In time I will miss his music. Today I miss him.Jay was a genius and quite likely the greatest guitarist of our generation. He was definitely the most talented and amazing guitarist I have ever seen (and I am to this day stunned he took it upon himself to allow my rudimentary talents to intertwine with his brilliance for the year-and-a-half or so we lived and played together). I honestly believe Titanic Love Affair's "No Charisma" and Steve Pride & His Blood Kin's "Pride on Pride" are every bit as remarkable as anything he did with Wilco.
I miss him and his stupid habit for crapping everything up with his ketchup packets, cigarette butts and those awful, stinky turtles. I miss his crooked, gatemouth smile and cracking-voice cackle. I miss his habit of hugging everybody. Hell, I even miss carrying his damn amp for him all the time right now.
In recent months Jay had gone on occasional jags of emailing me intensely. He told me he thought the year we played with Steve may very well have been the most purely joyous time of making music he had ever had. He reminisced about our penchant for rehearsing for hours and hours several days a week and how the camaraderie we shared filled him with contentment. He even spoke of wanting to look to reuniting the band some day for some shows.
He also queried as to my lot in life, the dynamic I had with my ex-wife and what my life was like with my children. He was warm and funny and I knew at some point he would retreat to his lair and I might never hear from him again.
A few weeks ago my son, Will, and I were dropping of Mike Rader at his home - in the same Buena Vista Court group of housing in which Jay resided - after an Illini baseball game and we say Jay pulling out. Jay did not seem to recognize us, however, Will (who has a picture of himself as an infant being held by a grinning, disheveled Bennett) got a good look at him. When we walked into our house Will spoke not of the game or his day, but immediately gushed in a star-struck tone rarely heard from a 12-year-old who just saw one of his father's friends, "We saw Jay Bennett!"
I am grateful Lars, Ken, Mike and Leroy were here with us yesterday. I wonder if years from now those who were hear sharing food and drink and stories and tears will think back at how the sun-drenched day was briefly interrupted by a shower once all had arrived.
Godspeed, my friend.
The SP&HBK band photo (final line-up with Michael Hazelrigg) was taken somewhere in the middle of Iowa on the way home from playing - by special request - at a friend of my brother's wedding. The first dance was "Ripple" and at the request of the bride's grandmother Jay sat down at the piano and sang one of the most heartfelt versions of Anne Murray's "Can I Have This Dance (for the Rest of My Life)?" anyone in the room will ever likely hear. It was a beautiful thing.
http://www.youtube.com/user/JHamm10137
15 comments:
I have a lot I can say. After "I Am Trying To Break Your Heart" came out, I wrote Jay an email. I was a music journalist at the time and was in contact with his publicist. I wanted him to know, in so many words, that he was one of the only true musicians that I have ever known. I wanted him to take that to heart and really feel it. Right after high school, I lived with two people off of Green Street in those dippy high-rise apartments. Jay was teaching my roommate how to play guitar. She had a collossal crush on him; it was indeed a Titanic Love Affair, at least on her side of it. But Jay... well, he just seemed married to his guitar and his music. I had never seen someone that focused. He didn't pay any attention to me, which only made him more James Dean-y to me. Before that summer, I had seen him tutoring math students at UHS. I remember thinking, dang, this guy is both right and left brained. As the years went on and I spent more and more time with the guys from TLA, Jay was still a bit of a stranger to me. I was intimidated, too, which didn't facilitate much of a friendship. Then one day, at Eddies, he said "Hey, Drew..." because he said I looked like Drew Barrymore. I turned about 17 shades of red and shuffled off, flattered of course. From then on he always called me Drew. I moved to California, and was happy to see that he had joined Wilco. His records with them are still their very best. I remember thinking that Tweedy knew how to spot the talent. When I wrote my email to Jay after seeing the film, I said that a lot of Chambana people were in bands to be big fishies in little bitty ponds, but that Jay was in it because it was in his blood. He wasnt just in a band, he was an artist. After he got my email, he wrote me back with his phone number and said I should call him. That we could talk about the old days. I was too shy so I never did. Then he came to San Francisco, and he emailed me, wanting to hang out, but I was too shy. He will forever be Urbana's answer to James Dean to me. I will miss him.
Yeah...Don and Katy have said a lot. I just remember when we had
Wilco in town back in 1995'ish,
Jay was the only one who came over
to be on The Web (WEBX)...and we
spent an hour on the air together.
He was great. Seemed like her
really cared to be there. That
was my one in-person encounter,
other than seeing him play. But
there's been a lot of great music
along the way. Y'all are right
about it being in his blood.
I met Jay at a party in Urbana in 1986, when he was playing with his band (whose name, I can't believe it, I've forgotten). The band was pretty much a party/cover band and shed no light on what he was to create later. It didn't matter. Over beer after beer, and as people came and left the conversation, we pretty much talked about the entire Clash catalogue, the shame of their then-recent demise, how unfortunate we were to be living now in a Clash-free era, and whether Joe Strummer or Mick Jones would prove to be the better song writer. Then it was 4 a.m., and we parted ways, sort of. He was dating someone who lived with someone I was to date for a few weeks, and our paths crossed a lot over the next two years. After that, I'd see him sporadically, in Chicago, then later in NYC. The last time I say him he was visiting my friend Lisa B. (how H.), and we chatted a bunch. Again, we spoke about the Clash, the death of Joe Strummer, and that was it. He was always a musician I admired though one whose career I did not follow as intently as I followed others. He was someone I knew whose heart was in the right place and had the chops to prove it.
What was that bang? It was the next big thing...
The first time I laid eyes on Jay was open mic night at the Alley Cat...he and Leroy sang 'I Don't Need This Pressure Ron' and it blew me away. Jay was a big bang that exploded on the UI music scene...everyone wanted to play like him, make music with him, just be around him. I have so many memories of seeing him play, or hanging at parties where he was always at the center of some sort of giddy mischief. My fondest memory of Jay was about 10 years ago when Billy Bragg played Park West, right after Mermaid Avenue came out. Jay and another Wilco guy got up to sing some Woody Guthrie songs with Billy, who introduced him as "that lovable madman Jay Bennett." After the show I was walking out and there was Jay, calling out my name with a huge grin, ready to give me a big bear hug. It was the last time I saw him.
I first met Jay at a party at my house sometime in 1988, I think. I remember we talked for the better part of a half-hour about the awesomeness of Soul Asylum. After that, I remember him being a bit of a puzzle. I knew him only a little, and that might be a stretch: our respective girlfriends at the time were friends and the four of us would sometimes hang out. One minute he'd be shy, reserved. Maybe even skeptical. A minute later, gregarious and eager. The next time I'd see him, it seemed he'd scarcely remember who I was. We could bump into each other a month on and he'd stop and chat like we were old friends.
The predictable way I knew Jay, though, was like most everyone who didn't know him personally --- a group I figure I actually belong to --- and that was through his musical brilliance. Lush and full and sad and, well, brilliant. It's easy, I suppose, to talk about Wilco, but I tend to look at that band's history as having three distinct eras: Before Jay, During Jay, and After Jay. I think I've listed to Summerteeth about a billion times today. No Charisma, too.
In any case, his untimely death leaves a hole for so many.
I was so saddened to hear of Jay's situation when I arrived in C-U on Friday. The final outcome is to unbelievable. I wish he knew how many people cared about him and how many lives he touched. Lovely tribute Don. R.I.P. Jay!
Unfortunately I never did get to know Jay but I sensed that he was an intense & genuine person whose loss will be felt by many. Thank you, Don, for your tribute, & for all of the thoughtful comments.
I first met Jay in late 1981 when we were both students at the U of I and answered an ad for a heavy metal 4 piece being formed by some local guys (Nasty Rastus). I could tell right away that Jay had it going on, his playing was phenomenal and we both liked the way the group was sounding. After working up a set of original material, things caved in as the lead singer/songwriter apparently had a religious conversion. Jay and I each moved on to other groups, but bumped into each other over the following years as we completed school. I got involved in a group that set up a small studio, and gave Jay access to it to record some originals for his then party group, The Rebel Ducks. I still have the 1/2 inch 8 track reels from that session, and promised Jay to get them to him, or pull the tracks for him, at each of the few times I would see him later through the years. We never managed to connect for this and I really regret that now.
I'm always amazed at the various musical directions Jay was able to master. As others have been saying, he was a true, uncompromising musical soul, and the world, let alone the midwest, has lost a unique artistic voice.
Jay was first and foremost a musician. As Katy said, "married to his guitar and his music." I think that focus is what impressed me the most about him when I would run into him from time to time at gigs or parties. He didn't play the game. He didn't seem to care about all the politics going on around him. He just was. And, he was always nice to me and seemed nice to others around him. The few times I ever spoke to him he was never arrogant, or wishing he was talking to someone else, or casing the room. He just accepted whatever the world brought to him in each moment. He struck me as a good hearted soul who just loved, absolutely loved, making music. There are very few people in the world like him and I'm so very sorry he's gone. Cheers Jay.
Hey, Don!
A couple of years ago, my former college U of I roommate and I went to see "I Am Trying To Break Your Heart". Knowing Jay as I did, I have to say that it was hard for me to watch; understanding how much music was a part of Jay and how hard it must have been to see the train-wreck that was his leaving Wilco coming and have it happen… and documented in a movie, no less! But it was strangely comforting to me to know that Jay was back in C-U making great music with someone. It’s just so frickin’ sad that that’s no longer the case!
My favorite memory of Jay was when he and I and a couple other people packed into his girlfriend at the time, Nikki’s, tiny little car to go see a band (I think it was the Replacements) in Springfield. I was dating Nikki’s friend Kathy, so we all drove up together. Jay brought a crappy acoustic guitar, but the back seat was so cramped with three of us that we could only play it with me fingering the left hand and Jay strumming. Somehow we managed to bang out a few songs including a Billy Brag song that we both knew and somehow managed not to sound too bad… at least that’s how I remembered it. :)
As I’m sure many do, I am proud to have known Jay. For me, Jay will always be the quintessential image of Summer beer-soaked, music-filled, youthful days.
To all you who knew him best: Kenny, Don, Lars, and the whole gang, my heart and thoughts are with you!
Phil Lawrence
P.S. Don, if you ever get a chance, drop me a line: pwl@illinoisalumni.org. Yes, I still have some tapes of “Big Black Truck”… probably even with sound run by Jay…
Hi Don,
That was a wonderul tribute. I didn't know Jay. But I saw you guys (Steve Pride) a couple of times and was floored by Jay's playing then. I want to pay a bit of tribute to you, Steve, and Pat, too, though. That was great stuff and a pleasure to remember.
Don, thanks for the insightful reflection on the Jay that many of us did not know. Your thoughts, along with the other recounts that have been published across the country during this last week, have given me a better awareness and understanding of the guy I would talk to on occasion when he lived with Amy while I was dating her. He was a determined artist blessed with a rare musical gift and, as the multitude of responses have shown, he will be missed. R.I.P.
Right. I felt there was a time when I was a good friend of Jay's. For a while we hung out fairly regularly and shared a couple of intense experiences. Then as it so often goes, we drifted apart with different priorities. Still, I was able to reconnect with him every time I saw or talked to him, and I feel better for having known him. A few of my Jay stories are over here:
http://skateandannoy.com/?p=12494
Nice rreflection as usual Don.
George? Is that MR Paswell?
Don,
Thanks for the reminiscences. And thanks for stopping by my blog, too.
Also: If you haven't read Katy's note at SFWeekly.com, it was really touching, too. Here:
www.sfweekly.com/2009-06-03/music/jay-bennett-breaks-a-heart/
And thanks to all those who left comments here. I hope Jay had some inkling of how much he was loved.
I am still nowhere near finished grieving Jay's passing, but I also know that he wouldn't want us to keep on for too long.
take care, and, if I may:
love,
Scout
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