Give ‘The Killer’ His Due

By ROB PATTERSON

I write this in the wake of the death of Jerry Lee Lewis. As rock’n’roll heroes go, he’s quite the problematic character for someone with progressive attitudes like myself.

Nonetheless, I rate him as the true king of rock’n’roll over Elvis. Yes, that’s akin to heresy. But Lewis kept “rocking his life away,” to adapt the title of a song he recorded, from his first recordings to not that long before his passing.

I don’t judge him as harshly as some did for marrying his 13-year-old cousin once removed when he was 22, sending his meteoric rise as a proto-rock star into a tailspin. Saying what follows isn’t to say I condone it (when I married at 25 I was still not yet emotionally mature enough to make it work), but in the small town and rural Southern culture Lewis grew up in, such unions were not uncommon. One can also find troublingly youthful marriages not just among the common people but the elite royals of yore using arranged marriages to strike power alliances. Thankfully here in America, our society has moved past such questionable archaic practices.

A Rolling Stone investigative article following the mysterious death of a later wife more than raised the possibility that Lewis may have murdered her, or at least contributed to the circumstances that led to her death. He was fond of gunplay and in 1976 shot his bass player in the stomach during a party for his birthday. Misogyny, violence and a head full of wild hairs marked the artist known as The Killer as an unreconstructed redneck hell raiser, all but inviting negative judgement.

Despite all that, I loved Jerry Lee. When entertainment talents are bad actors in how they live and/or do business, it can affect my liking for their art – something I’ve discussed before in this space. Jerry Lee is such a fountainhead of musical thrills, chills and wonders that his behavior simply cannot diminish all that for me.

It would take far more space than I have here to enumerate all the golden musical moments in his discography that bless me with deep aesthetic enjoyment, satisfaction and inspiration. So I’ll cite just one. Not the classic hits “Great Balls of Fire” or “Whole Lot of Shakin’ Going On” mentioned in every obit. Rather, his take on “Over The Rainbow,” just about as perfect a popular song that there is that I enjoy in many versions, first of all, Judy Garland, but also Rufus Wainwright, rebel UK folkie John Martyn and Hawaii’s Israel Kamakawiwoʻole, to only name some. But Jerry Lee’s take is my fave.

Lewis takes a somewhat laconic approach to the lyrics, singing them with a slightly world-weary yet assured reading, deftly edging into cool vocal maneuvers and flourishes with a tasty minimalism. With his trademark tone, it all adds up to say: Yep, The Killer has had a challenging life, yet he’s Zen about because he knows that there is a better, sweeter place over that rainbow.

His pianistics, through, are a thing of wonder in the song. He plays the melody and with the melody beautifully, sparingly tossing in as he sings one of the delicious glissandos he can coax from the keys. Then in the instrumental solo break, Lewis shows two of his hugest piano gifts, diametric to one another. He first plays just a judiciously chosen single note here and there for a few bars to keen effect. Then suddenly he summons up swirls and cascades or notes like flocks of the song’s bluebirds soaring, swirling and swooping in the sky.

Like a genuinely masterful singer and player, he made whatever he performed all his own, stamped it all with his creative signature. Every one of the eight of his shows I saw was distinctly different, musically alluring and entertaining well beyond the music.

My jazz crittic friend Will Friedwald wrote a stunning “singer’s biography” of Frank Sinatra that parsed every song Ol’ Blue Eyes recorded, “The Song Is You – The Singer’s Art.” The notion of doing the same for Lewis whets my interest; call it, say, “The Song Is His.”

So, on the sad occasion of The Killer’s death, what I wish readers to know is there is a rich and full catalog of Lewis’s recordings of rock’k’roll, country, popular songs, R&B and variations and combinations equal to any other contemporary musical giant: Bob Dylan, Duke Ellington, The Beatles, Miles Davis, whoever you may revere. He is gone, but this treasure trove remains.

I have no idea how all the bad acts in Lewis’s life add up on the karmic tote board in the afterlife. Raised in the thick of Southern Pentecostal religion, he often pondered the divine versus devilish aloud on stage, in the studio and in interviews. I hope in whatever afterlife there may be, after Jerry Lee pays due penance, he is rewarded for the humanly God-like musical gifts he leaves to us in this realm to savor.

Populist Picks

Book: “T Bone Burnett: A Life in Pursuit” by Lloyd Sachs – This smart and comprehensive bio of the superstar record producer known for gems like “O Brother, Where Art Thou?” and Robert Plant and Alison Krauss gives equal weight to Burnett’s long and fascinating journey towards success and his almost cult career as a songwriter/musical artist.

Documentary Film: “The Sound of 007” – Fans of the James Bond film franchise will greatly enjoy this look (on Amazon Prime) at how John Barry’s original score resonates throughout as well as the theme songs by a range of stars, which have become something of a cultural event.

Rob Patterson is a music and entertainment writer in Austin, Texas. Email robpatterson054@gmail.com.

From The Progressive Populist, December 1, 2022

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