for free right here.

If anyone out there has strong feelings one way or another on the entire notion of 3D films, please feel free to let me know in the comments. I am truly torn on the subject myself.

Until next time!

Let's all be straight with each other. 

If you're the sort of person who occasionally attends public film screenings or concerts, you’ve seen this coming for a long time. I certainly have, and I can't be alone.

The downward slide began in the early 1970s when the merging of technology and greed first allowed concerts by superstar musical acts to reliably and repeatedly transition from the smaller confines of theaters left over from the golden age of vaudeville and motion pictures and municipal civic auditoriums more acoustically appropriate for trade shows or beauty pageants to sports arenas, stadiums, and colosseums.

Colosseums. 

You know, the places originally designed and intended for Grand Guignol spectacles, such as the staged hunting of wild animals held in captivity and public human executions.  

I'm speaking of the slow death of the long-established rules of etiquette for those attending public concerts, readings, plays, discussions, film screenings, and artistic exhibitions of any kind. Those generally accepted principles of civilized behavior have been declining for a half-century. Still, it's only in the past five years or so that this demoralizing, infuriating rot has become something of a juggernaut that increasingly threatens the very social contract that exists between creators and performers and their audiences and which allows for broad swaths of the entertainment and cultural arts industries not merely to thrive, but to exist in a form which we’ve all taken for granted.

Hyperbole, much? Nah.

Twenty-four hours a day, you can feel it, and you can hear it.

Never more clearly and loudly than at a concert hall or a theater — rooms that used to serve as sacred spaces filled with a communal sense of respect and awe and which now, more often than not, seemingly serve as unofficial annexes of every braying jackass’ rumpus room.

Gone are the days before cell phones, the 24-hour news cycle, rampant overprescription of ADHD drugs, and the compression of Warhol's 15 minutes down to a mere 20 seconds or so. I long for the era when being lucky enough to catch a live show by an artist you admired was seen as an essential event to focus on with extreme diligence and to savor.

Perhaps you do as well?

It's increasingly difficult for those old enough to recall what life was like then to believe those recollections are real, not some implanted societal memory. The Mandela Effect, indeed.

How many times over the past two decades have you found yourself filled with rage directed at audience members whose pathetically self-important and immature behavior ruins your enjoyment of the event? How many times have you left a show you'd waited months or years for the chance to attend —and perhaps spent your last bottom dollar on for that very opportunity — only to realize before you'd even exited the building that your disappointment clouded your memory of the experience so much that it had left you with a deep sense of betrayal at the way those around you behaved?

Guilt by association. It's the worst. I’ll take properly placed guilt for my actions any day, and that's a horrible feeling.

Now, don't get me wrong. I fully comprehend that certain types of shows are designed for audience participation or, at the very least, conceived of with eyes wide open to the fact there's at least a decent chance such behavior may occur. It's factored into the equation by the artists, the performers, the filmmakers, and the fans. Creative intent can turn such educated assumptions into an asset for the finished product. Those needing proof of this should take 94 minutes out of their life to watch Shock Treatment, 1981's ill-fated but unfairly vilified follow-up to 1975's rock stage opera-turned-international cult cinema classic of psycho-sexual catharsis The Rocky Horror Picture Show.

However, one size does not fit all regarding the proper etiquette for audience members witnessing publicly performed or projected art in its myriad forms.

Now we come to the origin of this essay: the supposed impudence of noted Americana singer-songwriter John Mellencamp. 

It would appear that two nights ago on March 17, during the intimate, solo, acoustic portion of his concert in Toledo, Ohio, Mellencamp had —depending on who's typing— a meltdown, a breakdown, or a hissy fit. Purportedly, he acted in an unprofessional and irrational manner, verbally abusing his fans and robbing them of their God-given right to see him perform an entire show's worth of the type of exemplary, contemplative, literate, and highly poetic compositions he's known for.

Like this:

According to some, he threw a childish tantrum and ended his show halfway through, cursing and storming off stage, leaving the near-packed house at the 2,400-seat Stranahan Theater unfulfilled, insulted, and ripped off.

However, things are not always as they seem.

Not too long ago, there was a time when the opportunity to sit and see an acclaimed troubadour onstage alone in a hall designed explicitly for hushed performances was considered a momentous occasion. Indeed, it would be regarded worthy of a crowd's sustained, polite, if not rapt, attention. Wouldn't it stand to reason that the vast majority of folks willing to spend a significant amount of money to attend would care enough for the artist to show them a modicum of kindness and deference?

I think back to 1966, when Mellencamp's friend and songwriting hero Bob Dylan played a series of seated theater shows –quite similar to Mellencamp's current tour– throughout Europe and the United Kingdom, just before the release of his landmark double album Blonde on Blonde. Dylan split those shows into two segments: one found him alone on stage with an acoustic guitar and harmonica, and in the other, a complete electric band backed him up – again, just as on Mellencamp's current outing.

That legendary run of dates is well known for the uniformly loud, obnoxious, and antagonistic behavior of the sold-out crowds. The U.K. audiences, unhappy with the increasingly rambunctious direction of Dylan's latest music, displayed an especially vitriolic and arrogant attitude towards him. Angry booing, catcalling, and heckling happened every night. Dylan became increasingly grumpy and openly, vocally combative. By the end of the tour, Dylan was mocking some of the audiences and demanding his backing musicians "play fucking loud" to drown out the distracting and demeaning interaction from his "followers."

Here's the long-belated officially released recording of that moment, dripping with sneering proto-punk disdain (which was not even remotely common at rock shows until that point):

This unprecedented tense back-and-forth dialog between a pop artist and his supporters was immortalized on illegal, unauthorized recordings released and distributed clandestinely from the late 1960s onward to his hardcore devotees. Those awkward, hostile interactions came in many ways to define Dylan's still-ongoing prickly relationship with his own fervent, possessive fanbase.

However, one key aspect of that tour, which often eclipses its famously hostile moments, is that the solo acoustic portion of these shows prominently showcased new, densely-layered compositions that had yet to be released commercially. Thus, almost half the running time of each of those nightly solo segments comprised material unknown to literally everyone in attendance. They were all hearing them for the very first time together. 

These days, when most established, legacy artists perform their latest songs, let alone new and unheard material, many in the crowd see that as their cue to head for the restroom or concession stand. However, in 1966, during the unveiling of these tunes, the halls were eerily whisper-quiet. In fact, on the various audience recordings of that run of shows, one cannot even make out a whisper from the crowds. What you can hear, however, is the sound of polite, attentive, and laser-focused fans hanging on every note and syllable coming from the stage.

In other words, silence.

The contrast between the two halves of those shows is jaw-dropping.

Here's a recording of one such mesmerizing example of audience non-participation during a completely unknown piece of music:

While it's true that a good bit of the resentment that these audiences felt toward Dylan was rooted in their dislike for what they perceived as his temerity in augmenting previously sparse, primarily acoustic compositions with a full complement of electric guitars, drums, piano, and organ, there's more to it than that. Back then, folks cared more about how they behaved in public. And, they had been brought up to recognize, understand, and —most importantly— respect the extreme power they wielded, both alone and together, in the implicit contract between stage performers and their audiences.

The image of a lone minstrel, figuratively naked on a brightly lit stage in a darkened hall, surrounded by strangers, striving for their attention and acceptance, is one of the most powerful that exists. That image and that symbolic —and symbiotic— relationship can and has moved mountains, won rights for the disenfranchised, and fundamentally changed the course of human history.

Does that mean I equate Mellencamp's show two nights ago in Toledo with the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.'s March on Washington speech? No, of course not.

But it does mean that some things in this world deserve a modicum of respect for the inherent difficulty of the task at hand, such as sharing a sincere, personal moment by oneself on stage in front of thousands of people. As the singer was doing when he was so rudely interrupted this past Sunday.

The audience-shot video of the incident tells the tale. And from where I sit, as both an ardent live music fan and someone who's had the occasion countless times over the past 36 years or so to be on stages in front of crowds of all types, there was no "meltdown" or "tantrum" or abdication of any responsibility to the audience. There was just an honest, candid, human reaction to workplace stress — albeit the kind of reaction that most song-and-dance-men are reluctant to display in front of the folks who pay their bills and prop up their Jenga-like egos.

It's worth noting that while Mellencamp did, in fact, abruptly end his show after being loudly and rudely interrupted by an impertinent and self-absorbed concertgoer, he restarted the show a while later, ultimately completing a truncated version of his usual set. Many people in the crowd —either because they took him at face value when he initially claimed to be done or because they took umbrage at what they perceived to be entitled behavior on his part— missed his return because they left almost immediately after he walked off stage.

It's also worth noting that the songwriter has in the past been publicly vocal about just how annoying he finds it when audience members scream stuff at him while he is trying his darndest to perform stark, quiet, acoustic renditions of his tunes or between songs while he is in the process of telling some sort of personal anecdote which means a lot to him. He’s made no bones about this to a handful of his audiences over the years, and it’s been easy to chart the levels of his frustration with such behavior as time has passed. 

My favorite iteration of this ongoing "public service announcement" started to appear semi-regularly at his shows about two years ago. According to Daniel Sherman of the Dallas Observer, Mellencamp told the crowd at his March 2, 2023 show at Grand Prairie, Tx.'s Texas Trust CU Theatre, "This is the acoustic part of the set. If you're one of the people screaming in the quiet parts before, please go outside. This is the quiet part, so keep your fucking mouth shut."

Now, before you say to yourself, "Hey now, that seems a bit harsh," be aware that according to Sherman, only a few moments passed before a woman in the crowd loudly screamed for no apparent reason and to no obvious end, "John!" She did this likely because we are living in an increasingly broken-down hellscape of a society in which many of our fellow residents of the earth have convinced themselves that basic rules of civility and politeness don't apply to them, and ignoring or indeed obtruding such completely reasonable common values will engender no requite. 

However, the audience-shot video of this incident shows that Mellencamp batted not an eye when he instantly responded, with force, "What did I just fucking say!?"

That was the slap.

He followed with the tickle: "But, thank you."

A couple of weeks later, in San Francisco (interestingly enough, exactly one year prior to the date of this just-occurred Toledo show), he again carefully and bluntly explained his preference for audience restraint during his acoustic shows, as this terrific clip luckily preserves for posterity:

Fast forward two months, and at a May 2023 show of his in Cleveland, Ohio, Mellencamp had signs posted in the lobby for all who entered to see, which read: "This show respects theater etiquette." The only problem? A stunningly large number of folks these days have no idea what that phrase even means.

Seriously.

According to Eric Heisig of the Cleveland Scene, early in the show, the singer once more stridently explained to the assembled crowd, "I don’t like people screaming from the fucking audience." So, there’s that. Later, as a sizable contingent of the crowd continued to chat with each other unabated and one ticketholder yelled at him to "play the fucking music" while the singer was telling a story, Mellencamp unloaded on the room with a truth bomb.

"Listen. Hey, you guys," he was reported to have said. "If these people don’t shut the fuck up," he continued, "I’m just going to leave, OK? Because I’m not used to this crap." Fair enough, huh? How is someone supposed to properly do their job of entertaining the majority of the people in the venue when a loud and vocal minority is ruining their concentration and preventing them from doing said job?

"Look, guys," he wound up, "if I wanted to play in this type of drunken environment, I’d play outside, or I’d play in an arena."

As someone who has seen Mellencamp and his band perform a "greatest hits" set in an outdoor baseball stadium, I immediately knew where he was going with this. He doesn’t even attempt to play quiet, subtle songs or tell personal anecdotes in those environments. His setlists for outdoor festivals or big arena concerts are loud, fast, non-stop, and packed with nothing but his most famous singles. These shows serve as a sort of boisterous tailgate party, where entry-level fans of his who know him primarily from endless replays on classic rock or Top 40 radio stations can get their "Pink Houses" or “R.O.CK. In the U.S.A." fixes, chug a bunch of $9 to $12 Budweiser tall boys and help pay off one of Mellencamp's divorce settlements.

But these theater shows are designed differently. They’re aimed squarely at the singer's true fans. The ones who —in theory at least— wait with bated breath to hear him air out an overlooked deep cut or share a brief aside that gives them a glimpse behind the veil at their hero's true feelings or personality.

His reprimand to the crowd a couple of nights back in Toledo and his subsequent vacation of the stage must be viewed in this context

It is highly likely that well before the video of this incident, which now circulates online, begins, Mellencamp had once more good-humoredly explained his aversion to such behavior during the quiet, nuanced portions of his gigs (as opposed to the loud, boisterous, "rock" segments, which not only seem the far more logical time for someone to act out in that way but also a time during the night when the sheer volume onstage would render him far less able even to hear —let alone be thrown off by— such salutations or catcalls. So, when the unseen man in question boorishly makes himself known in such a deliberately insensitive way, Mellencamp has simply had enough.

I won't transcribe the rest of what transpires because the video found a few paragraphs below is quite clear and intelligible, and it warrants viewing by any who might feel —based on media reports alone— that Mellencamp was out of line. There's plenty of piss and vinegar in his voice, to be sure. Because, and let's again be honest here, Mellencamp is well-known, far and wide and for several decades now, as being a real piece of work. 

His assholishness is legendary. That blunt rudeness may go a long way towards explaining the deep and unexpected bond of friendship that grew not only between him and the infamously guarded (and often surly) Dylan. As well as between him and the preternaturally snide (and harshly critical) rock scribe Lou Reed — who surreptitiously name-checked Mellencamp on his highly revered 1989 album New York, referring to him pseudonymously as "My painter friend Donald." 

Mellencamp's dickish and petty behavior toward his backing musicians and his wives is well-known, and he does not suffer fools gladly. Even when acting the fool himself. And yet, his tone at this moment also contains plenty of weary, worn-out dejection. It's clear, he’s just done.

Who can blame him?

Little Johnny Cougar (as he was initially and ludicrously marketed at the start of his career) ain’t little anymore. He's 72, has famously been chain-smoking unrepentantly since his teens, and has already had at least one heart attack. He lives life on his terms. And yet, eventually, he returned to the stage, played a handful of additional songs, and refrained from mentioning the elephant in the room.

Now, maybe he did that because, after a green room phone call with his booking agent or manager, he realized that unless he hit a certain magic number for the total length of his performance that night, he would be on the hook to refund most (or all) of the crowd’s money. Or maybe he just cooled off, calmed down, and put his big boy pants back on. Regardless of his motivation, he did the remaining audience members a solid. There's no word on whether or not anyone in the chastened crowd dared to try and get his attention during that brief reappearance.

I don't go to see many concerts these days. Not the kind that I know are inherently geared for focused attention on the part of the audience, at least. I learned the hard way that far too few of my fellow humans can be trusted today not to step on the rest of our feet in the delicate dance between performer and crowd, and that's to my detriment, as I adore enjoying and take pride in supporting live music.

Availing myself of a dedicated "Listening Room" show is another thing entirely, as those venues actively market themselves as places where the audience sits quietly and devotes their full attention to what's happening onstage — and, if the system works as it should, and everyone plays their part, anyone who thwarts those expectations is quickly and politely made to understand that such behavior simply isn't tolerated in that space. The odds are at least greater in that type of venue that I won't feel a load of tsuris welling up in my stomach as I reflexively, mentally put myself in the artist's place and become aggrieved on their behalf for the interruptions they must endure, and which I know cannot help but weaken their performance.

I know an increasing number of devoted music lovers who feel the same way. I also know that an entire generation of people, many of whom came of age during the COVID pandemic and lockdown years, are maturing into concertgoers who were never properly introduced to that very specific dance. They don't know the moves — or perhaps that such a dance ever existed. This phenomenon has been documented in plenty of recent newspapers, magazines, and journal articles, which all seem to be asking some variant of the question, "Whatever became of Concert Etiquette?"

In the end, Mellencamp may simply decide he is too old for this shit. 

But even if that is the case, I am reminded of the darkly droll words of another outspoken and at times provocative performer, comedian Dave Chappelle — who, back in August of 2007, appeared in front of a shockingly unruly 2,600-person capacity crowd at Savannah's own Johnny Mercer Theatre. 

Upon being confronted with several dozen (!) annoying interruptions throughout the first half-hour of his headlining set, Chappelle simply stopped talking and stood stock still on stage while a mind-numbing barrage of random screaming, heckling, and attempts at loud, full-on conversations with him by members of the (generally inebriated) audience continued unabated for over an entire minute. 

Then, once the screams had finally receded, he slowly raised the mic to his lips and, with a shrug of his shoulders that signaled what appeared to be a complete and total lack of interest or concern in the outcome of the situation, said matter-of-factly and with a slightly resigned chuckle  —so quickly that most in the crowd did not even seem to catch it— "Make all the noise you want. I got paid before the show."