Brushes with the Famous - Jeff Tweedy

I think I've maybe told this story 25 times. At least.

Some of you may know who Jeff Tweedy is, others may not. Back in the early 90's, there was this band out of Belleville, Illinois called Uncle Tupelo. Belleville is actually a suburb of St. Louis. Uncle Tupelo is given credit for starting the whole "Alternative Country" or "No Depression" music genre. Even though people like Gram Parsons and other people were doing this before them, they were the band that caught people's attention and started the very limited spark that was "Alt Country."

I actually saw Uncle Tupelo in Ames when they just had the "No Depression" CD , their first, out. My friend, Brian Buhman told me, "If you like the Gear Daddies, then check these guys out." I maybe listened to the CD 10 times before the band showed up at People's Bar & Grill on the first Thursday night before spring classes began. People's was serving up $2 mix drinks in quart Mason jars. Is that ever a good idea? I got a whiskey and coke and was able to actually play a few games of pool with the band before the show. I was bumming Mike Heidorn's Marlboro reds.

After the show, we ended up going to Perkins for a meal. I remember jabbering too much as I usually do. They crashed at Buhman's house. They brought the case of Leinenkugels with them that they got from People's. Their heater had just broken, and this was January. We sat around the house at 2 or 3 in the morning playing acoustic guitars. I picked it up and played "Dust in the Wind." Tweedy said, "Dude, I think I'm all dust in the winded-out." Brian Hennemen, who would go on to lead the Bottle Rockets, was touring with them. In the morning, they were gone. They left the Leinenkugels.

The second time I hung out with these guys was on their last tour. Although at the time, no one knew it was their last tour. They played at the M-Shop, which was actually a smaller venue than People's. They came over to the same group of friend's house, only it was in a different location (renting in college, you know). They were more than a 3-piece by this time. John Stirrat had joined and was playing bass. As everyone showed up, I sort of stood back and watched the dynamics. Most everyone in the band was drinking beer. They had brought the case of Old Style that the M-Shop gave them. Jay Farrar, who went on to form Son Volt, was in the corner nursing an Old Style and talking quietly with a roadie of the band. I told him something like, "Thanks for playing Whiskey Bottle during the encore, it's one of my favorites." He said something like, "I sort of messed up the words in the second verse." I knew that he did, but that's show business.

Tweedy comes in and he heads straight for the sink and gets a water. I see this and look at Stirrat and ask, "Do some members of the band not drink?" He says, "Some of us don't," and takes a swig out of his bottle of Old Style.

This is where it gets good...or annoying if you're Jeff Tweedy. I start asking him questions about different lyrics of his songs. I can't be sure what I asked him now. After about the 3rd question, he asks, "Are you going to interview me all night?" I sort of crack a smile and two of my friends, Andy Strom and Eric "Smoke" Smith chime in with, "No, you gotta understand, we've been talking about this stuff for the longest time, and you're the guy who can answer it." Jeff sort of shrugs his shoulders and I think he's left alone for about five minutes.

I didn't talk to him or really anyone else for the rest of the "after-the-show" party. My friends practiced with their friends in that house, and I think they got at least 2 members of the band to jam with them until the neighbors upstairs called the cops. As we were leaving, the band was leaving, too, and Jeff apologized to me for being agitated. I just grinned and shook my head. I said, "It's okay, Jeff, I know how I am." He smiled and nodded. Not sure he expected that kind of response.

Think about it. These guys get accosted by fans every day, and I'll bet you they answer the same questions over and over. Even if they were to post information on their website that would answer these questions, you're still going to get the occasional person that doesn't read it. Think if people did that in your job. It would get annoying really quick.

What's funny, however, is that in Golden Smog, a side project many musicians from about 3 other bands are involved in, including the Jayhawks and Soul Asylum, Tweedy wrote a song called, "I Can't Keep From Talking." Which, when I interpret it for myself, is kind of about annoying people like me, with the final verse being about his feelings for those who ask. You can get this off of iTunes, if you so care to.

I Can't Keep From Talking

Hey ain't it great for us to be alive
I've been lying in wait for you to come outside
I know you don't know me but I know a lot about you
You're the one who knows me better than I do

When I get back home, I'm gonna put your records on
I play 'em way too loud and I'll sing along
I know all the words to every song and I don't really care
But tonight you sang one wrong

And I can't keep from talking
I can't keep from talking about you
And I just wanted to thank you
Thank you for doing what you do

I wanted to tell the world a little bit about myself
Realize my feelings and put them on a shelf
Then jump out the window so you'd all know what it's about
'Cause I can't be there to help you figure it out

Define Your Life in a Song

Yesterday, my wife asked me over coffee if I could choose one song to define my life, what would it be.

This just made me laugh, because at any given moment, I'm hearing music in my head. My niece once said, "You could say the word 'the' and Jesse would come out with some song that referred to it." So for me to sum it all up with one tune would be pretty unlikely.

Then, as I was checking my email, the daily digest of Drive-By Trucker messages was discussing the new Wilco album that is coming out. Some people said that they did not enjoy the latest Wilco studio release, "A Ghost Is Born." While I agree that there are some songs on there that are grating to me, there are some good ones as well. But my favorite, by far, is the 2nd tune on the disc, "Hell is Chrome."

"Hell is Chrome" is probably one of the greatest songs (not just Wilco songs) ever written. Those lyrics are pure poetry. And I usually don't like poetry as lyrics, but in this case, the meaning is perfect to me.

When the devil came
He was not red
He was chrome and he said
Come with me

The first time that song meant something to me, I had just done a job interview in central Illinois and was driving into a Wal Mart parking lot in Mt. Zion, which is a southwestern suburb of Decatur. At the time, I had been living in Arkansas, pretty much dreading the job and the community of Arkadelphia (known to some as Arka-do nothing). It was September 2004, so the weather was starting to get the chill in the air, but you could still make it without a jacket. I was reminded again of why I missed living in the midwest.

I have a better handle on that part of the country now (if you're going to live in Illinois, live closer to Chicago, or if you can help it, north of I-80) and wouldn't really recommend central Illinois to anyone. But after living in the south for 8 years, it was nice to actually feel the fall weather coming.

The air was crisp
Like sunny late winter days
A springtime yawning high in the haze
And I felt like I belonged
Come with me

When I got the job in Shelbyville, I didn't realize how fucked up that place was. I was really going to try to stay at that job for as long as I could. We lived in a small town in the south, and I figured living in a small town in the midwest would be just as good, especially since Mattoon was twice the size of Arkadelphia. But the stress of that job was just draining the life force out of me. Nothing like a call at 3:00 a.m. to let you know that someone went to the hospital. Up and at 'em. Gotta go write the investigation and then deal with the fallout.

Despite that fact, the guy who had the job before me was such a monster that after about 6 months, people felt like they could talk to me, and I felt like I was appreciated.

I was welcomed
With open arms
I received so much help in every way
I felt no fear
I felt no fear

After a year and almost 6 months, I found my current job which is a lot less stressful. It is challenging, but now that I've been here just over a year, I am getting more control over the day-to-day stuff and am making progress. The nice thing is that the song carried over with me. We go to Chicago, and every time I'm downtown among the towers of the city, I feel peaceful, and I'm in awe. The song is overwhelming in my head.

You must go
So I went
Where everything was clean
So precise and towering

I think the city of Chicago is the cleanest big city I've been in. The thing that I think makes me so loyal to it, however, is the fact that I'm from Iowa, the midwest, and it's a sense of pride, I guess. It's sort of cheesey, I know. But I've moved to a lot of different places in my life, and now that I'm back in the midwest, close to Chicago, but without having to deal with the day-to-day traffic, I'm really happy.

The final thing I like about the song is that it involves the devil, which is kind of cool in a Ronnie James Dio sorta way.

Apologies to Jeff Tweedy for restructuring the verse order to make it fit my blog.