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...

  There is no greater skill than communication. Speech is communication. Writing is communication. Music and art are communication. A simple hand gesture, a wink, a smile, a nod - all communication. Our body language is communication. Every one of us has multiple ways to communicate. So, why don't we? I remember the time before the internet. I remember writing letters, phone calls - hell, passing hand-written notes in class! We seemed to place value on communication. It was exciting to receive a letter in the mail. Maybe a birthday card, or a love letter, or just correspondence with someone. I miss those days. I remember how expensive phone calls were. Growing up in Ohio, it was a toll call to phone my friends across the river in West Virginia. Once I could drive, it was cheaper to drive to see them than to call them. As a musician, I spent lots of money on phone bills booking shows, tracking down gear, scheduling studio time, etc. Now we have the world at our fingertips! So, what...

 That thing you do - you know that thing you love, that thing you're so passionate about, that thing that defines you - why do you do it? What purpose does it serve? Is it a mean to an end or is it something deeper?  I've always been a creative sort. Could well be genetic. My mum was an artist and musician. Dad could sketch well when/if he chose to. He had musical aptitude, but more in the sense of learning other people's music. I'm not sure if he ever had an original musical thought; but that's OK. Art and music weren't his passions.  I've always known that I wanted to work in the arts. As long as I can remember, that was my goal. As a kid, I wanted to be my generation's Vincent Price - until I had the chance to work in a few films. BORING! Hours and hours of standing around while the real stars of the show, the tech crews, made everything happen. I became interested in cameras and photography thanks to these uncredited legends. I'd ask questions, a...

Днес разговарях с приятел певец в Лондон. Играхме на догонялки, говорихме за семейството, живота като цяло и старите радиоапарати. Докато обсъждах остаряването и храненето на същества в парковете, споменах инцидент, който преживях в Хайд Парк в Лондон. Любопитството й се събуди, тя поиска и получи следната приказка. През 2002 г. трябваше да направя първото си задгранично турне. Няколко срещи в Обединеното кралство, уредени за мен от моя приятел 2-Tone. Това наистина беше преживяване за запомняне. Първото ми пътуване извън Северна Америка и за начало сам. Турнето в много отношения потвърди годините ми работа като музикант. Стоя или падам, трябва да го направя, защото някой смята, че определено съм достатъчно добър, за да го направя. Трябваше да прекарам 3+ седмици в Обединеното кралство, с последните ми няколко дни в Лондон, които бяха планирани като почивни дни/време за туристическо посещение! аз съм маниак. Винаги са били. Четох много Шерлок Холмс и друга британска литература като дет...