The passage of time ultimately comes with the passing of friends and loved ones. It's the nature of things. We all die sometime. It's never easy to deal with for those left behind.
I'm not exactly young and I've definitely passed my share of caskets. It never gets easier.
Today I was informed of the death of my friend and one-time UK booking agent Mike "2 Tone" Russell. He was in his 70s and his health hadn't been great for some time but damn, you're just never really ready to hear it.
I can tell you lots of things about him. He loved 50s rock & roll. He loved rockabilly. He dug the whole old school Teddy Boy scene. He dug old cars. I doubt he loved anything as much as fishing for carp! (to those of us in the US, I know just how bizarre that sounds. No, he didn't eat them. In the UK, especially in Wales, carp fishing is all about catch & release. Very humane really.) He had a carp nemesis, Buster, who resided in a muddy pond just outside of Cardiff. Buster was a big ol' sumbitch and you had to be tough and crafty to land him. Mike did on a couple of occasions. I like to think Buster had the same respect for Mike that he had for Buster.
I could tell you lots of stories. Tales of his wild youth, our visit with 'the world's oldest hippie', loads of drinking stories, etc. I could tell you of the kindness he so often showed. He would hate me destroying his perceived tough guy image like that, so I'll try not to.
If Mike Russell did nothing else during his 70+ years, he completely changed MY life and its direction...simply by offering me a chance. Had it not been for him and his faith that the folks in the UK would like my music, I probably never would have toured overseas. Sure, I'd already toured most of the southern 48 and a few spots in Canada and Mexico but going across the pond is different. For starters, ya can't just drive there. As similar as people everywhere may be, going overseas, expecially for a musician, is a big deal. If it weren't for Mike, I probably never would have had the opportunity.
Let's face facts: I'm not everyone's cuppa. I'm a short, fat, (usually) loud guitar picker from Pittsburgh. I'm the least trendy person on the planet. Musically I don't fit anywhere. Too bluesy for rockabilly, too hillbilly for blues, and too damned loud/annoying/punk for the lot. My 2nd or 3rd show in the UK, I heard an old Ted refer to me as "too loud, too frantic" and my favorite, "practically punk!" (which was definitely not a compliment). I've had more than my share of oddball success but Lord only knows how or why. I've done thousands of shows, hundreds of hours of studio work, and pissed off more industry types than most will ever get the chance to. The 1st time I was offered a contract I actually read the damned thing. I flatly said NO, much to the chagrin of my bandmates. My writing, primitive as it is, was what was wanted. It was deemed to be of some commercial value and the company wanted control of it. Not a chunk of it. All of it. I've said NO to a number of different labels since then. I've had A&R and PR types try to get me to change my look, my sound, my hair. I had one guy tell me if I lost 30 pounds he could get me this and that. If memory serves, I spit beer on his shirt...but I digress.
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| RHOF 2001 |
I met Mike Russell at the 2nd annual Rockabilly Hall of Fame fest in Jackson, TN. He and his (then) wife June had made the trip to the states for the 3 day festival. I had been scheduled to perform with 2 acts. I ended up performing with all but maybe 2! It seems that no bass players managed to find the venue. Word got out that I could play. Every time I stepped off stage, I was stopped and asked if I could sit in with so & so. A bass would be handed to me and back up I went. Made for a long weekend.
During one of my few breaks, I was having a beer and this older, VERY rock & roll looking couple asked if they could join me. They told me they enjoyed my playing and were impressed that I was gigging with everyone. They were really surprised to find out I was just winging it. We had a few beers, and chatted until I was due back onstage. We chatted throughout the weekend and made plans to keep in touch. Mike really liked a song I played for him ("Diamonds & Cadillacs") and asked if I had a recording of it. I thought I'd recorded it but hadn't. I later released a live CD which included it, and there's where it all came together. We were both pretty new to the wonderful world of email back then but we managed to stay in touch.
Mike was a disc jockey. He had an occasional radio show, plus he DJ'ed at rock and roll clubs, concerts, festivals, etc. He played my stuff and folks seemed to like it. He started asking if I'd want to do some shows in the UK. I was thrilled at the idea but had lots of questions. This was not long after 9/11 so airfares were pretty low. It was still gonna cost a bit. Did he want me to bring the band? How many shows? How much were we gonna make? Did I need a work visa?
We decided to keep it simple. A handful of shows in England and Wales, different bands would back me, they (allegedly) would know my stuff (most didn't). I'd stay at Mike and June's house in Cardiff and it was like a crazy road trip with a wild aunt and uncle. I did shows in Wellingborough, Cardiff, Newport, Barry, and Cleethorpes. I got sick as a dog in London. I met a ton of people, made some good friends and good contacts and those few weeks completely changed the direction of my life. People in the states took me (slightly) more seriously. I started to get calls and emails from all over to do shows. Later that year we recorded the BACK FROM THE DEAD disc, headed to Australia and my world got crazier. I was playing to thousands a night. I still tried to balance living in both the 'normal' world and the musician world. By age 40, I was pretty literally falling apart from it...but I can tell you I wouldn't change a damned minute of it.
All of the blessings I've had in the past 20 years, I can trace them back to that crazy Welshman (ok, he was a Brummy but he'd tell you he was Welsh) taking an interest and offering me a chance. It's amazing what one person can do without even realizing it.
Rest easy my friend. You definitely earned it. I'm sure the ol' Staffie Mob was there to greet ya. You will be missed, as irritating as you could be. It was my honor and privilige to have known you and called you my friend. Gorffwys Mewn Heddwch!
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