JimmyR

Memphis 1976 - 1985


I moved to Memphis at the beginning of the summer of 1976. There were about three bands that were supposed to happen, but it took me awhile to connect with something that looked like it had a future. I ended up with a drummer from one of the aforementioned bands, a bass player that we had found, and started putting something together. All that we needed was a singer to complete the unit, and I finally persuaded Freddie Kirksey, the last singer with Wake in Arkansas to come on over. This was great because not only did Freddie have a good voice and his keyboard playing would be an asset, but he was also one of the all-time funniest mofo’s in the world! We had plenty of laughs in that crew.

We called the band Wake, for lack of a better name, and proceeded to play out as much as possible, trying desperately to make our mark on the music scene in the area. We started to gig at local clubs, as well as make short road trips to the surrounding states hitting as many colleges and clubs as we could. Disco was at its peak then, and anybody who doesn’t understand our hatred of that music at the time wasn’t trying to make his living playing live rock-n-roll. To top that off, we were some decidedly very un-funky white boys! It’s funny how I listen to that stuff (disco) now and get all nostalgic for that era. I guess it was just the time in my life.

I started making a name for myself, if not for my guitar playing then for my crazy stage antics. I taped the shit out of my guitar cord and would slide on my knees across the stage until it would jerk me to a stop. I liked to get out in the crowd and walk on the tables. It got to be a thing at our gigs to see where and how I would fall and almost kill myself. One night at this place called Across the Tracks down near Memphis State I jumped out on a table and one of the boards in it was loose and came up and smacked me in the face and down to the floor I went. I thought I was gonna pass out, but I kept playing somehow. People love to watch idiots!

When we were playing the "B" (and sometimes "D" and "F!") bars in town, I kept hearing about this band named Southern Creed that played all the time at Aligapos. I asked somebody about them, and was told, "Yeah, I don't like 'em much. They're the loudest, dirtiest, nastiest, drinkingest band in town." I thought that sounded pretty cool to me. A while later I was in Buntyn's diner having the plate lunch special with a friend. The waitresses there were all older ladies like you mother or aunty, and one of them was haranguing some hapless hippie in one of the booths. She was saying, "Look at you! Why don't you try waking up before you come in here? And can't you comb your hair? You'd by a nice lookin' boy if you'd just take better care of yourself!" I asked my friend who the guy was. "Steve Ingle, guitarist for Creed."

Well, about that time Southern Creed was a pretty popular band, actually the second most popular in town close on the heels of Target, whose singer was Jimmy Jamison who later went on to fame singin' in that fab group Survivor. I went to see them at Aligapos, which had become Club Kizer since their manager Bobby Kizer bought the place. Bobby is probably the single most un-fucking-believable character I have ever met. Bobby Kizer stories could fill an entire web site, and they are so outlandish that it would be hard to discern the truth from the myth! Anyway, the night I went there it was rumored that Southern Creed had landed a record deal and were set for the big time. I just remember they were rockin' like crazy men. Nothing but energy, booze, and available girls. I remember thinking I could dig a mess o' that!

Okay, let's stop right here for a second.  I recently received the following email, and I would like to ask you to indulge me in reading it.  Does this sound like a threat to you?  



As I am such a pansy easily-threatened guy, and as I always strive above all to retain my political correctness in this "Brave" New World, I have decided to comply with the above request and re-word my ill-advised attempt at reporting history.  Read on, please..

I eventually got to know Steve a little bit, and when their other guitarist WAS ABDUCTED BY ALIENS, I was asked to join the band. It was a no-brainer for me, as I was churning like crazy in the clubs not really getting anywhere. It was one of those doors that opened and I stepped through it. Creed didn’t bring me world-wide fame and fortune, of course, but playing with those guys gave me the experience and chops that would serve me well in the years to come. But being on top of the scene in Memphis was no small thing!

I thoroughly enjoyed working with Steve Ingle. Not only that, we became fast friends. He was best man when I got married in 1986. Steve is one of the few guitarists I like working with in that we not only complimented but also would push each other during the night to places that would surprise even us. And Steve was such a great singer that he would leave just a bit more guitar work for me so I wouldn't get complacent! He is also a natural songwriter, and I am glad that more of his stuff from that period exists on tape and vinyl than mine since it is so superior. I was a real fledgling, lemme tell ya. I'm Not in Love, I'm in Heat...UGH! Don't play me any of that crap, it's so embarrassing! If you can find the Creed 4-song EP called Believe It!, have a listen to Wrong Time and I Know Better Now and you'll see what I mean. Pure power pop at it's best. Steve's singing is incredible and you'll have no trouble telling his solos from mine...they're the good ones!

Creed gigs. You just had to be there! Those that read this and were know what I'm talking about. Part of it was the times. You have to remember that the drinking age was 18 then, and there was no big stigma with DUI, meaning that there would be hot-to-trot 15 year-old girls walking around blasted out of their minds on liquor and Quaaludes, which were also in vogue and plentiful at the time. And wherever you have a load and a half of available babes means you have at least twice that many horny guys hanging out, getting fucked up beyond belief, and hoping to score some trim before the night was over. All the girls were there wanting to screw the band, and we tried as hard as we could to get around to them all. Ladies, if we missed you, we're sorry! It was only due to lack of time...

The other part was Creed itself. The band was a powerhouse, pure and simple. I remember being blown away before I got in it. The guitarist whom I replaced was once one bad mofo, scorching southern-fried licks through a powder blue Les Paul driven through a Rio Grande stack, like Billy Gibbons used to have. When he WAS ABDUCTED BY ALIENS, Steve Ingle, although never in the shadows by any means, took the lead and made the band run. Hal was a very, very good rock keyboardist and front man, lean and darkly good-looking like Jim Morrison, his hero. Drummer Chip Thomas was a visual pounder, fun to watch flailing away behind the biggest kit money could buy. James Flynn, the bass player, was low-key and solid with the bottom pouring out of his big ol' Gibson Thunderbird. Now, toss me in on top of all this with my nappy head whipping around and my energetic stage persona, and I think we were one top-notch band.

I stayed with Creed for about five years. During that time we did some serious road work, as well as remaining one of the most if not the most popular band in Memphis. We put out a four-song EP that had some good stuff on it, and when we decided to pack it in during that once-ominous year of 1984 we had the biggest going-out party ever. All the guys still live in the Memphis area and are involved in music in one way or another. I am proud to have played with them.

It was time for me to move on. But to where? "Go West, young man!" So I did. Dallas, here I come!

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