The Real Memphis Mike (don't settle for imitations)

1979 – 1982: Garage Bands & Punk House Parties * Played anywhere that had an electrical outlet and a six-pack. * Frequently paid in beer, pizza, and the occasional “borrowed” ashtray. * Skills learned: tuning by ear (sort of), surviving feedback, and playing three chords with confidence. 1982 – 1990: The Swingin’ Cadillacs Hired as a guitarist. Demoted/promoted to bass player after two weeks because:   1. I owned a bass.   2. No one else did. Played biker bars, small-town festivals, and dives that could double as crime scenes. Accidentally became a “working bassist” — basically the cockroach of the music world: can survive anywhere. 1984 – 1987: Weddings, Top 40 Bands, Etc. Wore matching tuxedos and smiled through “Celebration” by Kool & the Gang. Learned the phrase: “Play Mustang Sally or we riot.” 1986 – 1987: Rattlesnake Shake (a.k.a. The Starlings) * Blues band in a town that didn’t know what to make of it. * Played with Robbie Wells (formerly of Rachel Sweet's ban...

 "Her name was Virginia - she never saw the world." "Virginia" wasn't just a song I wrote. She was a unique human being. For legal and ethical reasons, I'm reticent to go into too much detail, suffice to say that she was a resident in a facility I used to work at. For those unaware, I spent the better part of 30 years working with adults with developmental and chronic mental health issues. I met Virginia in 2010, and I can tell you this: our first meeting was legendary (at least to me).  I had just accepted the position as the overnight manager in a small section of a larger facility. The company I worked for leased out a 12-bed section for our mostly older, more chronic clients. Most lived with schizophrenia, and/or other chronic mental illness. Our folks lived alongside 100 or so other residents, most with some level of chronic illness. Without giving away too much information, the place was sad and, in some ways, absolutely disgusting. Cleanliness was at ...

 Last weekend pretty much ruined a solid 10 month run of peace and quiet for me. I'd stopped performing. What I thought was my last show was originally supposed to be the first with a new band. File it under SHIT HAPPENS. I was admittedly less than thrilled with the pace of the new band's progress. A couple dozen rehearsals (and one recording session) and we barely had 15 songs. But it was enough for one good set. I had a show booked. It was a low key event, no pressure...just enough to get us up and running. The evening before the show, the drummer came down with COVID. And the bass player was fighting a stomach bug. They bailed.  I'm not one to cancel a show if I don't absolutely have to*. I tried to round up a rhythm section (last minute) but no one was available. So it became a solo show. I used to do a lot of these, but it had been years since the last time. I made it happen. People claimed to enjoy it. I sat my big ol' posterior on a chair and cut loose on old...

 I was listening to an interview with Rodney Crowell the other night. He was saying something about a book he was part of, where different songwriters revisited some of their songs as prose rather than song lyrics. I liked the idea, so I thought I'd try a few as short stories. Where possible, I've added links to the actual song.  *** DIAMONDS & CADILLACS Years ago, a music publisher friend told me that my song "Diamonds & Cadillacs" would be what I'm remembered for. Quite a compliment coming from him, especially seeing how it was of zero financial benefit to him. I had to agree, in certain circles it's my best known and best loved song. Lots of the old rockabilly guys loved it. Sleepy La Beef, Alan Leatherwood, Charlie Feathers (who I originally had in mind to sing it), Mack Self (who declared it to be REAL ROCKABILLY!), and Hayden Thompson (who recorded a version for Blue Light Records) all loved it. It's one of those songs that just happened. I w...