Outlaw Country: 12 Badass Items at Country Hall of Fame
From Willie Nelson’s well-worn sneakers to Bobby Bare’s mink-skull hat - the must-see memorabilia at the Outlaws & Armadillos: Country’s Roaring 70s exhibit
Waylon Jennings, Willie Nelson, and other key figures of the Outlaw movement are spotlighted in the new 'Outlaws & Armadillos' exhibit at the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum in Nashville.
The Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum in Nashville follows the wild success of its Dylan, Cash, and the Nashville Cats exhibit with a deep dive into the Outlaw country era.
Opening May 25th and running for nearly three years, Outlaws & Armadillos: Country’s Roaring ’70s traces the origins of the movement, beginning with Bobby Bare’s game-changing 1973 album Lullabyes, Legends and Lies through the rise of Waylon, Willie, and the boys.
A full multimedia experience, the exhibit features essays on little-known but integral figures, like college football coach Darrell Roy, new video packages – including a can’t-miss history of the Armadillo World Headquarters in Austin – and a cache of memorabilia from Willie Nelson, Waylon Jennings, Townes Van Zandt, and more.
Ahead of Outlaws & Armadillos‘ opening to the public, Rolling Stone Country toured the showcase to assemble this list of must-see artifacts. (Photos by Jordan ’Donnell.)
Jordan 'Donnell
Kris Kristofferson’s Army Shirt
Kris Kristofferson’s résumé is one of country music’s most eclectic. The Renaissance Man was a janitor, a boxer, and a helicopter pilot before becoming one of the genre’s most celebrated songwriters. While Kristofferson, like his longtime friend Johnny Cash, favored black in his manner of dress, he once sported Army green as a captain and Airborne Ranger.
This government-issued utility shirt, with his name above the right breast pocket, is on display next to another artifact from Kristofferson’s storied history: the lobby card for Sam Peckinpah’s Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid, in which he starred as the titular gunslinger.
Jordan 'Donnell
Willie Nelson’s Sneakers and Bandana
The Red Headed Stranger is well-represented in Outlaws & Armadillos, but don’t expect to find some pair of Texas shit-kickers. Rather, Nelson favored more manly footwear throughout the Seventies: these comfy blue sneakersnodded to his hippie ways and affinity for running and biking.
One of his iconic bandannas is also on display (blue, not the more closely associated red), along with a hat made for him in Austin that features his initials on the band.
Jordan 'Donnell
Waylon Jennings Archival Photos
Not all of the must-see items in the exhibit are three-dimensional. These rare photos of Waylon Jennings adorn a wall adjacent a case dedicated mainly to Jennings, Willie Nelson and Jessi Colter.
A series of candids, they depict the seminal outlaw, wide-eyed and in full badass getup: black hat, black boots, leather vest, cigarette in hand.
The photographs are from the personal collection of Rolling Stone writer and Seventies outlaw confidante Chet Flippo, who died in 2013.
Jordan 'Donnell
Jessi Colter’s Suede Dress
The influence of the first lady of outlaw country, Jessi Colter, is felt throughout the exhibit in interviews, photos and in two distinct fashions.
She sported this suede blouse and skirt on the cover ofThat’s the Way a Cowboy Rocks and Rolls, her 1978 album produced by husband Waylon Jennings and longtime drummer Richie Albright. The dress she wore for the eye-catching album art to her 1975 LPI’m Jessi Colteris also on display.
Jordan 'Donnell
Rev. Will . Campbell’s Whiskey Still
The Rev. Will . Campbell may not be a recognizable name to most country music fans, but the self-christened “bootleg preacher” played a key role in the Outlaw era. He was a frequent ear, adviser and drinking buddy to artists from Kris Kristofferson to Waylon Jennings, who, according to the exhibit, referred to him as his “guru.” (Jennings even had him baptize his son with Jessi Colter, Shooter Jennings.)
This copper still was used by Campbell and songwriter Tom T. Hall to make their own whiskey.
Jordan 'Donnell
Armadillo Suitcase
One of the highlights of the exhibit – and where it gets half of its name – is the story of the Armadillo World Headquarters, the Austin country-rock outpost that helped foster the Outlaw mindset and music.
Artist manager Eddie Wilson co-founded the club and carried around this leather armadillo-adorned briefcase, whose varmint logo was designed by Jim Franklin. Franklin’s psychedelic posters, including one that announced Willie Nelson’s first ever gig at the venue (for a cover charge of a mere two bucks), were a signature of the scene.
Jordan 'Donnell
Bobby Bare’s Mink-Skull Hat
When Bobby Bare recorded 1973’s Bobby Bare Sings Lullabyes, Legends and Lies, a concept record of Shel Silverstein compositions, he picked his own players and produced the album himself. Both were no-no’s in Music City at the time, but the album was a success, refreshing Bare’s career and giving him a hit with the voodoo queen Number One “Marie Laveau.”
The greater impact, however, was how the double-LP emboldened other artists, like Willie Nelson and Waylon Jennings, to push for their own creative freedom in the studio. This outrageous hat, adorned with a mink skull and snake skin, was a gift from Nelson to Bare.
Jordan 'Donnell
Cowboy Jack Clement’s Guitar
The Outlaws & Armadillos showcase has a number of important guitars in its collection, but few as impactful as this 1952 Gibson SJ-200, owned by Cowboy Jack Clement. It was the lifelong guitar of the producer, songwriter, artist and bon vivant, who played it on two of Johnny Cash’s most well-known hits: “Ring of Fire” and “Big River.” He also used the instrument to write “Let’s All Help the Cowboys (Sing the Blues),” a song recorded by Waylon Jennings for his 1975 LP Dreaming My Dreams.
Jordan 'Donnell
Doug Sahm’s Child-Star Western Costume
Long before he got psychedelic with the Sir Douglas Quintet, Doug Sahm was a cute and uber-talented child star of the 1950s. Performing as “Little Doug Sahm,” the San Antonio native captivated audiences with his skill on the steel guitar, mandolin and fiddle. His triple-neck steel, built in the Forties, is on display – as is this pint-sized Western suit made for Sahm by his mother.
Jordan 'Donnell
Paul English’s “Devil” Cape
While Willie Nelson may have spilled the beans on the troublemaking ways of his longtime drummer Paul English in the 1971 song “Me and Paul,” the percussionist got his nickname “The Devil” more for the way he looked. Sharp sideburns, red leather boots with silver tips and this ornate velvet cape had English, who still plays with Nelson today, cementing his look as both a demon and a dandy. (The adjacent satin “On the Road Again” jacket was worn onstage by Nelson guitarist Jody Payne, who died in 2013.)
Jordan 'Donnell
Guy Clark’s Father’s Randall Knife
“My father had a Randall knife / my mother gave it to him / when he went off to WWII / to save us all from ruin” sing-speaks Guy Clark in the intro to his song “The Randall Knife,” off 1983’s Better Days. This is that knife, gifted to Clark’s dad by his mother prior to his shipping out for World War II. But the more personal bit of Clark memorabilia may be the original painting by Guy’s wife Susanna Clark, which graces the cover of the songwriter’s 1975 Old No. 1 album.
Jordan 'Donnell
Mickey Raphael’s Handmade Harmonica Case
Aside from his trusty Martin guitar, there is no more essential element to Willie Nelson’s signature sound than Mickey Raphael. The harmonica player has been standing next to Nelson since 1973, adding subtle accents in the studio and onstage with the Family Band. Raphael’s dad built this simple wooden case to hold his harps, which is on display next to a much more expensive (but arguably no more valuable) piece of Raphael’s history: a gold “Willie Nelson” ring with diamonds he wears onstage.
Is it possible to be speechless and overcome with racing thoughts at the same time? That’s what it feels like to write about David Bowie right now, who died yesterday after an 18-month battle with cancer, two days after turning 69 and releasing his final studio album Blackstar to universal acclaim. How can you pay tribute to someone who seemed to come from another planet and lived three lifetimes? How can you talk about someone you never knew but affected your and many others’ lives so deeply?
Bowie exploded from the British glam rock scene in the early 70s, eventually becoming its most well-known ambassador. He looked like no one else in the world: a sometimes crossdressing, sometimes androgynous alien with a mission to become the biggest rock star in the world. He did so by playing music informed by early rock – including the melodicism of The Beatles, the psychedelia of Pink Floyd, and the avant sounds of the Velvet Underground and the Stooges. After killing his alter ego Ziggy Stardust at the height of Bowiemania, he went on to explore many different contexts, personas, and sounds, dabbling and innovating in disco, R&B, krautrock, ambient, and modern electronic music. In the 80s, his star rose further by becoming a mainstay on radio, thanks to permanent hits like “Let’s Dance,” “Ashes To Ashes,” “Modern Love,” and “China Girl.” Not to be outdone, the 90s saw him venturing into NYC downtown avant-garde jazz, industrial, drum ‘n’ bass, and trip hop. He also collaborated with and nurtured newer artists, producing records by TV On The Radio and Arcade Fire. Simultaneously, he became a fashion icon and had a profound impact on the cinematic world.
His catalog is extensive, and since he explored so much territory, it’s almost impossible to find an aspect of music nowadays he didn’t influence, including hip-hop. Before Bowie, mainstream rock and the underground were almost completely divorced. He inadvertently invented “alternative” by bridging the gap between the two, and touched those cultural fields for the remainder of his career. He was fascinated by the most out-there sounds, yet he always invoked a catchy pop sensibility that invited listeners into his galaxy. Looking back, much of the popular and most enduring music made in the 80s sounds like the world catching up to his work.
His earlier music uses outer space and science fiction as metaphors for the experience of feeling like an outsider. If there’s a way to both synthesize Bowie’s career and his worldwide appeal generation after generation, it’s that this larger-than-life, otherworldy man, was an earthly misfit himself. He tried breaking into music for years before he found an audience, and he finally did it by embracing his eccentricities. In the process, he opened the door for everybody to embrace the Other within themselves. The Man Who Fell To Earth was not in fact a visitor from another world, but someone who decided to walk his own path, sharing his taste, sensibilities, and talent with all of us, setting an example for us to be our weird, wonderful selves, no matter how different we feel from others. Music and art seem to have changed to fit his own vision, like few extraordinary innovators have done. Now, he’s bound to become the stuff of true legends.
Of course, his contributions have touched every corner of the globe. We give you the best Bowie covers from Latin American artists and fans.
1
Fricción - “Héroes”
Fricción was at the heart of the rock en tu idioma campaign in Argentina, and became one of the most important bands of the movement. Thanks to frontman Richard Coleman’s striking image and amazing post-punk sound, the band became huge, and made “Heroes” their own. Cerati had a hand in both Fricción and this cover.
2
Gustavo Cerati - “The Jean Genie”
Early in his career, Cerati helped shape Argentine rock, thanks to his work with Fricción and their cover of “Heroes.” In this clip of his 2006 tour, he takes a turn at another Bowie number from the star’s lauded Aladdin Sane album.
3
Cienfuegos - “Moonage Daydream”
The Argentina punk band might not have picked one of the most frenetic songs in the Bowie catalog, but they make The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars cut their own.
4
El Vez - “(Rock N’ Roll Suicide) If I Can Dream"
El Vez, the “Chicano Elvis,” has ventured outside his muse to pay tribute to other figures, and Bowie is one of them. Assuming the persona of the Thin Brown Duke, Robert López struts his stuff with his take on “(Rock N’ Roll Suicide) If I Can Dream.”
5
Fobia - “Presionado (Under Pressure)”
The iconic Mexican band contributed this cut to Tributo a Queen: Los Grandes del Rock en Español, the Spanish-language tribute album to Queen. With the Fobia touch, the Freddie Mercury and David Bowie duet becomes something else altogether. Kudos to Leonardo De Lozanne for tackling both parts and coming out on top.
6
Seu Jorge - 'The Life Aquatic Studio Sessions'
Brazilian musician Seu Jorge was commissioned by director Wes Anderson to record several songs for his 2004 film The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou. Sung entirely in Portuguese and played with an acoustic guitar, Bowie said Jorge’s versions made him notice the beauty within his old songs.
7
Hermanos Calatrava - "Space Oddity"
Spanish comedic musical brothers Manuel and Francisco García Lozano applied their schtick to this early Bowie number. You’re either going to love it or hate it. Also, it was released in 1974, making it one of the earliest Bowie covers in Spanish.
8
Parálisis Permanente - “Héroes”
The influential movida madrileña goth punk band also made “Heroes” their own, giving it a dark veil of post-punk bass shrouded in hissing delivery.
PostedByChris Shaw
on Thu, Jul 24, 2014 at 3:45 PM
In honor of the Flyer Flashback page that's been running in the Flyer this year,
here's a history of the Antenna Club Ross Johnson wrote in October, 1997.
Til The Well Ran Dry
A selective history of memphis' original punk club.
by Ross Johnson
The plain-looking bar at 1588 Madison has been known variously as the Mousetrap, Detroit Rock City, Good Time Charlie's, the Well, Antenna, the Void, Barristers, and currently as Madison Flame. In its incarnations as the Well and Antenna, it served as a backdrop for the development of Memphis' punk/underground music scene. From 1979, when the Well opened its doors, until 1995, when manager Mark McGehee closed the Antenna Club, this site produced an endless variety of noise and musical aggravation. That such a scene developed out of a Midtown watering hole is an interesting story. That it thrived and persisted for 16 years is an even stranger one.
In 1978 the bar was known as Good Time Charlie's and owner Frank Duran featured live music after hours from Memphis bands like Crawpatch, but in early 1979 he changed the club's name to the Well and began featuring local rock bands on weekend nights. In February of that year local pop-rockers Hero (featuring soon-to-be Crime drummer Carlton Rash) had a Friday/Saturday booking there. Randy Chertow, bass player for the Randy Band, went down that Friday night to check out the club as a possible site for his group.
Hero did not draw much of a crowd that evening, but Chertow liked the club and wanted a booking as soon as possible. To speed up the process, he called the next afternoon, saying he was an agent from New York City with a band needing a place to play that Saturday night. When the conversation ended, the Saturday-night bill at the Well featured Hero and the Randy Band. This event marked the beginning of the punk scene in Memphis.
Previously, vaguely punkish groups like the Klitz, the Scruffs, and the Randy Band made do with bookings anywhere they could get them, usually misrepresenting themselves as kickass rock groups to club owners who wanted only cover bands who could draw drinking crowds. Any group that was arty or that played original tunes was less than welcome on most Memphis club stages. Frank Duran didn't care about any of this; he simply wanted customers for the Well. And the Randy Band provided that on a regular basis with weekend bookings there.
The Randy Band was largely responsible for pulling the strands of Memphis' burgeoning underground music scene together at that time. Singer/guitarist Tommy Hull and bass player Randy Chertow met in 1976 and began playing in local clubs as the Randy Band in 1977. Chertow cites early Memphis pop-rockers the Scruffs as inspiration and competition, but the Scruffs left Memphis for the New York scene in 1978, discouraged with the lack of live music outlets in Memphis for any band that didn't play boogie or metal.
The Randy Band played Uncle Ernie's, the Cosmic Cowboy, Prince Mongo's, the Oar House, the Midtown Saloon, and even numerous times in the pub at Rhodes College. But it was at the Well that they found a sympathetic, interested audience, consisting mainly of teenage girls and friends of Chertow's, who was an expert at getting the most unlikely people together in social and musical situations.
By 1979 the group consisted of Chertow, singer Hull, guitarist Ricky Branyan (formerly of the Scruffs and glad to be back in Memphis), and a number of drummers that came and went. With Branyan's boyish good looks, Hull's expertly crafted and catchy pop songs, and Chertow's melodic bass playing (people often joked that the Randy Band had two rhythm guitarists and a lead bass player), the band started pulling good crowds with regular weekend bookings at the Well. People still speak of those early Well performances in glowing terms; it is a shame that the Randy Band's sound was never adequately documented on vinyl (this was before CDs, folks). But they did start things rolling at the Well, soon attracting the attention of other Memphis bands desperate for a new place to play.
Tav Falco's Panther Burns had just formed in early 1979 and were looking for somewhere besides a cotton loft on Front Street to play. Falco's crew noticed the rather large crowds the Randy Band was drawing and wanted to be a part of that scene. They also noticed the growing numbers of teenage girls attending Randy Band gigs, but that's another story.
So the Burns and the Randy Band started sharing weekend dates at the Well. During this period Duran would occasionally pull the power on the Panther Burns when they got particularly noisy and unmusical (which was pretty often in 1979). Duran had no problem ejecting unruly drunks from his club or offensive musicians from the stage. He would always let performers know when they had gone too far and if they didn't quit then, he would make them stop one way or another.
Memphis all-girl band the Klitz, got in on these Randy Band/Panther Burns bills too. The Well was very much a drunken social club in those early days, with band members swapping out both musically and sexually, quite a lot like other developing punk scenes across the country at that time.
The Well gave the Memphis scene something of a working-class orientation to go along with the expected dose of drink, drugs, noise, and excessive emotionality. Older regulars from the Good Time Charlie's/Mousetrap days still hung out at the bar in the afternoons for cheap beer, and if they got particularly drunk they would often stay for the band sets on Friday and Saturday nights. Band members were often treated to impassioned critiques of their estimable musical talents from the happy-hour regulars who were too drunk to get off their bar stools and crawl home. Some of the Well musicians also started dropping in early to drink and debate with the older crowd who came in during the afternoons. A number of unlikely friendships between redneck barflies and punk-rock irregulars developed during those foggy happy hours.
When the legal drinking age in Tennessee changed from 18 to 19 in 1980, the problem of underage drinking raised its head. The police started making regular late-night raids at the Well checking for underage drinkers. More than once Duran came close to losing his beer license.
Tiring of the aggravation, he decided to sell his interest in the club to local hair stylist Jimmy Barker, who wanted to turn the Well into more of an arty new music club. With financial backing from Phillip Stratton, Barker opened the Antenna in March 1981 with a show featuring Memphis' Quo Jr. and rockabilly trend-jumpers the RockCats (at the time featuring New York Dolls drummer Jerry Nolan).
Plastic forks hung from the ceiling (the health department later made Barker take them down); the walls were painted black; the mirror behind the stage was gone (a memento from the bar's earlier tenure as a strip club); and there were television monitors showing what soon came to be known as "videos." Barker's videos featured himself and a number of his friends dryly emoting in front of a static video camera. From March 1981 until the Antenna closed, the bar featured these monitors which were turned on immediately after bands played; those flickering images were often on during bands' live sets as well. This practice had a disconcerting effect after a while, especially when one of your favorite bands finished a set and a Duran Duran video came on immediately afterward. Many people got their fill of rock videos at the Antenna long before MTV killed off popular interest in the form. But it was one of those things you got used to if you spent any time there.
BARKER CHANGED MORE THAN JUST THE look of the club; he booked national acts at the Antenna. Previously the Well had featured Memphis bands exclusively, allowing a rather fragile scene to develop musically and commercially without competition from out-of-town groups.
A few weeks after the Antenna opened, Barker booked the Brides of Funkenstein, who put on an extravagant show, the likes of which most Well customers had seen only on television or in live concerts at larger halls.
Of course, Barker lost money with this practice, and soon partner Phillip Stratton was looking for someone else to help him with the more mundane aspects of club management. Enter Steve McGehee from Frayser.
McGehee, who had worked for a number of years at TGI Friday's, was looking for a club to manage. Barker was forced out rather abruptly and McGehee took over the day-to-day operations of the club in June 1981 with Phillip Stratton remaining a partner until 1984, when McGehee bought him out. The Antenna remained McGehee-family-owned and -operated until it closed.
McGehee booked a combination of local bands along with national and international acts. He recalls using Bob Singerman's New York-based booking agency a lot in the early days. More often than not, agents would call him with a group they wanted to book at the Antenna.
As the years went by, McGehee saw more contracts and riders from the out-of-town acts that appeared there. When the Irish group Hothouse Flowers played, he had to add some extra stage planking to accommodate a rented grand piano they insisted on having; he had to have the piano tuned as well. German noise-rockers MDK played the Antenna in 1983 and insisted that Steve provide a meal, shoving a copy of their contract in his face and saying,"McGehee, feed us." He obliged with a few of "Burrito Bob" Holmes' special burritos that were languishing in a freezer in the club's little-used kitchen. They ate them greedily and in appreciation flooded his bathroom and stole several pairs of blue jeans after they stayed at his house.
The Antenna became a regular stop for SST record-label bands in the early to mid-'80s. Black Flag played there numerous times with Henry Rollins before he turned into a professional careerist and self-promoter. Word of mouth played a part in bringing national groups to the Antenna. Touring bands would tell other groups that the Antenna was the best place (or only place) to play in Memphis.
In 1991, McGehee produced T-shirts to commemorate the club's 10th anniversary. On the shirts was a list of every band that played the Antenna during that period. McGehee compiled the list from booking calendars and memory. Looking at that list now one sees the names of groups that have gone on to sell millions of records as well as obscure loser bands that played once and then broke up.
R.E.M. played the Antenna several times. The band once called Tav Falco to see if the Panther Burns would be interested in opening for them. Falco, who had never heard of them, passed on the offer.
Davis McCain's (of Easley Recording) band Barking Dog took that opening spot and even supplied the PA which R.E.M. blew that evening. Those were the days before Michael Stipe and his boys became college favorites, and they often played in an intoxicated state on stage. By the time their first IRS album was released in 1983, they were pulling crowds too large for the Antenna to accommodate. But Steve McGehee had them first and their recently fired manager, Jefferson Holt, used to take the door for them, even lending beer money if you were broke and particularly desperate for a beer.
THE CLUB DEPENDED ON LOCAL bands for the most part, of course. The Crime and Calculated X were big draws in the early '80s, peddling Memphis versions of power pop and British synth rock respectively. Hipper bands may have looked down on these two, but they also envied their ability to fill the Antenna to capacity. The Panther Burns waxed and waned in their drawing power over the years at the Antenna.
"You either hated or loved the Panther Burns," McGehee says. "They were either really good or really bad. There was no in-between with them. The same was true of the Modifiers."
Probably no other Memphis band personified the Antenna better than the Modifiers. The core of the group was singer Milford Thompson and guitarist Bob Holmes with second guitarists, bass players, and drummers coming and going. They played a brand of music that could best be described as a cross between Ferlin Husky and Black Flag years before the current interest in bands that rock up country sounds.
Unfortunately for them, the Modifiers were ahead of their time, and after an extended period in Los Angeles in the mid-1980s, they broke up.
"People would get mad at me for always booking the Modifers as an opening act, but I didn't have to pay 'em anything," McGehee recalls. "They played for beer. They would show up at noon for soundcheck and by 5 p.m. they would be so drunk they could barely see."
The Antenna was more than just the bands that played there. Steve's sister, Robin, tended bar in a cheerful manner and served countless drunks who never stopped trying to pick her up.
The Antenna had a reputation as a violent club, but in reality there were few fights in the bar, quite a feat when one recalls the sheer volume of drunken Memphians who came to the club for the express purpose of "punkin' out." Rebel from Frayser took money at the door and always had a good story for anyone who cared to listen. And finally, there was broken-hearted Rowena (immortalized in a Modifiers song of the same name) who sat at the bar night after night looking for a kind word or gesture.
In 1988, the state of Tennessee assessed McGehee a rather large amount in unpaid sales taxes, effectively keeping the Antenna in perpetual bankruptcy until it closed. No matter what resentful musicians may have thought at the time, McGehee did not make a fortune running the Antenna.
"I lost more than I made," he says. "I promise you that. A lot more."
McGehee married in 1988 and started a family, putting a further financial strain on his situation. He recalls that on St. Patrick's Day 1991 he was ready to close the club down, but he asked his brother Mark if he would take it over for him. Mark McGehee stayed on until the Antenna closed.
Mark had to scramble for bookings while local groups played at the New Daisy and other Memphis venues. Steve recalls that Club Six-One-Six seemed to take away a lot of his business after it opened with a similar format as the Antenna.
By June 1995 the brothers McGehee, tired of the struggle, decided to sell the bar. It reopened later that year for a brief period as the Void, and former Barristers owner Chris Walker ran it as Barristers Midtown for a few months during the spring of '96. Currently the club is known as the Madison Flame. Local bands appear there on an irregular basis.
Essentially the club's history came to a halt in 1995 when the McGehees threw in the towel.
"It got to be more of a hassle trying to pay off the back taxes than it was to keep it open. I only regret that more people didn't hear and see the stuff I did there because there was some incredible music that happened in that place," Steve McGehee says today. "I remember many nights when I was in there by myself seeing great bands and saying I can't believe there's nobody here to see these people. Now there were also a lot of times when I wished I wasn't there. But great bands would come and go and nobody would ever know it."
And what ever happened to Barry Bob anyway?
(Ross Johnson was a drummer with Panther Burns. His retrospective on that band appeared in the February 1-7, 1996, issue of the Flyer.)
Now, the story can be told.
Alex Chilton Remembered by Ross Johnson (Antenna Singles 2)
Panther Burns drummer Ross Johnson talks about his friend and bandmate Alex Chilton. This interview was recorded on November 6, 2009 as a part of the upcoming documentary "Antenna".
johnpickle
johnpickle
1 year ago
Need to see this masterpiece again!
Bill Howell
Bill Howell
5 years ago
Cut my musical teeth there. Played there when it was the Well in 1977 and then The Antenna in the 1980's. Great place! Rock on Steve McGeehee!
Shayne Gray
Shayne Gray
5 years ago
When's this out? I played my first Memphis gig (in techno-squid eats parliament) there opening for ALL around 1993
pauliethink
pauliethink
5 years ago
This is awesome! Can't wait to see the full Doc. My first show ever was that Descendents, Dagnasty and Distemper show in 86.
mobetterable
mobetterable
8 years ago
@confutates cool, just thought you should know. :) and i guess you figured out his first name is "tee" as opposed to "t." (i'm really good friends with him and his wife, that's how i know that shit!)
mobetterable
mobetterable
8 years ago
looks great! just for the sake of correctness, tee's last name is spelled "cloar," not "chlor."
Chris McCoy
Chris McCoy
8 years ago
@mobetterable My fault!
BrooklynSquid
BrooklynSquid
5 years ago
I was living in on the Navy base in Millington in 1985. The Antenna Club was an oasis! It saved my life.
Jon Boll
Jon Boll
2 years ago
DV-8 was my favorite act. John Floyd was the guitar player and singer for that little group. They played Clash, Pistols, other early punk. 1981
antenna singles #1 - angerhead
The first of monthly short previews from the upcoming documentary "Antenna". Today, an introduction to legendary bouncer and Metro Waste frontiersman, Angerhead.
considered one of the first punk documentaries.
Martha Todd Stephens
Martha Todd Stephens
6 months ago
RIP MARK KALLAHER. ANGERHEAD LEFT THE PHYSICAL WORLD YEST JAN 28, 2018. MEMPHIS LEGEND. LOVE OF MY LIFE. NEVER FORGOTTEN
1
toomanythings
toomanythings
7 years ago
You were the best babysitter Sammi ever had. Love and miss you, man!
1
Angela Hulsey
Angela Hulsey
5 years ago
my lil boy loves him as much as i do and he is a legand!!!!im honored to say hes also my friend!!!!
lil angie
1
Martha Todd Stephens
Martha Todd Stephens
5 years ago
"I could show you where the beach was "--and how he did---love me some Angerhead!
Martha Todd Stephens
Martha Todd Stephens
8 years ago
PLEASE SEND PRAYERS UP FOR MARK--HE'S VERY ILL IN THE MED. HOSPITAL.
Alex Chilton performs Boogie Shoes in Black and White GloryAntenna: Origins
you missed it at 6:45 pm, Studio on the Square. Trailer for the documentary short, "Antenna : Origins", premiering at the 13th Annual Indie Memphis Film Festival
Antenna Singles #5 - What Is Punk?
Memphis musicians remember their first impressions of punk rock. Featuring Mike McCarthy and George Cole (Distemper), Jack Yarber (Oblivians, Jack O & the Tearjerkers), Tripp Lamkins (Grifters, Dragoon), Eric Friedl (Oblivians, Goner Records). Music "Truth About Lies" - Distemper. From the upcoming documentary "Antenna".
Antenna Singles #3 - Hardcore Punks
In this single from the upcoming documentary "Antenna", Marvin Stockwell and Ceylon Mooney of Pezz and Christian Walker of Greaseland talk about the beginning of Memphis hardcore.
For several months, work has been in progress locally on a
documentary film about Memphis' legendary alternative/punk nightclub
from 80s and early 90s, the Antenna Club. The project is being helmed by local musician and filmmaker Chris McCoy, who is directing his first full-length film since 2006's Eat.
The film features a complete overview of the club's history, from its
origins in the late 70s as the Well, to the 80s and early 90s heyday,
to the lean final stretch in 1995, along the way showcasing unbelievable
rare live footage and interviews with the Oblivians, Panther Burns, the Klitz, the Modifiers, Pezz, Sobering Consequences, the Crime, the Grifters and so, so many more.
This week, McCoy took his new project public, launching a page on the site Kickstarter which
allows anyone to contribute to film's final completion and
distribution. McCoy and his crew are ambitiously looking to scrounge up
around $6 thousand, but have already raised approximately 20% in a just
a few days.
He has also unveiled a new, longer cut of the film's trailer, which you can see via the link below:
McCoy spoke to the Flyer this week about the process of making the film, and the prospects of releasing it later this year.
Flyer: What made you decide to make a film about the history of the Antenna? Chris McCoy: A documentary about the
Antenna Club is one of the projects that Memphis filmmakers have thrown
around for years. "Somebody should do that,” we'd say.
In October of
2009, we were approached by John Floyd and Ross Johnson, who had been
trying to sell a book proposal about the Memphis-music underground.
They had some start-up funds, and had decided that a movie would be a
better vehicle for the subject than a book, because that way they could
introduce an audience to a lot of music that has been forgotten. After
talking to them, we proposed to use the Antenna as a focal point for the
project, since it was in real life, anyway. We got Steve McGehee, the
owner of the Antenna, on board as a producer, and away we went.
Were you expecting the film and project to be as big and time-consuming of an endeavor as it seems to have become?
I knew it was going to be big, but I didn't know it was going to be
this hard. And if we didn't have the help of Live From Memphis, it
would be impossible. What are some of the challenges you've faced in putting it together so far?
In the 21st century, everyone has cell phones and digital cameras at
club shows. Bands can record in their bedrooms and release music
without ever playing a gig. In the 1970s and 80s, it was expensive to
take pictures, record video, and record your music. No one ever texted
"I'm at the Antenna," and no one ever made their Facebook status
"Calculated X rules!" It's been really hard to find vintage video and
decent recordings of some of the early bands. Has there been anyone that you really wanted to interview
that's been either difficult to track down or unwilling to participate?
Yes, but I'm not going to say who, because I'm still trying to get them to talk. What are your plans at this point for releasing the film? Will it be on DVD, in theaters, etc?
We plan to have a 90 to 120-minute theatrical cut by early 2011, hit
the festival circuit, and do a limited theatrical run in Memphis. We
are exploring a self-distribution model for the DVD, since we figure we
know our audience better than anyone else. But if someone reading this
wants to invest in a release, call me. In fact, if anyone wants to
invest in any aspect of this project, I'm all ears.
In addition to the movie DVD, which will most likely be an extended
version of the theatrical cut, we are also planning a bonus DVD of
vintage and contemporary performances, a soundtrack CD, and lots of
other extras. We could do a 5-hour miniseries with the amount of
material we have, and there's more coming in every day. We understand you'll be submitting a portion of the
documentary to the Indie Memphis festival. Can you tell us what that
version of the film it will be?
We have entered a documentary short in Indie Memphis called Antenna:
Origins. It is basically the first 25 minutes of the film, beginning
with the garage rock scene of the 1960s and ending with the founding of
the Antenna club in 1981. We have not yet been formally accepted into
the festival, but we have our fingers crossed. What was your personal experience with/connection to the Antenna Club? Do you have a favorite Antenna memory?
Both Laura Jean Hocking (my editor and lovely wife) and I spent
countless hours at the club. She says she fondly remembers being
scarred for life by seeing the Modifiers as a teenager. I guess my
favorite Antenna memory was when my band Pisshorse opened for
Neighborhood Texture Jam, whom I idolized. In the process of making the film, have you discovered any
exciting music or bands or personalities that you didn't know much about
previously?
I personally had heard about the Modifiers, but had no idea what a
force of nature they were until we uncovered a video of them from 1986.
Another revelation has been how fresh some of this stuff still sounds.
Eraserhead, Metro Waste, Distemper, Sobering Consequences, Barking Dog.
. . the list goes on. I played in a noise band called the New
Intruders for years, and I really had no idea we were following in the
footsteps of Panther Burns. Tell us about Kickstarter, and the process of taking the
project public - what made you decide to go that route to obtain
funding?
We started with some private funds, but not enough to finish the job.
Instead of pitching a concept to a bunch of potential funders, we
decided to shoot with what we had, cut together a trailer, and then try
to raise finishing funds. We've been guerrilla filmmakers for years, so
we're used to working with nothing. We figured that it would be easier
to convince people that we knew what we were doing with a trailer than
it would be to just say, "trust us!"
Kickstarter is a new service from Amazon.com that allows people to
contribute to artistic and other projects that they would love to see
completed, but which might not be "pitchable" to the entertainment
establishment. Think about trying to pitch a movie to a Hollywood
executive about a bunch of bands that never sold any records, but played
at a tiny, stinky club in Memphis, of all places. But just because the
big money would rather make Transformers 3D: Robots Blowing Shit Up
doesn't mean there's not an audience for this movie. We thought the
crowdsourcing model was perfect for the Antenna project, because, in the
words of Pezz's Ceylon Mooney, "at the Antenna, you found that the
people in the audience and the bands on the stage were the same people." Finally, do you feel any pressure being the one in charge of
the Antenna story, and, if so, how has it affected your filmmaking
process?
We went from being excited that we were going to get to make the
Antenna movie to being overwhelmed by the obligation to get it right.
This is a big piece of Memphis history, and one that is very close to
our hearts and the hearts of a lot of people. It's the place and the
era that set a lot of the norms that we take for granted in the Memphis
cultural scene today. We've come to accept that there's no way to tell
this story without pissing some people off, so we're going to do our
best to tell the story as truthfully as we can. I think the weight of
history has made us more passionate about it.
When
the Antenna opened in March, 1981, Memphis had never seen anything like
it. Created as a video club before MTV was available here, it was the
first place many Memphians had ever seen a music video. It was the place
where this city had its first exposure to a huge array of artists who
would go on to achieve worldwide fame: REM, Black Flag, The Minutemen,
The Red Hot Chili Peppers, Green Day, and a host of others too numerous
to name. But most importantly, it provided a place for the nascent
Memphis underground music scene—the punkers, the New Wavers, the
jangle-poppers and the uncategorizable—to play. it was the place where
at least two generations of musicians got their start, and that birthed
the scene that still carries the DIY torch to this day. It was, for more
than a decade, the coolest place in Memphis.
Our
documentary traces the origins of the Memphis underground, from the
garage rock of the 60s through the fallow period following the
commercial failure of Big Star to the birth of punk rock and the Alex
Chilton orchestrated creative explosion of the late 70s, early 80s.
We'll tell the stories of the Klitz, Panther Burns, Neon Wheels, The
Modifiers, Angerhead, Metro Waste, Pezz, Sobering Consequences,
Distemper, Neighborhood Texture Jam, Impala, The Oblivians, The
Grifters, and dozens of other bands whose creative output far exceeded
their public profile. We'll remember Frank and Jackie Duran, the owners
of a rough-and-tumble bar called the Well who gave the musical pioneers a
place to play, despite the fact that they really didn't like punk rock.
And we will tell the story of the founding of the Antenna club and
its15 year history of music, rebellion, and heartbreak.