Then all of us standing around and watching Audie cut a rug with Lynie to “In the Mood.”
And serious as shit, those two could dance.
Lost art, the swing dance.
Mom smiling at them, clapping and stepping foot to foot, wanting so bad to dive right in, and Preach seeing that, goin’ up to her, and he had no clue what he was doin’, but he gave Mom a whirl.
Penny laughin’ at just about everything, especially that.
That was the best party I’d ever been to in my life until that point, man.
[Smiles]
Bar none.
[Off tape]
Are you all right?
[Focuses]
Light and dark, sister.
Sorry?
Those were the good days.
Within months, Audie would no longer be able to cover up the early signs of dementia he was experiencing. In no time, he had full-blown Alzheimer’s. That next year, Lynie had a bad stroke and she was never the same.
[Shakes head]
Girls eventually had to sell that property.
Audie got so bad, no one could take care of him and he died in a nursing home. That right there gutted all three of those women. He died three times for them. When his mind went, when they had to let someone else look after him and when they finally lost him.
Coupla months after we lost him, Lynie had her third stroke and died in assisted living.
Losing them, Lyla never really recovered.
The foundation of her life, the whole of it, was swept away.
By then, they were his family too. From day one, Lynie treated him like a son, but more, Audie had started doing that before he got sick, and after he did, he forgot Preacher wasn’t his son.
Preacher had never really let anyone be a father to him.
Save Audie.
So, Preacher didn’t recover either.
Jesse:
When Preacher and Tommy fired Josh from the band, the label scrambled to get someone to fill in for him on keys while we were on the road.
No one really worked, and down the eastern seaboard and across the south, we had four of ’em.
It’s an overused joke, but it is because that’s the way bands go and straight up, we thought our keyboard player was gonna be like the drummer of Spinal Tap.
[Laughs]
Bobby tried to get rid of us nearly the entirety of that tour, but only gig we didn’t play was New Orleans because Preacher refused to do it.
He didn’t even let the bus driver drive through that state.
We had to drive around Louisiana to get to Texas.
Kid you not.
Next gig after that was Dallas, and maybe something about being close to home jogs his brain…
But Preach comes down to the band breakfast the morning after the gig and says, “I have an idea.”
There are two things I know in this world Preacher was down to have from Louisiana.
Cajun food, which he consumed with a relish that was downright frightening anytime he could get his hands on it. After which he would review it like he was a goddamn food critic, and I’ll tell you what. Unless the chef was a transplant from that state, it was never good enough.
And Preacher could call that. He could call authentic Cajun cuisine, no joke.
[Smiles slowly]
And the second thing was anyone from the Family Williams.
Including DuShawn.
Shawn could play just about anything, but he was best on horns and piano.
And DuShawn’s granddaddy taught Preacher how to play guitar.
[Off tape]
Band lore is that the Williams family virtually raised McCade.
[Stares steadily]
They were neighbors.
When Preacher’s baby brother died, DuShawn’s momma saw how that went down, and yeah. That woman went in.
But you be a black woman in the seventies in the south and try to take over the raising of a white boy.
They allowed it when they felt like using her.
And they slapped her back in ugly ways when they didn’t.
But Loretta Williams…
[Shakes head]
The woman she was.
She kept coming back for more.
DuShawn had had some troubles.
Did some jailtime.
Because of all that, it took Tom a while to track him down.
When he did, we were heading west, and Lyla was going to be with us for spring break.
The bus had just rolled into Denver and all Preacher can think about is getting his ass off it, getting in the limo that was waiting and getting to Stapleton to pick up Lyla, who didn’t arrive for another two hours.
[Laughs]
But there’s this big black guy, hair tapered, red tracksuit, he strolls up to Preach, man.
[Shakes head, grinning]
Security that’s there for us jumps to and there’s this booming, “Don’t touch me, dude.”
Preach looks toward that voice and fuck.
[Smiles largely]
First time I ever felt jealous, sister.
It was either that the foundation of the band was all about Preacher, and Shawn’s daddy and granddaddy taught Preacher everything they knew.
Or it was just that this guy was insanely talented, and he’d fill the bill for anybody.
But for our set in Denver, we not only had the keyboard set up, we had a grand piano rolled out.
During soundcheck, DuShawn sat in.
Then he played that gig with us.
And yeah.
Right then.
History, sister.
The real Roadmasters were born.
[Off tape]
Why didn’t McCade draft Williams in the beginning?
Because he’d done a nickel for grand theft auto.
Even when he suggested him, Preacher didn’t know if he’d be available.
He was in touch with the family, but we’ll just say, DuShawn was working out issues.
As you know, Williams contends he did not steal that car.
[Shakes head]
You’re young, sister, but I think you know, bein’ black just about anywhere, be it in the seventies, eighties, nineties, fuckin’ now, don’t matter you didn’t do it.
You fit the bill, say, you’re black…
You don’t have the cash to hire a decent lawyer…
You’re goin’ down.
DuShawn, well…
His daddy, Oscar, his granddaddy, Buddy, they were quiet legends in the biz.
They recorded, had mad respect, not a lot of commercial success, but everyone who heard their records, saw them play, knew they were the real deal.
Back then, there were a lot of real deals.
Think about this.
Every bona-fide new genre of music that has come out of the US of A had African American roots.
Jazz. Blues. Hip hop.
And rock ’n’ roll.
Who are popularly thought of as the greatest rock ’n’ roll acts of all time?
Elvis Presley, the Beatles and the Rolling Stones.
Now tell me, sister.
What’s wrong with that picture?
Now I’ll tell you something.
Those hip-hop guys, they got it right.
That genre is black.
I’m not sayin’ there are no good white hip-hop artists.
I’m sayin’ that genre is black.
Period. Dot.
And of course, everyone thinks they’re all thugs.
It’s gotta be reduced. The messages they send, the slurs were bound to come, especially when those men held on to what they made and did not let go.
And those slurs came, and they keep coming. Because what a black man, or a black woman, has to say has gotta be degraded or the worst is gonna happen.
People will start listening.
Not just black people.
All people.
And then all hell will break loose.
You gotta think that to keep the twisted shit in your head copasetic? You think that.
Think they’re all thugs.
Those guys’ll show you a thug.
Do you some real damage.
They’ll throw their wallets at you.
I hope they stay sleepin’.
I hope they remain in their cocoons and think they got the upper hand.
’Cause there’s only one thing more powerful than words.
And that’s money.
So, they think they got it under control to keep their fists tight around the throats of those they’ve been strangling since recorded time. They think this is not a threat to that power they wield…
You put one with the other, money and message.
And you got a revolution.
Google it, sister.
What genre of music is being consumed the most right now?
[Lifts chin]
Higher than pop. Higher than rock.
Hip hop.
And Kendrick wins a Pulitzer Prize.
[Taps finger firmly on the chair]
That is a revolution.
[Clears throat, shifts in seat]
Gettin’ back to the matter at hand, Preach also didn’t go to Shawn in the beginning because he didn’t know if Shawn would say yes.
His father and grandfather were jazz and blues musicians. Shawn was brought up in that, and I hope you’ve heard some of his solo stuff. He was serious as fuck good at it.
Then Preacher asked, and lucky for us, he said yes.
[Off tape]
It is now known that McCade’s mother and father had something to do with Williams’s arrest.
[Sits back, takes time to answer]
All I gotta say about that is, when a white man points a finger, doesn’t matter he’s trash, he’s white. He’s got clout. And if he’s pointing a finger at a black man…
[Shrugs]
I have not been privy to the arrest records, court documents. Self-preservation, man. I know I read that shit, I’ll lose my mind.
But like I said, when the McCades were done with the Williamses lookin’ after their boy, they had ugly ways to slap them back.
Just sayin’, Preacher did not avoid that state because he ain’t a proud Cajun.
He is.
I think he missed that part of him every day and mourned not having it like someone passing.
But he had his reasons.
And they were damn good ones.
Second taste with jealousy, by the end of her spring break, Lyla a lot of the time could be found sitting, curled up in DuShawn’s lap, whispering and giggling.
[Laughs]
He was a ladies’ man, our Shawn.
[Shakes head]
Though, you know it wasn’t like that.
He was Preacher’s.
And she was Preacher’s.
It sucks to say, because he’s my brother, but they’re the two people who loved that man the most in the world.
And the only two reasons I’m down with sayin’ that is because I was person number three.
And I’m glad he had that.
Especially from those first two people.
[Head twitches and clears throat]
Hell, all three.
We get done with the tour in June, we barely set our suitcases down, the label wants us back in the studio.
Now, you gotta know, Lyla in his life, meeting Audie and Lynie, getting Jules back for her, having DuShawn in the band, Preacher’s put pen to paper.
Tim’s writing too, and so am I, and it’s good shit we all could work.
So, we got an album we could lay down.
But we’re tired.
[Laughs for a long time]
I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s funny.
[Sobers but is still smiling largely]
Me sayin’ we were tired.
We would not know what tired was until we did tours where we had to fly over oceans and the tour lasted two years.
Press conferences.
Filming videos.
Interviews.
Photo shoots.
But we’d shot the video for “Give Then Take” before we went on tour with the Mustangs.
And during that tour, we had two breaks. One where we shot videos back to back for “The Back of You” and “Night Lies,” the other one was Christmas.
So really, we’d only had one break.
Time before that is studio.
Time before that, you know.
So, yeah.
We were tired.
We just didn’t know the real meaning of tired.
Those labels, though, they know, and Tommy wasn’t dumb.
Part of it, they were pushing because we were making them money and they wanted to strike again while the iron was hot.
Part of it, hair bands are dying, Guns ’n’ Roses has got a hold, and they’re huge, but they’re about to implode.
You got rap that’s about to become known as hip hop which is about to take over the world and grunge percolating in Seattle, [grins] pun intended.
In five years, you’re gonna go from George Michael to TLC to Kurt Cobain taking his own life. Green Day and Beyoncé are about to become artists claimed by two different generations.
Shit is about to get real in the music industry.
And we’d carved out our own niche, man.
It was us who had to fill it.
We got one album and we’ve not even headlined our own tour.
We gotta grab hold. We gotta grow our fanbase. We gotta stay relevant.
And the labels knew that.
So did Tommy.
[Off tape]
The stories in your songs were about to do a complete reversal. Your next three albums would solidify your place in the music industry, go on to be critical and commercial successes, but they weren’t dark like the first. Was the band worried about that?
You’re an idiot, you let something loose for public consumption and don’t worry how the public is going to feel about consuming it.
Especially the people who put you where you are.
But the bottom line was, that first album was honest. It was real.
And we weren’t the same band we were when those songs were written and recorded.
The songs we recorded on Like a Desperation, Audie and Lynie Live On and Some Like Yesterday Better Than Today, Wait for Tomorrow were the same as Night Lies. They were about where the band was at.
And where Preacher was at.
I mean, you heard the story just now, but you already probably knew where “Trench Coat” came from. That came out and it hit number two.
Yes, but Hardy had already outed Lyla as McCade’s and The Clinch had been published. By the time that song was released, Lyla was becoming known and stories about her were circulating relatively widely.
[Interviewer’s Note]
The Clinch is how the photograph is known of McCade and Lyla taken during a Roadmasters sound check at the Salt Lake City gig when they were opening for Bobby Sheridan and the Mustangs.
A reporter from String magazine was there with a photographer ostensibly to do a story on Sheridan, but mostly to get a closer look at what was happening between the Mustangs and the Roadmasters.
This last was never directly shared with the Mustangs or the Roadmasters, and as far as the Roadmasters knew, String was not there with any interest in them at all.
The photo, now so famous as to be synonymous with the pair, depicts McCade and Lyla embracing onstage behind his mic. His guitar is at a slant at his back. Her arms are around his neck. Her body is arched to his. And both of his hands are cupping her buttocks.
The kiss is blatantly sensual, McCade’s head at a slant all but hiding Lyla’s face, but their opened mouths, the placement of his hands, the line of her body and her fingers in his hair paint a stirring picture.
None of the band knew a photographer was at their sound check, the photograph was published witho
ut knowledge or consent from McCade or Lyla, and the article it ran with included the first mention of Lyla as muse to McCade and the Roadmasters.
It is common knowledge Preacher McCade flew into a fury when this photograph was published, and as such, to this day, McCade nor any of the Roadmasters have ever allowed an interview with String magazine and that publication is banned from their press conferences.
Not long after its publication, however, both the photographer and reporter were terminated from the magazine and both contend their terminations were the machinations of Tom Mancosa.
Jesse:
Yeah, precisely. That’s what I’m sayin’.
The Clinch came out and that was where the band was at.
We did not make a decision for those albums, discussing if we wanted to try to fake it, go back to where we were and try to feed lies to our fans because we think that’s what they wanna hear.
We did what we’d always done.
We stayed true to ourselves, worked with what was genuinely inspiring us and wrote the best music we knew how.
Which is what any true artist will do.
Okay, so all this is happening, we get it, but straight up, I wanna sleep in the same bed for more than a night and when I do, I don’t wanna have to haul myself out of it to pitch up at the studio.
Preach has got three months that’s nothing but Lyla.
We all want a break.
The label pushes.
We pull.
We get pissed so Tom gets pissed.
We’d only signed with our first label to do one album. We were in negotiations for the second.
This is happening, Tommy shops us around on the sly.
Gets us a deal that blows our goddamn minds.
Problem is, the new label also wants us in the studio, pronto.
Tommy asks for a month, and demands, when we get down to recording, that we work with Daniel and Hans.
He gets all that.
Everything he wants.
Everything he asks for, for the band.
And thank fuck, he gets that for us, and in the end, we delivered.
Fast Lane Page 13