I learned of the passing of Springfield, Missouri music legend Lou Whitney today. Ive been thinking about what to write about him all day. Lots of people, including Dave Stuckey and Dave Alvin have written well-spoken to the man who played bass and sang for the Skeletons, Morells, Symptoms, the Swingin Medallions--and who ran Column One recording studios in Springfield for decades (a place where I recorded The Untamed Youth Sophisticated International Playboys album back in 1990). Ive been remembering what it was like to come of age in the early 1980s in Missouri playing music. There were a LOT of bands around then. Most of them were college-rock bands, and they were VERY serious. Everything was urgent, angry, political. Frowns or pouting faces on all the band members. I watched all these bands and soaked it all in, but I didnt like the way it made me feel inside. That music just made me feel bad. Then, as a 14-or-15 year old kid, I stood outside The Blue Note club in Columbia, Missouri, and even though the windows had been blacked out, there was an area on one of the panes where the black paint had been scratched out on the inside, and if I stood on my tiptoes, I could see in and watch the bands. Richard King did you know that? Thats how I saw the Morells, must have been 1982 or 1983. Thats where I first saw the great Lou Whitney in action. Lou sang songs about hamburger joints, the teenage bill of rights, Bo Diddley, growin a beard, beatniks, girls, cars, and even sillier subjects. The entire time, he was joking, laughing, cutting up, egging on the band, heckling people in the audience--in general, the man was having a ball. The band was made up of superb musicians, including an amazing guitarist named Donnie Thompson (aka D. Clinton Thompson), who had obviously been playing for years, and who had finely honed their craft. This was back in the days when a band would come into town and do 3-or-4 nights in a row at the same club, 4 sets a night. No 45-minute showcase sets for these guys. These were working musicians. A real bar band. I had been on this brainwashing regimen until then that if you wanted to be in a band, you had to be young, good looking, and wear some really ridiculous looking current outfits (at that time--spandex or leather pants, or the full on Duran Duran-Haircut 100 new Romantic look). Even the Stray Cats, who I liked, were marketed as a boy band, with lots of eye makeup and earrings and teen appeal. Lou and the rest of the Morells were in their forties, wore jeans and t-shirts and tennis shoes, and in general--didnt give a damn about what any record company executive or music journalist thought about them. Lou was balding, sometimes the other guys wore shorts or oversize hawaiian shirts, and his wife Marilee was on keyboards, playing some atrocious sounding electronic Casio keyboard. The cool image factor was less than zero. None of this mattered. They were there to entertain, and to have fun, and to play their asses off, which they did better than any other band Ive seen before or since. The moment that I first saw the Morells through that little spot in the window I thought to myself--I like how this makes me feel. The music made you feel good. You couldnt help but have fun. Then Lou would crack some joke in between songs and youd laugh until your sides hurt. Nobody took themselves seriously. This became a profound influence on myself and my music career. I did not want to be in the next Human League or REM. I wanted to be like Lou and the Morells. Many times over the years, people have always asked me why I primarily write funny songs, and tell jokes and make people laugh at my shows. The truth is that it all goes back to admiring Lou Whitney and his ability to control an audience. He had funny songs, told jokes, cracked wise, and he had all those people eating out of his hand. I just liked how this made me feel inside, and I still do. (Another sorely missed pal of mine, Forrest Rose, played in my band and was much like Lou Whitney in his wise-cracking demeanor. Man, I miss Forrest) All these years later, I realize with Lous passing that through knowing him, watching him entertain, and absorbing his massive charisma, that I learned the ropes from him. Taking yourself too seriously in the music business is a fools game. Youll either get your heart broken, or get your ass handed to you in some typical industry swindle. Growing old playing music is not a crime. Entertaining people and making them laugh is not a crime. Trying to please the cool police is for followers, not leaders. And playing and producing music for fun and personal pleasure is a hell of a rewarding existence. For all those life lessons, I thank Mr. Lou Whitney. Maybe if I hadnt have written all those funny songs and told all those jokes, i could have been a huge rock star. But if I had, I wouldnt have become Deke Dickerson. This video for Reds was shot in 1982 and this is a poor quality transfer off an old VHS tape. It does give you an idea of what a gas these guys were, back in the day. Reds was a beat-up old diner in Springfield, Missouri, that they loved so much they wrote a song about and even featured on the cover of their 1982 album. A lot of us have known that Lou was going to be passing on to the next realm soon. Hes been in poor health for a while. It doesnt change the fact that without Lou Whitney, the world just got a LOT less entertaining. RIP Lou. youtube/watch?v=cfs-TFt96T0
Posted on: Wed, 08 Oct 2014 00:28:54 +0000
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