“When they look back on me, I want them to remember me not for all my wives, although I’ve had a few, and certainly not for any mansions, or high-living money I made and spent. I want them to remember me simply for my music.” — Jerry Lee Lewis
Its a bit grainy, that mid-50s black and white video featuring a mad man at the grand piano. Backed only by the sparse sound of upright bass and streamlined drum kit, the mono mix nonetheless sounds like a full marching band on meth. Until the wild child and backing players bring down the volume for effect, then blow the roof off talk show host Steve Allen’s studio with two final choruses that could wake the dead.
Sporadic episodes of drug-addled performances notwithstanding, the mercurial showman Jerry Lee Lewis spent the bulk of his 70-year career growling at mics and pounding pianos just like those in Allen’s TV lair . Even the ballads had an edge — some emotional timeouts for his audiences before launching into the next roof raiser on the playlist.
“Killer” died in late October, age 87. Critics rightly point out his catalog of originals is thin compared with other vanguard White rockers and rockabillies; yet his ability to interpret existing pieces (most famously “Great Balls of Fire” and “Whole Lotta Shakin’ Goin’ On”) was instinctive and anticipated the moment.
Lewis’ annals are well-documented, some onstage (he burned a piano, because he was booked as an opening, not headline act) others away from the lights: roots in southern working class and evangelical Christianity; marriage to his underage second cousin Myra Williams (while himself already married); addiction to alcohol and pills; connections with Elvis, Johnny Cash, Carl Perkins and Sun Records owner Sam Phillips; IRS debts; multiple irresponsible relationships with women; series of deaths among family and friends.
Careerwise, Lewis’ star was rising by the time he made that 1957 appearance on Steve Allen. His records were beginning to sell, his venues were becoming larger. But his marriage to Myra Williams soured the record buyers and the venue managers. Even small scale gigs were now hard to come by, so he began modest tours of Europe.
Lewis was able to land a few minor record deals thereafter — and remained in demand among younger artists as a special live guest — but relatively little was heard about him before or after the release of the 1989 biopic, “Great Balls of Fire”. The film performed well at the box office, but Lewis publicly denied most of its content, especially his portrayed volatility, cruelty and unaddressed mental illness.
No matter where the truth lies in the film, Lewis’ is the definition of what passes for a “complicated legacy.” Written between the lines of a career gone amuck are multiple incidents of predatory behavior with minors (plural), sustained spousal violence/rape, child abuse and drug trafficking. Lewis was twice cited for tax evasion, resulting in the seizure of his family’s entire home and possessions. He was an avid supporter of racist southern political candidates, including Alabama governor George Wallace. And citing Lewis’ respect within the deep-red corner of the Republican Party, Trump last month offered his usual full-throated, name-drop praise for a fellow partisan: “Jerry Lee Lewis was beloved by everyone, a real bundle of talent, energy, and everything else necessary to be a star …”
Reflecting on Lewis’ life and career, immensely famous and talented people come off the rails all the time, some forever and some for good reason. They just do. But not every lost celebrity decides to spread the pain in the same measure. And not every set of behaviors should be dismissed under the phrase a “complicated legacy”.
Lewis’ musicianship and contributions to the seminal stages of at least two music genres are what they are: Amazing and unique. Yet Lewis’ documented choices to devastate others’ lives along the way — then deny accountability on the record — wasn’t “complicated”. It was just wrong.
Don Rollins is a Unitarian Universalist minister in Jackson, Ohio. Email donaldl rollins@gmail.com.
From The Progressive Populist, December 1, 2022
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