lunes, febrero 02, 2009

LA CONJURA DE LAS SOMBRAS (I)

Un error de previsión por parte de los organizadores de la gira le había costado un constipado que le impediría actuar aquella noche. Ricardo llamó a casa, necesitaba escuchar una voz familiar.
-¿Bob? –preguntó
-Sí, Ric.Soy Bob.
-¿Está mamá en casa?
-No, estoy solo con mi hija. Todos han ido a misa. Ya sabes que yo nunca terminé de entender eso de la santísima trinidad. Hey hermano, tienes mala voz.
-No podré actuar esta noche. El autobús no dispone de calefacción y ha estado nevando todo el día.
-Eso es una mierda hermano. ¿Qué haces tú viajando en autobús? ¿Por quién te han tomado?
-Todos los de la gira vamos en autobús. Bob – continuó – por qué no te subes al primer avión que salga para Chicago y continúas la gira conmigo. Necesito cerca a alguien de la familia.
-¿Y quieres que sea yo? – preguntó su hermano con un nudo en la garganta.
-Dijiste lo que sentías ¿Qué puedo reprocharte? Pero seguimos siendo hermanos.


Pocos días antes Ricardo y Bob terminaron a puñetazos una disputa que comenzó tras una recriminación de Ric a su hermano mayor por no haber comprado el vestido que le encargó para su madre. Bob, tremendamente alterado a causa de llevar un par de meses sin probar ni una gota de alcohol, condición inexcusable impuesta por su familia para poder acercarse a su hija recién nacida, perdió los estribos y todos los sentimientos que llevaban años encerrados en su interior afloraron frente a su hermano: el saberse la oveja negra de la familia, ex - traficante, ex - presidiario, alcohólico, mal padre, mal marido, un segundón ante los ojos de todos, siempre ensombrecido por Ricardo, el niño bueno, el ojito derecho de mamá… Aquella bomba de relojería explotó, pero Ricardo ya no era un niño, y fue éste quién tumbó a su hermano mayor gritando: "Yo no soy tu mujer, a mi no te resultará tan fácil pegarme".

Ricardo se arrepentía de lo que había hecho. Bob, siempre que no estaba borracho ni en prisión, cuidó de él, consiguió dinero para la familia, dinero de dudosa procedencia, todo hay que decirlo, pero siempre entregándolo a su madre sin quedarse un solo céntimo para él.
Antes que Ricardo alcanzara la fama, Bob sacó a toda la familia de un campamento al borde de un almacén de frutas donde trabajaban y malvivían y los asentó, como buenamente pudo, en los Estados Unidos, tierra de oportunidades.
Y la oportunidad se presentó para Ricardo, el soñador, un excelente guitarrista.
Bob siempre creyó en él, desde el principio, desde las primeras actuaciones en garajes a los que apenas asistían cincuenta compañeros de instituto.
Incluso cuando su mujer lo echaba de la caravana y cuando los celos ante la total falta de atención por parte de su madre iban poco a poco devorando sus entrañas, Bob siempre tuvo tiempo para atender a su hermano pequeño.

-De acuerdo mocoso. Allí estaré – y conteniendo sus lágrimas, Bob colgó el teléfono y continuó jugando con su hija.
Cuando Ric hubo dejado el teléfono Jiles llegó corriendo a su lado.
-¡Hey Ric, buenas noticias!
-¿Tampoco tiene cristales el autobús? – bromeó Ricardo.
-Todo lo contrario. Charles ha alquilado una avioneta para el resto de la gira. Cuando acabe la actuación sólo tardaremos dos horas en llegar al hotel y darnos un buen baño de agua caliente.
-Eso es estupendo – contestó Ric no muy emocionado -. Aún así, yo ya no podré actuar esta noche.
-Sí, bonita voz gastas hoy. Yo también creo que incubo una gripe. No te preocupes, los Belmonts alargarán su actuación para que el público no se queje demasiado. La gente te quiere, enano…
-El público es estupendo, pero estas giras cansan…
-Lo sé. ¿Con quién hablabas?
-Con mi hermano Bob. Mañana se nos une en Chicago. Quiero acabar la gira con él.
-Te entiendo. Me encanta actuar y el público es maravilloso. Pero, si pudiera, no dudaría un segundo en cambiar todos los aplausos de esta noche por ver una sonrisa de mi hija.

Cuando Ric marchó para dar las gracias a Charles por alquilar la avioneta, Jiles quedo pensando en su caótica existencia: noches enteras en vela escribiendo canciones, interminables sesiones de grabación, promoción de discos haciendo acto de presencia en emisoras, programas de televisión y cualquier tipo de evento susceptible de ser visto por más de quinientas personas y, sobre todo, las giras.

Jiles recordaba su infancia y adolescencia en Texas. Su primer y único empleo, antes de saltar a la fama, le dio uno de los mejores recuerdos de su vida.
Jiles fue cantande y DJ en una emisora local y, un buen día, sin saber muy bien que le llevó a hacerlo , decidió que había llegado el momento de destacar, de decir "aquí estoy yo", y vaya si lo consiguió: pasó seis días ininterrumpidos en la emisora, batiendo de este modo un record, llegando a pinchar mil ochocientas veintiuna canciones.
Siempre habló de aquella semana como del momento especial de su vida, dándole mayor importancia que a cualquier otro acontecimiento de su existencia, pero mentía.
Su carácter bromista y extrovertido le hacía ocultar sus verdaderos sentimientos tras aquella increíble y esperpéntica historia.
Realmente, el momento más emocionante de su vida vino mucho antes que el record, cinco años antes de encerrarse en aquella emisora: el nacimiento de su primera hija, Deborah.

Jiles pensaba en ella constantemente. Y también en su mujer, que iba a volver a hacerle el hombre más feliz del mundo en pocos meses, pues el segundo bebé estaba en camino.
Estaba deseando terminar la gira para poder abrazarlas.

Mientras los Belmonts alargaban su actuación con el fin de apaciguar a un sector del público que había asistido para poder ver a Ricardo, estrella del momento, el cabeza de cartel, Charles Hardin, también pasaba revista a su vida.
Tanto él como Jiles y Ricardo habían pasado de apedrear gatos en la calle a ser mundialmente conocidos en cuestión de meses.

Charles y su amigo Bob Montgomery comenzaron tiempo atrás como intérpretes de música country. Pero en 1955 presenciaron la actuación de un joven de Memphis que les haría cambiar de rumbo sin dudarlo.
Aquel joven, llamado Elvis Presley, condicionó la vida de Charles Hardin y la de infinidad de personas en su época y, aún hoy, lo sigue haciendo.

El cambio a ese nuevo trepidante estilo funcionó mejor de lo que hubiera cabido esperar y Charles y su banda, ya sin Montgomery, alcanzaron cotas de fama impresionantes en cuestión de meses.
Como casi todos, de su vertiginoso ascenso recordaba con especial cariño esos pequeños detalles personales más que las grandes giras y ver su nombre en las listas de éxitos: recordaba sus partidas de cartas con Chuck Berry, a su amigo Eddie Cochran, a quien llamó para que formara parte de aquella gira pero no pudo por tener un compromiso para aparecer en una película que empezaría a rodarse de inmediato, sus colaboraciones con Ray Charles, de las que lamentablemente jamás quedó nada grabado…

Recordaba con especial simpatía el día que un DJ de Buffalo enloqueció y se encerró en la emisora con dos copias de uno de sus singles, radiándolo durante diecisiete horas seguidas, hasta que fue desalojado por la policía. Y lamentaba no haber podido conocer personalmente a tan curioso personaje.



También había momentos que no le gustaba recordar, como cuando en 1958 tuvo que abandonar a su banda por presiones de la discográfica.
Recién casado y con apuros económicos no estaba en situación de pelear por nadie que no fuera él mismo.
Pero a pesar de todo, aquella separación comenzó a forjar la leyenda pues, sin la banda, Charles Hardin comenzó a experimentar, a dar forma a esas ideas que le habían rondado la cabeza durante años.
La mayoría de sus temas presentaban armonías mucho más complejas que lo que se había hecho hasta la fecha. Sin abandonar el Rock´n´Roll creó un estilo donde la melodía y los arreglos primaban sobre el ritmo y fue pionero en la fusión de orquesta con banda de Rock.

Pero a pesar de todo necesitaba el dinero y, en lugar de estar donde más le gustaba estar, en su estudio de grabación, cerca de casa, de su mujer, allí se encontraba, como cabeza de cartel junto a Ricardo, Jiles y los Belmonts, en una gira por todo el oeste en un autobús sin calefacción para poder hacer frente a las facturas. Y encima tenía que pagar una avioneta de su bolsillo si no quería verse envuelto en una caravana de griposos.

Tras la actuación de los Belmonts salió al escenario. Era quien la mayoría del público quería ver.
Mejor dicho, era quien la mayoría del público quería escuchar, pues no encajaba para nada en el perfil de roquero chulo guaperas que habían impuesto otros como Elvis, Eddie Cochran, Gene Vincent o el propio Ricardo.
Más bien tenía pinta de empollón – gafotas – chivato – acusica, pero su simpatía, su dicharachero carácter tejano y su enorme talento musical tuvieron más peso en el juicio del público de todo el mundo.

Puso al público en pie, hizo vibrar el edificio y, saltándose todos los cánones y normas no escritas del Rock´n´Roll finalizó la actuación con una balada titulada "True Love Ways", que dedicó a su esposa usando la expresión "alguien muy especial a quien estoy deseando volver a abrazar", pues por contrato el matrimonio debía mantenerse en secreto para no desilusionar a las fans.

Tras la actuación The Belmonts, la orquesta de acompañamiento y el resto del personal de la gira, incluyendo al propio agente organizador, subieron al autobús ataviados con varias chaquetas y mantas para el gélido trayecto a Chicago.
Charles, Jiles y Ricardo subieron a la avioneta sintiéndose afortunados.

Hay quien ha llegado a hablar de "el día que murió la música".
Apenas cinco minutos después del despegue, la avioneta en que viajaban Ricardo Valenzuela (Ritchie Valens), Jiles Perry Richardson ("The Big Bopper") y Charles Hardin Holley (Buddy Holly) se estrellaba en un campo de maíz del estado de Iowa.

No hubo supervivientes.



(Y entonces las sombras se conjuraron, y con los restos de aquella avioneta crearon un taxi que comenzó a circula por las calles londinenses).

CONTINUARA…

By
Luis Sánchez “Swingcat”.

3 comentarios:

Johnny Hughes, author of Texas Poker Wisdom, a novel dijo...
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Johnny Hughes, author of Texas Poker Wisdom, a novel dijo...

Elvis Presley, Buddy Holly, Joe Ely, and the Cotton Club
by Johnny Hughes,
January 2009

Elvis Presley was leaning against his pink, 1954 Cadillac in front of Lubbock's historic Cotton Club. The small crowd were mesmerized by his great looks, cockiness, and charisma. He put on quite a show, doing nearly all the talking. Elvis bragged about his sexual conquests, using language you didn't hear around women. He said he'd been a truck driver six months earlier. Now he could have a new woman in each town. He told a story about being caught having sex in his back seat. An angry husband grabbed his wife by the ankles and pulled her out from under Elvis. I doubted that.
Earlier, at the Fair Park Coliseum, Elvis had signed girl's breasts, arms, foreheads, bras, and panties. No one had ever seen anything like it. We had met Elvis' first manager, Bob Neal, bass player, Bill Black, and guitarist Scotty Moore. They wanted us to bring some beer out to the Cotton Club. So we did. My meeting with Bob Neal in 1955 was to have great meaning in my future. I was 15.

The old scandal rag, Confidential, had a story about Elvis at the Cotton Club and the Fair Park Coliseum. It had a picture of the Cotton Club and told of Elvis' unique approach to autographing female body parts. It said he had taken two girls to Mackenzie Park for a tryst in his Cadillac.

Elvis did several shows in Lubbock during his first year on the road, in 1955. When he first came here, he made $75. His appearance in 1956 paid $4000. When he arrived in Lubbock, Bob Neal was his manager. By the end of the year, Colonel Tom Parker had taken over. Elvis played the Fair Park Coliseum for its opening on Jan. 6th, with a package show. When he played the Fair Park again, Feb. 13th, it was memorable. Colonel Tom Parker and Bob Neal were there. Buddy Holly and Bob Montgomery were on the bill. Waylon Jennings was there. Elvis was 19. Buddy was 18.

Elvis' early shows in Lubbock were:
Jan 6th 1955, Fair Park Coliseum. Feb 13th. Fair Park, Cotton Club April 29 Cotton Club June 3: Johnson Connelly Pontiac with Buddy Holly, Fair Park October 11: Fair Park October 15: Cotton Club, April 10, 1956: Fair Park. Elvis probably played the Cotton Club on all of his Lubbock dates. He also spent time with Buddy Holly on all his Lubbock visits.

Buddy Holly was the boffo popular teenager of all time around Lubbock. The town loved him! He had his own radio show on Pappy Dave Stone's KDAV, first with Jack Neal, later with Bob Montgomery in his early teens. KDAV was the first all-country station in America. Buddy fronted Bill Haley, Marty Robbins, and groups that traveled through. Stone was an early mentor. Buddy first met Waylon Jennings at KDAV. Disk jockeys there included Waylon, Roger Miller, Bill Mack, later America's most famous country DJ, and country comedian Don Bowman. Bowman and Miller became the best known writers of funny country songs.

All these singer-songwriters recorded there, did live remotes with jingles, and wrote songs. Elvis went to KDAV to sing live and record the Clover's "Fool, Fool Fool" and Big Joe Turner's "Shake Rattle and Roll" on acetates. This radio station in now KRFE, 580 a.m., located at 66th and MLK, owned by Wade Wilkes. They welcome visitors. It has to be the only place that Elvis, Buddy, Waylon, and Bill Mack all recorded. Johnny Cash sang live there. Waylon and Buddy became great friends through radio. Ben Hall, another KDAV disc jockey and songwriter, filmed in color at the Fair Park Coliseum. This video shows Johnny Cash, Carl Perkins, Elvis, Buddy and his friends.

Wade's dad, Big Ed Wilkes, owner of KDAV, managed country comedian, Jerry Clower, on MCA Records. He sent Joe Ely's demo tape to MCA. Bob Livingston also sent one of the tapes I gave him to MCA. This led to a contract. Pappy Dave Stone, the first owner of KDAV, helped Buddy get his record contract with Decca/MCA.

Another disc jockey at KDAV was Arlie Duff. He wrote the country classic, "Y'all Come." It has been recorded by nineteen well-known artists, including Bing Crosby. When Waylon Jennings and Don Bowman were hired by the Corbin brothers, Slim, Sky, and Larry, of KLLL, Buddy started to hang around there. They all did jingles, sang live, wrote songs, and recorded. Niki Sullivan, one of the original Crickets, was also a singing DJ at KLLL. Sky Corbin has an excellent book about this radio era and the intense competition between KLLL and KDAV. All the DJs had mottos. Sky Corbin's was "lover, fighter, wild horse rider, and a purty fair windmill man."

Don Bowman's motto was "come a foggin' cowboy." He'd make fun of the sponsors and get fired. We played poker together. He'd take breaks in the poker game to sing funny songs. I played poker with Buddy Holly before and after he got famous. He was incredibly polite and never had the big head. The nation only knew Buddy Holly for less than two years. He was the most famous guy around Lubbock from the age of fourteen.

Niki Sullivan, an original Cricket, and I had a singing duo as children. We cut little acetates in 1948. We also appeared several times on Bob Nash's kid talent show on KFYO. This was at the Tech Theatre. Buddy Holly and Charlene Hancock, Tommy's wife, also appeared on this show. Larry Holley, Buddy's brother, financed his early career, buying him a guitar and whatever else he needed. Buddy recorded twenty acetates at KDAV from 1953 until 1957. He also did a lot of recording at KLLL. Larry Holley said Niki was the most talented Cricket except Buddy. All of Buddy's band mates and all of Joe Ely's band mates were musicians as children.

Buddy and Elvis met at the Cotton Club. Buddy taught Elvis the lyrics to the Drifter's "Money Honey". After that, Buddy met Elvis on each of his Lubbock visits. I think Elvis went to the Cotton Club on every Lubbock appearance. When Elvis played a show at the Johnson Connelly Pontiac showroom, Mac Davis was there. I was too.

The last time Elvis played the Fair Park Coliseum on April 10,1956, he was as famous as it gets. Buddy Holly, Sonny Curtis, Jerry Allison, and Don Guess were a front act. They did two shows and played for over 10,000 people. Those wonderful I.G. Holmes photos, taken at several locations, usually show Buddy and his pals with Elvis. Lubbock had a population of 80,000 at the time. Elvis was still signing everything put in front of him. Not many people could have signing women as a hobby.
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Many of the acetates recorded at KLLL and KDAV by Buddy and others were later released, many as bootlegs. When Buddy Holly recorded four songs at KDAV, the demo got him his first record contract. It wasn't just Lubbock radio that so supportive of Buddy Holly. The City of Lubbock hired him to play at teenage dances. He appeared at Lubbock High School assemblies and many other places in town.

Everyone in Lubbock cheered Buddy Holly on with his career. The newspaper reports were always positive. At one teenage gig, maybe at the Glassarama, there was only a small crowd. Some of us were doing the "dirty bop." The Lubbock Avalanche-Journal had photos the next day showing people with their eyes covered with a black strip. Sonny Curtis mentions that in his song, "The Real Buddy Holly Story." When Buddy Holly and the Crickets were on the Ed Sullivan show, the newspaper featured that. The whole town watched.


Buddy was fighting with his manager Norman Petty over money before he died. They were totally estranged. Larry Holley told me that Norman said to Buddy, "I'll see you dead before you get a penny." A few weeks later, Buddy was dead. When Buddy Holly died in a plane crash, it was headline news in the Lubbock Avalanche-Journal. Over 1000 people attended the funeral on February 7, 1959. Buddy was only twenty-two years old. His widow, Maria Elena Holly, was too upset to attend. The pall bearers were all songwriters and musicians that had played with Buddy: Niki Sullivan, Jerry Allison, Joe B. Mauldin, Sonny Curtis, Bob Montgomery, and Phil Everly. Elvis was in the Army. He had Colonel Tom send a large wreath of yellow roses.
In 1976, I was managing the Joe Ely Band. They had recorded an as-yet -to-be-released album for MCA Records. I was in Nashville to meet with the MCA execs. They wanted Joe to get a booking contract and mentioned some unheard of two-man shops. Bob Neal, Elvis' first manager, had great success in talent managing and booking. He sold his agency to the William Morris Agency, the biggest booking agency in the world, and stayed on as president of the Nashville branch.

I called the William Morris Agency and explained to the secretary that I did indeed know Bob Neal, as we had met at the Cotton Club in Lubbock, Texas when he was Elvis' manager. He came right on the phone. I told him the Joe Ely Band played mostly the Cotton Club. He said that after loading up to leave there one night, a cowboy called Elvis over to his car and knocked him down. Elvis was in a rage. He made them drive all over Lubbock checking every open place, as they looked for the guy. Bob Neal invited me to come right over.

Bob Neal played that, now classic, demo tape from Caldwell Studios and offered a booking contract. We agreed on a big music city strategy: Los Angeles, New York, Nashville, London, and Austin. Bob drove me back to MCA and they could not believe our good fortune. The man had been instrumental in the careers of Elvis, Carl Perkins, Johnny Cash, Roy Orbison, Johnny Rodriguez, and many others. The William Morris Agency sent the Joe Ely Band coast to coast and to Europe, first to front Merle Haggard, then on a second trip to front the Clash. The original Joe Ely Band were Lloyd Maines, Natalie's father, steel guitar, Jesse Taylor, electric guitar, Steve Keeton, drums, and Gregg Wright, bass. Ponty Bone, on accordion, joined a little later. The band did the shows and the recording. The recorded tunes were originals from Joe Ely, Butch Hancock, and Jimmie Dale Gilmore.

However, some of the William Morris bookings led to zig zag travel over long distances to so-called listening clubs. When I complained to Bob Neal, he'd recall the 300 dates Elvis played back in 1955. Four guys in Elvis' pink Cadillac. When Buddy made some money, he bought a pink Cadillac. Joe Ely bought a pristine, 1957 pink Cadillac that was much nicer than either of their pink Cadillacs.

When I'd hear from Bob Neal, it was very good news, especially the fantastic, uniformly-rave, album and performance reviews from newspapers and magazines everywhere. Time Magazine devoted a full page to Joe Ely. The earliest big rock critic to praise Joe Ely was Joe Nick Patoski, author of the definitive and critically-acclaimed Willie Nelson: An Epic Life. After one year, MCA was in turmoil. Big stars were leaving or filing lawsuits. We were told they might not re-new the option to make a second record. MCA regularly fired everyone we liked. Bob Neal thought the band should go to Los Angeles for a one-nighter.

He booked the Joe Ely Band into the best known club on the West Coast, the Palomino, owned by his dear pal, Tommy Thomas. We alerted other record companies. They drove back and forth to L.A. in a Dodge Van to play only one night. Robert Hilburn, the top rock critic for the Los Angeles Times, came with his date, Linda Ronstadt.

The Joe Ely Band loved to play music. They started on time, took short breaks, and played until someone made them stop. Robert Hilburn wrote that Ely could be, "the most important male singer to emerge in country music since the mid-60s crop of Waylon Jennings, Merle Haggard, and Willie Nelson." The long review with pictures took up the whole fine arts section of the biggest newspaper in the country. Hilburn praised each of the band individually. He was blown away when they just kept playing when the lights came on at closing time. After that, several major record companies were interested.

The last time I saw Bob Neal was at the Old Waldorf in San Francisco on February 22, 1979. Little Pete, a black drarf who was always around Stubb's Bar-B-Q, was traveling with the band. To open the show, Little Pete came out and announced, "Lubbock, Texas produces the Joe Ely Band!" Then he jumped off the elevated stage and Bo Billingsley, the giant roady, caught him. Bob Neal, the old showman that had seen it all, just loved that.


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This comment originally appears on www.virtualubbock.com Anyone may make copies of this one article or post it on any web site. Thanks to Chris Oglesby and Larry Holley.

Doktor Jeckill dijo...

Thanks a lot, Johnny.
Now I need to travel to a music festival, but in a few days, I´ll traduct your story and I´ll hang in the web.

Thank you very much for your visit & for your writing.