My father has drummed in bands since the 1960’s and while he currently resides his talents in a soul group (The Distraxshuns) that often changes attire and attitude to play more lively “gigs” as the energetic and entertaining “Funk De Ville”, I’ve often wondered what happened to all the local musicians in the now classic “rock n’ roll scene” of the 60's and 70's that performed in and around Memphis, Tennessee. It is no secret nor surprise that like the icons that inspired these players to pick up instruments in the first place; Paul McCartney, Jimmy Page, Dennis Elliot etc, these performers have aged. While this is a delicate subject for many, especially middle-aged men, this statement is not meant to be taken offensively. This is the mere state of things, as the craftsmen of culture and local music changes and ages so does the scene, and a great majority of it’s followers. The real question is, does the scene die out? I have been to the smokey, Sunday-afternoon forefront of this particular scene and observed it somewhat less intensively on separate occasions. My theory is that it has not “died’ but rather changed and adapted to fit the desires of those who really pay attention to it, and the “craftsmen” of sound I mentioned earlier have adapted to that.
On that Sunday-afternoon-forefront, September 23rd 2012, I rode with my dad to a benefit show Funk De Ville was performing at. “Is it cool if we stay past 11, the band I’m really interested in seeing plays then, it’s not gonna mess you up homework-wise is it?” If my father had said the name of such band I would of given him a questionable look, but it was not until I read the name of the last act performing upon the bill that my father would explain to me the history of Creed. As it were I rode oblivious to the slight confusion I would experience in deciphering why a Post-grunge 90's group, equally infamous as they are famous, would be playing at a rock n’ roll bar full of middle-aged attendees. Every scene needs one or two forefronts and between local chain Huey’s and the bar I would be very soon scoping out, Neil’s, the classic rock/hard rock etc Memphis “barband” scene, as I like to say, fulfilled that requirement.
As I stood within sight of the possible rock n’ roll mommies and daddies outside of Neil’s, I couldn’t help but feel slightly awkward. The unspoken presence and notion that “This is our place” lightly and unintentionally hovered above my thoughts and I internally braced myself for the possibility of quips like “Charley, you brought your kid? Now we have to behave!” followed by a red-faced chuckle and polite half-forced laughter from myself. I don’t recall such quips happening that night, nor do they really bother me, but it is something I’ve come to expect. They do erase some awkwardness between the obvious age-gap of myself to middle-aged musicians; men with more life experience than myself that I may relate to but never naturally pal around with on a regular basis. This would be to the exception of my godfather, Gary, who was standing and chatting next to a trailer to the back of the club my father and I strolled around to where he and other performers were conversing. His band “Work Release” performed shortly before we arrived.
What followed was the casual greeting of musicians to musicians; smiles and nods between laughter and the smell of the nearby club. One thing I have noticed among these subjects, middle-aged men, is that they value the handshake greatly. When my father would say “Oh, this ‘my son, Gus” I’d stick out my right hand, tilt my head slightly to the side with a warm grin, and say “Nice to meet ya”, or “Very nice to meet you too” depending on who initiated the greeting. Some of them I knew, members and ex-members of Funk De Ville, but some were new faces or faces of names I had heard my father speak of. That was their main topic of conversation it seemed; catching up on the lives of other local musicians by secondhand accounts and speaking of them either warmly or comically.
I wouldn’t call it gossip but the subjects had a way of standing and talking; inflecting hand movements and other actions that conveyed stories and laughable ideas to their musical peers that entertained their senses until they could play some music. “Oh wheres” -so and so-”why isn’t he here?”, “I don’t know man probably strung out on something” a chuckle emitted then after dying down, “No really though, Bob’s doin’ fine.” Solemn yet upbeat nodding followed. As words like “Groovy”, terminology originating from the 60's, were colorfully splashed about, the musicians talked about their instruments as well. Fleetus, a trombonist that plays along side my daddy, explained his bands method of turning laptops to the side to use as sheet music for the other horn players and how they once tried to use “foot-triggers” to turn the page. Yes, rock n’ roll, even to the “grown-ups” has gotten technological aspect of the live show. My Dad explained the use of the electronic “Wave-drum” to a tall, deep-voiced and long-white haired drummer who raised his eyebrow, snarled, and replied that all he needed was two sticks to bang on stuff with, to which the three of us laughed.
I’d like to take a moment to elaborate on the history of the musical group this man performed with. In 1978, Southern Creed released a self-titled album featuring the hit song “Firecracker” and followed it with an EP sometime later after changing their name to just “Creed”. Some years after the group split ways that floridian Pearl Jam-rip-off band must have thought it was a good name too and sources indicate that Memphis’ Creed was not happy about this. Nowadays “the original” Creed re-unites and plays once or twice a year, usually around Christmas-time, and benefits like the one for Pat Taylor at Neil’s that night. This is the history of the original, Memphis-based, Creed.
I could not tell if it was the slight sleep deprivation, or if they actually opened a gateway through time with their music, but watching Creed that night I believed in one simple truth; Creed was the center of the universe. I have never felt so much like I was in the 70s than watching the four members of Creed perform. Apart from their own material they played about two and a half Led Zeppelin songs off-the-cuff, as well as other notable rock n’ roll classics that emitted “WOO”s and general appreciation from what I saw as the “followers of the scene” in the bar. Although the members of the group seemed unprepared between songs, “Well...what do we play now?” , “Thanks for coming to Creed’s rehearsal before the Christmas show!” when they started a song with a thumping bass sound, a rhythmic definitely-70's-style-percussion-inspired fill, or a celestial tasty guitar chord and the creamy American classic rock Boston-style vocals kicked in, there was nothing else in the world except for the corner of Neil’s and Creed on that stage. It could have been 1978 or 2012. I wasn’t quite sure.
During Creed’s set my Dad’s friend Leo pulled us aside to listen to a Blues record he had played bass on with a group that they just released. I noticed I was more interested in the music he was showing us than I usually would have been. It was another corner of this “scene”, evidence of another child of the 70's still making music and producing it for an audience, somewhere. My theory is that although rock bands of this time period, or the members of them, don’t all tour and play in front of youthful audiences anymore, they have adapted to fit the needs or desires of the folks most likely to listen to them; Grown men and women in bars. The “barband” scene may exist because the rebellious teenagers of the 60's and 70's have settled down, become leaders in their own rights and have the option to re-engage in the sounds they first heard decades ago. If it’s in your heart it’s relevant, and whether one is part of a group of guys taking the time to load equipment in order play a benefit gig so that your old friend’s wife has a better shot at fighting cancer or one is sitting silently in a dark bar witnessing a cultural event that causes one to think and feel about what one is hearing; we cannot deny that music changes us. We change the scene. A leader of the scene recognizes this and changes for it, and that’s what these musical middle-aged men have done. There’s no shame in being part of a “barband” scene. There’s an audience out there, one whose been around and will keep coming back. Still more, there’s an entirely different one to inspire.
Show: Benefit for Pat Taylor Part 1 with Creed, John Kilzer, Funk De Ville and more @ Neil's on September 23rd, 2012.
