Charlie Feathers
Rockabilly Rhythm!

Detroit, 2013...

Cinema sometimes gives satisfactions...

It's the hour of the vampires, and here are two in a dark apartment, but more than vampires, they seem like rock stars...

Floating and hyper-aesthetic beings...

And the apartment is not an apartment, but a sort of mausoleum, a bric-a-brac...

The vampire leaves the chessboard, takes an old forty-five, and puts it on...

“Do you remember Charlie Feathers?”

The riff starts, swaggering, magical, a shadow dragging a shadow...

The vampiress hints at a movement, then smiles...

“Oh yes, I remember, “Can't hardly stand it,” 1956...

Again: sometimes cinema gives satisfactions.

….

1973, Chicago, Glassfinger studios...

There's a guy asleep on the couch. His name is Charlie Feathers, and if he seems like an ordinary guy, it's only because his eyes are closed.

And anyway, it's a good thing he's asleep, otherwise he'd launch into the usual spiel, like I taught Elvis everything, and Buddy, and Carl, and Jerry Lee.

Nothing strange, one of the tricks to endure life is to tell it to yourself, and preferably tell it well. Besides, apart from the kicks in the ass, there aren't many real things. The hospital, maybe. And maybe the street too.

Who was that guy who said the street is a “cosmic conspiracy” set up to spark imagination? Well, who remembers anymore?

In any case, in the hospital, the radio always played Hank Williams, and on the street...

On the street, there were all those musicians....

The other real things are having left school at ten and home at sixteen, having met the barber's son, someone who would become a rather hypnotic blues man.

Not having been kissed by the gods like Elvis or bitten by a snake like Jerry Lee. Having scrambled through the sixties but still continued with the music.

Anyway, now Charlie is asleep...

However, there's a change in the room, and it's like what happens before an epileptic attack...

The things around you change taste, smell, color...

...

Imola, the noughties, park of Acque Minerali.

Location: bench in the sun facing the duck pond. Occupation: reading a music magazine. There's an interview with the Cramps, with Lux Interior paying homage to Charlie Feathers.

Charlie, Lux says, was “one of those who sing like wolves.” Exactly, Lux!!! Feathers was exactly like that!!!

But not only a wolf. Also a turkey, a hen, a frog. In “Uh Uh Honey,” he sounds like Donald Duck.

And at this last thought, all the ducks in the pond take flight...

...

Memphis 1955...

You've been at Sun Records for a while.

You've done it all, the session player, the ghostwriter, the coffee. You've even had a hand in the B-side of Elvis's first forty-five.

Now it should be your turn, right?

Okay. No rockabilly though, Sam sees you as a country singer, and he's someone who's never missed a beat.

So, country it is...

“I've been deceived” is very fragrant and floats like a lazy little boat. The sounds come in and out of the water, and the voice seems always on the verge of breaking....

Once again, Sam was right. The problem is he only saw one part. So to make rockabilly, you have to move to King Records.

And at King, your rockabilly will be the rhythmic beat waiting for the voice's leap. With the emotional falsetto rising to the treehouse, then digging underground in search of treasure.

Do you remember the bounce of a magic ball?

...

1973, Chicago, Glassfinger studios...

You're there sleeping, and at some point, your soul goes for a stroll. For a while, you flutter lightly, then suddenly you notice your own body. “Is that really me on the couch?” Well, it's not strange that you find it hard to believe, to the soul, the real seems only the reflection of a bad mirror.

Yet, yes, it's really you, you're Charlie Feathers, burnt-out rocker, poor knight, king without a crown, someone with a lot of art and very little part.

Not only that, you can't help but notice that little stain on the left shoe, it might seem like nothing, but it's like driving a nail into the wall of sadness.

But all this lasts only a moment, so you resume fluttering, and you feel like you've never felt before, actually no, once you felt like this, and it was when the barber's son taught you the rudiments of the guitar. The difference now is that it's not you playing the music; it's playing you.

But now it's time to return to the body, and it's also time for that body to wake up. Charlie's kids are arriving, and this is a record that's played all in the family.

And so yes, Charlie wakes up, but there's no usual fog around him, he wears a kind of energy and wonder. From afar, he hears the voices of Bubba and Wanda. There's only one thing left to do before going on stage: take a cloth and wipe that damn stain off the shoe.

…

1981...

Okay, the album recorded in '73 finally comes out.

But things have changed; you're not a Mr. Nobody, but a cult figure, not just Lux and Poison, but also Tav Falco and Alan Vega. In short, all those young wolves.

The album is splendid. There's no drum, but it feels like there are five. And it's so fresh it sounds like it was recorded live.

Tap along to the beat of the first track, listen to how the voice comes in, I guarantee you'll feel better immediately.

And anyway, our guy dedicates himself to what he does best, which is mixing things up, with Rockabilly, country, and blues in magical balance.

A mix of fatalism and arrogance. Hank Williams and Elvis in the same person...

Ps: other recommended records, a good anthology, absolutely necessary for someone who mostly went on 45s, and “Tip top daddy” to explore his more country side...

Trallallà...