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Music Music Features

Memphis Takes Manhattan

Looking out the window onto Broadway, Booker T. Jones seemed to be seeing New York on both that day of July 12, 2023, and the many days past when he frequented the area around Lincoln Center for the Performing Arts. “I would walk right through here,” he reminisced, speaking of his earliest trips to the city with the M.G.’s. “Our agent was on 57th. … We would stay at the Essex Hotel and walk past here on the way to Atlantic Records over on Broadway. And it made me question my age because I thought I remembered them building this Lincoln Center here, but I wouldn’t be that old,” he added with a wink and a grin. “I don’t think so.”

Truth be told, the David Rubenstein Atrium at Lincoln Center, where a packed house had gathered to hear WYXR’s own Jared “Jay B” Boyd interview Jones, had not even been built then. Jones’ memory was correct, however — the first building on the Lincoln Center campus opened in 1962, the same year that Booker T. & the M.G.’s became a household name with the hit “Green Onions.” Now, over 60 years later, Lincoln Center was hosting Booker T. Jones: A Career Retrospective to a rapt New York audience.

Yet there were more gripping things in store that day than hearing the world’s most famous organist’s stories, for the forum was a continuation of a multifaceted series of events dubbed City Soul on the Move, three days in July when Memphis held Manhattan in the palm of its hand.

SMA students in NYC. (Photo: Chris M. Junior)

It began, as so many things do, with Tom Hanks. The actor and director is passionate about his music and, it turns out, his radio. Rock ‘n’ Soul Ichiban, with DJ Debbie Daughtry on WFMU, was a longtime favorite of Hanks, and when Daughtry launched her own internet station, Boss Radio 66 on the Tune In app, he became a DJ for the station himself.

“He’s a huge fan of Booker T.,” Daughtry says of Hanks. “He said that he would love to interview him, and then it just kind of spiraled from there. But the date that we decided on was today, and Tom couldn’t be here.” Asking around for suggested interviewers during a visit to WYXR, Daughtry landed on Boyd, who’s interviewed Jones before at the Stax Museum of American Soul Music. And WYXR’s program manager rose to the occasion, his rapport with Jones only amplified by the fact that Boyd’s mother and Jones shared a piano teacher, Elmertha Cole.

Once the interview was locked in, Daughtry says, “Lincoln Center is the one that said, ‘Why don’t we get the Stax Music Academy [SMA] to come up and play?’ And my mind just exploded!”

With the interview and SMA performance as a centerpiece of Lincoln Center’s Summer for the City series, other Mempho-centric events materialized. The night before, renowned songwriter Greg Cartwright, host of WYXR’s Strange Mysterious Sounds, played a quiet but powerful acoustic set at Union Pool in Brooklyn, accompanied by longtime Reigning Sound keyboardist Dave Amels on harmonium. The stripped-down arrangements only made Cartwright’s songs more powerful, whether they were old recorded favorites like “Reptile Style” or the more subtle songs Cartwright has been writing recently. His encore solo performance of “She’s the Boss,” dedicated to the late Rachel Nagy of the Detroit Cobras, brought the house down. Meanwhile, that same night, Boyd was featured in a lively DJ set at BierWax NYC.

Shortly after Wednesday’s interview, Cartwright and Daughtry played DJ onstage in the Lincoln Center plaza as an audience gathered, several hundred strong, bursting with expatriate Memphians. When the show began, the SMA students handled themselves with a striking professionalism, especially when Jones sat down behind the organ and led the SMA Rhythm Section through some classic M.G.’s numbers. As the students played their parts with precision and passion, backing both Jones and charismatic SMA singers Pasley Thompson, Nicholas Dickerson, Rachael Walker, Khaylah Jones, and Joi Stubbs, Jones looked them over with an unmistakable wonder, the words he’d shared with Boyd earlier still echoing: “Right now I’m full of joy. I was moved by the music and the rehearsal. … They played so well. They didn’t play the music exactly like we did. They put their own twist to it. But it felt so good.”

Categories
Letter From The Editor Opinion

Road Trip to NYC

About 11 months ago, my wife and I became grandparents to twin boys. It was a joyous occasion, and we flew up to Brooklyn, where they live, just after their birth, last September. In the subsequent months, we flew back to Brooklyn twice, and the parents and their boys have made the trek to Memphis a couple of times.

That was mostly in the Before Times — before New York went through its horrendous bout with the coronavirus, and in the process, became the model for how states should handle the disease: Shut down non-essential businesses, issue a mask mandate, test relentlessly, trace infections to their source, and provide daily — honest — briefings from the chief executive.

A patio in Brooklyn

Once the epicenter for COVID-19 in this country, New York has now gotten its infection rate under control to a remarkable degree, and it’s obvious that the state has no intention of going back to the horrible days of late winter and early spring, when its hospitals and morgues were overwhelmed and bodies were being kept in refrigerated trucks. The state of New York has mandated that visitors from states with rising infection rates register with the state before they come and, once they get there, quarantine for 14 days or until they leave the state — whichever comes first. That would include visitors from Tennessee.

My wife and I had basically resigned ourselves to not seeing the newbies for a while. We didn’t want to chance flying, and taking a road trip, staying at motels, eating fast food, and then quarantining once we got there didn’t sound like much fun. Then, last week, there was a bit of a crisis: My step-daughter had just taken a new job with another law firm, and almost simultaneously their in-home daycare provider had a bike accident and couldn’t come to work for a few days. After hearing about how her daughter sat in her first Zoom meeting at her new firm with a squirming, crying baby on her lap, my wife went into Mama Lion mode: “We have to go up there and take over childcare for a week!” Yes, ma’am.

This was last Thursday. Fortunately, we’d both recently tested negative for the virus. The plan was to hit the road very early Saturday, drive all day, park in a rest stop in Virginia to sleep for a few hours, then drive into New York on Sunday. No fast food, no going into gas stations, no human contact. Friday evening, we packed a couple of suitcases, filled a large cooler with fizzy water, juice, fruit, sandwiches, cookies, chips, etc. and put it all in the back of the Subaru.

“We should probably try to go to sleep really early, so we can get up at the butt-crack of dawn,” I said. There was a moment of silence, then: “I’m too excited,” Tatine said. “I won’t be able to sleep tonight. Let’s just leave now.”

Realizing that this was no time for common sense, I just said “okay,” and we hit the road at 7 o’clock Friday night, not a particularly logical time to leave on an 18-hour road trip. But we found some great podcasts and drank a lot of coffee and energy drinks, and before we knew it, it was 3 a.m. and we were pulling into a rest stop parking lot in Bristol, Virginia. After three hours of restless sleep in reclined seats, we hit the road again.

We had it down to an art: If we needed a “rest stop,” we looked for exits with no signs for gas or food and drove to a farm road or quiet spot. If we got hungry or thirsty, we hit the cooler. We were road warriors. By Saturday morning, I was driving like water through a garden hose, sluicing through the hills of Virginia, Maryland, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and finally, the Holland Tunnel into the city.

New York City has changed. While working our way through modest traffic across Manhattan, we saw maybe two people without masks. Pedestrians, joggers, cyclists, sidewalk cafe diners, skateboarders, scooter-riders, cops, taxi drivers, dog-walkers, baby buggy pushers — everyone was masked. It was the same in Brooklyn. New Yorkers aren’t messing around with this thing. There’s a lesson here, and we need to pay attention.

I’m writing this from the sunny back patio of my step-daughter’s ground floor apartment. I can hear the sounds of the city around me, but because of the patio walls, I can’t see much … except maybe the future.

I think I have to go change a diaper now.

Bruce VanWyngarden brucev@memphisflyer.com

Categories
Fly On The Wall Blog Opinion

Watch New Yorkers React to News of Elvis’ Death

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With Death Week looming on the horizon more and more Elvis-related content is pouring into my news feeds. This post at The Gothamist includes one of the most soulless Elvis-related interviews ever and conversations with New Yorkers who seem less sad about Elvis’ passing than disappointed by “the waste” of all the people who’d waited in line to buy Elvis concert tickets. My favorite part is just how much the older male anchor doesn’t seem to care. Following the man-on-the-street interviews he says, “Well, I think we’ve done that.”

You can check out the whole post here.

Categories
Music Music Features

Hell on Himself

Prolific is the type of word reserved for someone like Richard Hell. Born Richard Meyers, Hell dropped out of high school and moved to New York at the age of 17, had his poems published by Rolling Stone and New Directions before he was 21, then grew tired of the whole aspiring-writer thing and became one of the founders of the New York punk scene.

After putting down the typewriter and picking up the bass, Hell played some of the first punk shows on the CBGB stage and released iconic records with his bands the Neon Boys (later Television), the Heartbreakers (featuring Johnny Thunders and Jerry Nolan), and finally Richard Hell and the Voidoids. Hell isn’t on tour supporting his new autobiography, I Dreamed I Was a Very Clean Tramp, but he will be speaking and doing a book signing at the Brooks Museum of Art this Thursday evening. The Flyer caught up with him to ask some questions about his latest project.

Memphis Flyer: You started writing the autobiography in 2006. How did you approach writing it, did you turn to old journals or is it mostly from memory?
Richard Hell: I am lucky that I have a lot of background material to reference. Not only was I publishing writing as a teenager but there was a fair amount of coverage in magazines and papers that was really useful. Plus my mother is a pack rat; she’s kept boxes and boxes of things from my childhood. The homemade pamphlet from when I was eight years that supplied the title for the book came from her. I’m almost neurotically serious about being as accurate as I possibly can, and since the publication of the book I’ve discovered one or two things I’ve got wrong and I fixed them for the paperback. As far as the process of writing, I just winged it and went with the flow. When it came to me reaching back to the earliest days, there was no system or organization, I just trusted that the stuff that I remembered would be relevant.


Was there anything that you’d forgotten that came back to you once you started writing?

It’s always cool to get a flash of recollection of something really vivid that you hadn’t remembered, no matter what it is. When you write something like this you realize that you do kind of just naturally create this narrative of your life as you go along. You know how when you’re first starting to fall in love or something like that, you and the person you’re falling in love with tend to gradually reveal to each other the stories of your past and your life? It was like that. Things you’re proud of, or find amusing, or sometimes ashamed of, they all get revealed when you become close to someone. There’s this whole repertoire of the things that you’ve been through that you remember gradually.

So if you moved to New York City to be a writer, when and why did you pick up the bass?
It was a conjunction of things. When I came to New York at 17 I started to get frustrated, it just seemed really isolated, there wasn’t much audience for young writers. It’s a specialized acquired taste, poetry. It washard to imagine where (being a writer) would lead because I didn’t like having jobs, I sure didn’t want to go to school, and I didn’t want to become a teacher even if I did qualify. I just couldn’t see how to make my life as a poet work, and I wanted my work to be my life. I wanted it to be interchangeable, and at the same time my best friend (>>>>>)was an aspiring professional musician, he was in a similar position and didn’t know where to get started. But anyway, this was when the New York Dolls were just starting, they were an example of these kids who just decided to put themselves out there. They felt like they were just being themselves, not adhering to a pre-established audience, and they were really popular but not about being commercial. They served as an example of how it was possible to get out there and do what excited you and make it work. All of those things taken into account, we got the idea to start a band and so I picked up a bass and started coming up with a way to express how things looked to us in songs, using whatever writing skills I had already developed.


There’s been a lot of talk that most of what’s published in the book on NYC punk Please Kill Me is either embellished or just completely made up. What’s your take on that book?

There’s a lot of like inaccuracy, some of which coming from people twisting stories to serve their own purpose. There’s no fact checking. That being said, being true to the spirit of what went on, in terms of just conveying what it was like it to be there, it’s by far the best picture and the most accurate. There are specific things that aren’t true, overall the whole impression of what went down is really on the mark. I like the book, there are a lot of books about that time and place that are just silly and stupid, and they get credence and stuff gets perpetuated in the press that is just wrong, but Please Kill Me is a great book.


Did you see your autobiography as a way to give a different take on what those parts of your life were really like?

Not really, it came very low on the list of my incentives to write the book. It was good to have the chance here and there to correct false stories that had been distorted and had been reported. The main reason I wrote the book was because I was curious to see what it would add up to if I put this whole sequence side by side. I wanted to see what the picture ended up looking like; I wanted to find out for myself. At any moment you have this perception of who you are and what you’ve been through, you have this vague idea of what the whole picture is like but it just happens in little fragments moment to moment. I wanted to see what it looked like if I made it all into one object.

How is writing different for you, does it provide a spark that playing music didn’t?
I mean the thing for me about writing is that it’s a relief from life and music. Music entails all this other peripheral stuff, touring and being a public figure and having to make a lot of money. It’s not easy to survive as a writer but it’s sure not as expensive as making records. I mean you’ve gotta be conscience of your popularity all the time in music. There are a lot more peripheral demands in music. The thing that I really liked about music was making records, writing songs and making records, but there is so much else you have to do, including feeding all these mouths. It’s not just expensive to finance a music career, you have to work really hard to sell a lot of records to make it feasible. Writing is so much simpler; I’ve always loved writing and loved books. It wasn’t much of a sacrifice to move on, I do sometimes get wistful about all the songs I could have written, but I don’t really have any regrets.

How difficult was it writing an autobiography compared to the works of fiction that you’ve published? Was there anything that was intentionally left out?
Well in some ways it was easier because I had all the material, I didn’t have to wonder where things were going. But that’s the fun part of writing fiction is surprising yourself every day with where the story goes. The main difference is the weird challenges and problems created by writing about yourself. You have to be conscience of the temptations of anyone who has written an autobiography, to have everything you write be self-serving. But at the same time I didn’t want to misrepresent myself, I mean yeah I’m pretty egotistical so I didn’t want to be falsely humble but at the same time I didn’t want to misrepresent anything that happened, so that got a little tricky. It’s interesting to see the responses to the book, the way people react to what I wrote, but I basically feel like I pulled it off. I’m satisfied with how I dealt with that problem. I think the book is a fair representation of what happened and who I am. I said a lot of ugly things, one odd thing is that people sometimes talk about what I creep I am. Maybe not that word but it boils down to that, sometimes people actually do say creep, but often enough people don’t take into account that I chose what to say. They say that I am a creep because I’m calling myself a creep. It’s not that I’m calling myself ugly but I chose to say those things and to reveal those things about myself. I could have done it differently.


Do you think that people who don’t know you as someone who shaped American punk rock will still enjoy the book?

I will flatter myself and say that the ones who are literally minded will enjoy it, I think it’s a good book (laughs). Part of the motivation was to describe what a life like mine was like, what it was like to be an aspiring young artist in NYC in the 70s. A lot of the great works in history are about the young person coming to the city to create their life. It’s an inherently interesting subject. It is almost just incidental that it has to with music. I don’t even pick up the guitar until a third way through the book.


In the book you talk about how the Sex Pistols owe more than a little to you for your look that they adopted through there manager Malcolm McLaren. What are the differences between a statement like “I belong to the blank generation” as opposed to “Anarchy in the UK.”

I don’t really think about either of those things, I wrote that song and I put it out into the world, But I don’t really know how to answer because I’m not a student of the Sex Pistols.
Are you a fan of any rock and roll memoirs or autobiographies by musicians? Is there anyone from that New York Scene that you think needs to write a book?
I think please kill me is the best book easily. It’s true there are a lot of mistakes on it, I disagree with a lot of the emphasis, certain people get more attention than what is warranted, but still it’s by far the best if you’re looking for a fan literature.

An Evening With Richard Hell

Memphis Brooks Museum of Art

Thursday, October 17th, 7 p.m.

$6 museum members/$8 nonmembers

Categories
Sports Sports Feature

Basketball Tigers To Take On Big Apple Tourneys

Still more than two months till college basketball season tips off? Posh, says SI.com’s Luke Winn. In his latest blog, Winn ranks the upcoming tournaments that help shape the college hoop season. And the Memphis Tigers just happen to be scheduled to play in the top two.

Writes Winn, “New York is not necessarily the best place for a college basketball writer (like myself) to live during January, February, and March. …

“In November and December, however, a wonderful phenomenon occurs: the best of college hoops simply comes to us in Manhattan. I spent this morning — once I finished my last college football preview piece, that is — looking through hoops schedules with the intention of returning to regular blogging. And I’ve come to the pleasant realization that the top three early-season events are all at Madison Square Garden, just a short subway ride away.”

Read more at SI.com.