Many moons ago, Nora Guthrie, the daughter of legendary folk singer Woody Guthrie, found a shoebox full of her dad’s lyrics. British punk-folk musician Billy Bragg and the alt-country/Americana band Wilco agreed to put them to music, and an album called Mermaid Avenue was released in 1998 to much critical acclaim.
A couple of weekends ago, Billy Bragg and Wilco finally performed those songs live for the first time ever. You can check out the concert audio here — but note that it will only be available to stream until Thursday.
But that’s not why we’re here. We’re here for the forgotten genius of that era of the band Wilco. His name was Jay Bennett.
As is often the case with bands, there was an acrimonious split. Wilco founder Jeff Tweedy fired Jay.
Which is a shame, because Jay had so much to do with shaping and expanding Wilco’s sound during that era, as a multi-instrumentalist, and engineer, and producer.
According to friends and former band members (Wilco would not comment for this story), Bennett’s contributions helped transition the group from its ragged folk and country roots to the multidimensional pop that gave them critical and commercial flight. — From this 2009 Chicago Magazine article by Mark Guarino
He was part of three Wilco albums: Being There, Summerteeth, and Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. In my humble opinion, that was the best version of the band. And Jay doesn’t get enough credit. Quite to the contrary, he was portrayed as a bit of a villain in the Wilco-authorized movie I Am Trying to Break Your Heart.
It got ugly. Jay eventually sued Jeff for breach of contract. This was in May of 2009. Per Wikipedia: The suit came less than two weeks after Bennett publicly revealed that he needed hip replacement surgery which he could not afford due to his health insurance considering the situation a “pre-existing condition.
And then it just got sad. On May 24, 2009, Bennett died unexpectedly in his sleep… The Champaign County coroner reported about one month later that Bennett’s death was accidental, and was the result of an overdose of the prescription painkillerFentanyl.[12][13] He was wearing a Duragesic patch on his back when his body was found, said Champaign County Coroner Duane Northrup.
Jay needed something for the hip pain. It’s the same way Tom Petty – who did his last tour with a broken hip – died.
28 years after Mermaid Avenue, Jeff Tweedy gave a lovely shout-out to Jay from the stage.
“Jay Bennett was a huge part of all these songs… these songs wouldn’t be here without Jay… He was a big champion of this project… Continue to think about him and continue to remember him, please…”
It’s funny how life paths diverge. Jeff Tweedy has had sustained success for decades with Wilco. Jay Bennett died waiting for a surgery he couldn’t afford. I’m sure both Jeff and Jay wished things had ended differently, if not professionally then at least personally. But I’m glad Jeff paid tribute to Jay at the show. Giving credit where credit was due.
Woody Guthrie’s lyrics were lost for a long time, but finally came to life thanks in a large part to Jay. It’d be a shame if his contribution were lost to the mists of time.
“The great thing about the work that he did is that it’s there for others to hear forever.”
Ken Coomer, Wilco’s former drummer
If you really want to dig deeper, check out this Medium post and the Jay Bennett documentary below.
I know you’re probably tired of hearing me yammer about some tiny “modern rock” radio station where I worked long, long ago.
Heck, that station has been off the air for 22 years.
It’s so old that it’s now considered “historical.”
Give it a rest already!
But here’s the thing. This past Saturday, the Butler County Historical Society had a 97X “Back to the Future of Rock & Roll” event.
More than one hundred people paid their hard-earned cash to hear more about the station from several folks who worked there: Steve “Bakerman” Baker, Dave Tellmann, Matt Sledge, former student co-producer Jen Dalton (now at Channel 12), and yours truly.
But the Q&A segment at the end was the best part of it, and helps explain why people would cough up cash to attend a history lecture. Because there weren’t that many questions, but there were plenty of testimonials from people in attendance.
“Such a big part of my life.”
“My husband came to Oxford from North Carolina for a job interview, and we moved because he heard 97X.”
“I met my husband at the 97X 10th anniversary concert.”
“The station changed my life.”
“The station saved my life.”
The station’s listenership was tiny. But its impact on those listeners was mighty. The connection was so much stronger than the weak signal. Because we gave listeners what they wanted (music they couldn’t hear anywhere else) and what all of us need (a sense of community).
It meant a lot then. It means even more now that it’s gone.
Here’s a photo of all the 97X alums who were there.
Jen Dalton was an unpaid college intern. The rest of us got a paycheck, but it was below-poverty wages. Yet I wouldn’t trade my time there for a million dollars. Not then, and not now. The people I met during my time there (co-workers and listeners alike) were solid gold.
We loved the music. We had fun playing it. We had free rein creatively – not just live, but also for commercials and promos and contests. And best of all, we knew we were sharing it with people who cared.
Good luck getting anything close to that from cookie cutter corporate radio stations.
It’s why Dave Tellmann and I keep publishing new episodes of our podcast about the station. (Listening links are here.)
I was listening to a different podcast this week where Erykah Badu was quoted as saying you experience two deaths: once when you pass away, and then later when your name is spoken for the last time.
It’s been 16 years and we’re still saying “97X” (with or without the Rainman “BAM!”).
Last night, at the Woodward Theater, Tommy Stinson had some fun. And that was his primary goal. He said so from the stage. “We’re here to have fun… play some songs… and drink water.”
There were probably fewer than 100 people in the audience. Not always “fun” for a musician. Especially one who spent several years playing arenas as the bassist for Guns N’ Roses.
When I say Tommy’s been on stage his entire life, I’m only exaggerating ever so slightly. He started playing bass in a Minneapolis band with his older brother Bob and drummer Chris Mars when he wasn’t even a teenager yet. They added singer Paul Westerberg and became The Replacements, and Tommy was 13 when they played their first official gig in June of 1980.
Tommy and the ‘mats did their brilliant/belligerent thing for more than a decade before fully imploding. Imagine being a grizzled veteran of a defunct band and being a mere 24 years old. Not only that, but imagine being in a band that kicked out your older brother (Bob Stinson was forced out of the Replacements in ’86). That’s a lot to carry for someone so young.
Tommy then fronted a couple of bands, toured with GNR for six years, then Soul Asylum, in addition to putting out solo albums.
He’s spent 46 of his 59 years on stages, in recording studios, and on tour.
And he’s still having fun. He’s sober now, which no doubt helps. But it would be easy to be down about a paltry crowd on a Tuesday night in Cincinnati. Tommy wasn’t down… he was just down-to-earth. After an opening set from Karla Rose (check out her music here), he played several songs solo, then had a band (Tim Schweiger & the Middlemen) join him to rock out. Then Tim Schweiger & the Middlemen played their own set while Tommy hung out at the merch table, taking selfies, signing albums, and talking to fans, most of whom probably wanted to talk about his glory days with The Replacements. I’m sure he’s seen it all, and heard it all, before.
I talked to Tommy briefly. I was too starstruck to carry on for long. I grew up in rural Arkansas, where there was no underground music scene, no clubs, no “left of the dial” (to borrow a phrase from a Replacements song about the college radio stations that championed emerging artists). In 1987, my older brother sent me a cassette tape with a copy of The Replacements Tim album on one side and Pleased to Meet Me on the other. That truly changed my life. I loved those songs so much that I sought out a station I’d read about that played that type of music (97X in Oxford, Ohio). I wound up working there for several years, and have carried that “indie rock” spirit with me ever since.
All I could manage to spit out was “your music means a lot to me” and then said “thanks for continuing to tour” and he said “What else am I gonna do?”
The life of a touring musician is really all he’s known. But from his blue collar, everyman attitude, I think he also knows that life is what you make it. And to still be having fun is worth more than a dozen platinum records.
Friday night: Seeing my son Gabriel’s band The Collies play at a bar in Mt. Lookout.
Saturday during the day: working on a basement clean-up project.
Saturday night: Maggie Rose/Molly Tuttle concert in Lexington, KY with Gabriel. (MP Gannon rules!)
Sunday morning: kayaking with my friend Matt. His wife passed away back in February. Friday would’ve been her 50th birthday. I’m making an concerted effort to catch up with him on a regular basis. (I also organized a happy hour with some of our old co-workers a few weeks back.)
Sunday night: Built to Spill/Wussy concert at Ludlow Garage, with Gabriel and my daughter Leah. (First concert that we’ve gone to together!)
I’m not retired (yet!) but when the topic comes up in casual conversation (as it often does for people in my age bracket), some folks interrogate me with variations on these questions:
“But what will you do all day when you’re retired?” and
“Aren’t you afraid of getting bored?”
My answer to #1 is “more of the above” – more concerts, more time with my family (hmm, I probably should reverse the order of those two…), more home projects, more kayaking (and yes, more pickleball), more travel, more time with friends, more reading, more writing, more podcasting, and more of whatever the heck I want to do. (And yes, probably more naps.)
And my answer to #2 is an emphatic NO! I have waay too many interests for that to happen.
Right now I’m working for the weekend. I am starting to look forward to a permanent weekend. Especially if they’re like this past one!
On Saturday, I drove down to Lexington, KY with my oldest kid Gabriel to see an outdoor show at The Burl. (Great place to see a show, btw.)
It was a co-headlining tour, Maggie Rose and Molly Tuttle. I’d just seen Molly Tuttle a few weeks prior. And yes, I’ve been known to double down on artists I enjoy seeing. (Looking at you, Gladie.) But the real reason for the road trip was the guitarist for Maggie Rose’s band. MP Gannon. The dude’s an amazing guitar player.
And he has a fantastic, soulful voice to boot.
And I’d say that even if he weren’t my first cousin once removed.
But he IS my first cousin once removed, and that makes it even cooler! (I know him better as Michael Patrick.)
This doesn’t exactly qualify as a news bulletin, but I love music. And seeing my cousin’s kid up on stage, in front of a rapt audience, doing his thing… goosebumps the entire time! (I can only imagine how my cousin Patty and her husband Paul feel when they see their son on stage.)
In her set, Maggie performed a cover of “I Can’t Make You Love Me” — a ballad made famous by Bonnie Raitt*. If you’re gonna do that classic (or any Bonnie Raitt song, really), you’d better have the voice to back it up.
And Maggie does, in spades.
*that song was co-written by former Cincinnati Bengal defensive tackle Mike Reid, a two-time Pro Bowler whose songwriting career has far eclipsed his gridiron greatness.
Maggie recorded a duet version of “I Can’t Make You Love Me” song with Vince Gill. Which means MP has some pretty big shoes to fill in concert. TBH, I prefer his voice to Vince’s. And I’m not just saying that because he’s my first cousin once removed. (But, as previously established, he IS!)
Speaking o’ big shoes to fill, for Molly Tuttle’s encore, Maggie Rose and MP joined Molly’s band for rousing renditions of “She’s a Rainbow” by the Rolling Stones and “Up on Cripple Creek” by The Band. MP sang a verse of the latter – meaning he was channeling Levon Helm… merely my favorite member of one of my favorite bands. (Because Levon, the only non-Canadian member of The Band, was from my old stomping grounds of Arkansas.)
MP is based in Nashville. And as the Lovin’ Spoonful famously told us in their song “Nashville Cats”:
Well, there’s thirteen hundred and fifty two Guitar pickers in Nashville And they can pick more notes than the number of ants On a Tennessee ant hill
To snag a gig as a touring “guitar picker” is a big hill to climb. To become an integral part of Maggie Rose’s band in just a year with them is a testament to his talent, and his dedication to the craft.
A rockin’ house concert, for our family and 25 other folks – some of whom were friends, but most of whom were just friendly strangers.
That’s Jason Narducy playing to the crowd. He releases music as Split Single. He’s also the touring bassist for Superchunk, one of my favorite bands. Also bassist in the Bob Mould band (Bob’s another fave). And Jason teamed up with actor Michael Shannon to organize the R.E.M. tribute supergroup that I posted about a couple of months ago. Oh, and he wrote a book filled with some fun stories from his life on the road as a musician.
When he’s not touring as a “band guy” he does solo house concerts.
It’s not a glamorous existence, cramming all your gear into a rental car (in Jason’s case, a rental car with the “lane assist” function that he can’t figure out how to turn off) and driving hours upon hours to get to the next stop. And when you get there, setting up all that gear, hoping the host is a decent human being, and that your voice isn’t shot, and that the crowd isn’t dead.
It’s also not a lucrative endeavor. On a good night, you move the people with your music, and you move some merchandise too. Enough to pay the bills, and may put a few bills in your pocket.
From my biased perspective, I think last night was a great night. Jason’s a gifted musician, and a natural storyteller. And he’s a heck of a nice guy. As much as I love hearing music in an intimate setting, I probably enjoy the dead time before the show just as much. It was just Jason and I, hanging out in our kitchen. I won’t delude myself that we’re now besties. But it was good to get to know a bit more about him as a person, not just a performer.
Live music is my thing, but every house concert is a family affair. Peter helped me rearrange the furniture. Tina cleaned after my “cleaning” efforts fell short. Gabriel grabbed the pizza for Jason’s pre-show meal. Leah and Andrew kept the dogs upstairs when guests started arriving.
The show was stellar – mostly originals, with a few tasty covers (The Kinks, Superchunk, R.E.M… on mandolin!) in the mix. Great stories in-between.
We live on Wilaray Terrace and Jason jokingly called it “Wilaray Arena.” I love that. As long as I’m living, our living room will be open for business as Wilaray Arena. Because I’ll take a rockin’ living room over arena rock 100% of the time. Or in Jason’s case “95 Percent.”
Damian on The Future is forever: “It was a magical time for sure! Just don’t get any paint on that 97X sweatshirt, it’ll bring down the…” Jul 4, 20:44
Andrea J McKiernan on The Future is forever: “I still wear my 97X sweatshirt when I’m painting. I have some amazing memories of those times!” Jul 4, 14:46
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