lector
20 sep 18
DeRank ™: 35,27
Stories That Should Be Told (4) Jim Ford Jim Ford - Go Through Sunday
Nick Lowe couldn't believe it: they had found Jim Ford after all these years and asked him to do a concert with him! Nick considered Ford one of his greatest inspirations, but it had been at least 20 years since anyone had heard anything about him.
Yet, straddling the '60s and '70s, Jim Ford had written songs for people like Aretha Franklin, Bobby Womack, the Temptationsā¦ Tracks like "Nikey Hokey" or "Harry Hippie" that had topped the charts, and Sly Stone would name him among his favorite musicians.
Jim was one of those white guys who were born white by mistake, someone like Bobby Charles or Dan Penn (I hope for your sake you know who I'm talking about).
And he wasn't just a great songwriter; he was also a fantastic singer. But he managed to record only one album, "Harlan County," one of those beautiful secrets hidden among the mountains of useless records released every year.
A splendid album.
Funky Country, Jim called it, which is like saying "chocolate eggplants," a phrase that sounds awful but try eating them near Sorrento, and then we'll talkā¦
But Jim got lostācocaine, stories of absurd parties, women, strange friendships, exploitersā¦ In short, Jim spent all his royalty money. He reappeared in the '90s for a few concerts and then vanished.
In 2006, a Swedish journalist, L.P. Anderson, tracked him down in a trailer in Southern California, where he had lived with Gene Clarkās widow. He had cleaned up from drugs and found Jesus.
Anderson flew to him and retrieved a lot of new material which would be added to a luxurious new version of "Harlan County" that Light in the Attic would soon release.
It was decided to launch the album with a big concert somewhere near London; Jim was astonished, didnāt quite believe it but agreed. Nick Lowe was contacted and eagerly accepted.
But Nick, on that stage, would wait in vain. A few weeks later, the sheriff of Mendocino, called by some locals, entered a strangely still trailer with the doors open. Inside lay Jimās body; he had just turned 66 and had died in his sleep. Calm, smiling, tranquilāperhaps he was dreaming of a concert with some old friends.
Nick Lowe couldn't believe it: they had found Jim Ford after all these years and asked him to do a concert with him! Nick considered Ford one of his greatest inspirations, but it had been at least 20 years since anyone had heard anything about him.
Yet, straddling the '60s and '70s, Jim Ford had written songs for people like Aretha Franklin, Bobby Womack, the Temptationsā¦ Tracks like "Nikey Hokey" or "Harry Hippie" that had topped the charts, and Sly Stone would name him among his favorite musicians.
Jim was one of those white guys who were born white by mistake, someone like Bobby Charles or Dan Penn (I hope for your sake you know who I'm talking about).
And he wasn't just a great songwriter; he was also a fantastic singer. But he managed to record only one album, "Harlan County," one of those beautiful secrets hidden among the mountains of useless records released every year.
A splendid album.
Funky Country, Jim called it, which is like saying "chocolate eggplants," a phrase that sounds awful but try eating them near Sorrento, and then we'll talkā¦
But Jim got lostācocaine, stories of absurd parties, women, strange friendships, exploitersā¦ In short, Jim spent all his royalty money. He reappeared in the '90s for a few concerts and then vanished.
In 2006, a Swedish journalist, L.P. Anderson, tracked him down in a trailer in Southern California, where he had lived with Gene Clarkās widow. He had cleaned up from drugs and found Jesus.
Anderson flew to him and retrieved a lot of new material which would be added to a luxurious new version of "Harlan County" that Light in the Attic would soon release.
It was decided to launch the album with a big concert somewhere near London; Jim was astonished, didnāt quite believe it but agreed. Nick Lowe was contacted and eagerly accepted.
But Nick, on that stage, would wait in vain. A few weeks later, the sheriff of Mendocino, called by some locals, entered a strangely still trailer with the doors open. Inside lay Jimās body; he had just turned 66 and had died in his sleep. Calm, smiling, tranquilāperhaps he was dreaming of a concert with some old friends.
DeBaser says
right now