I don’t remember a whole lot about our sessions, which took place at Murray Hill Studio, in Manhattan’s east thirties. I mainly recall the Chaka Khan gold records hanging on the wall. It didn’t even occur to me that Alex had once had his own framed gold records. As a kid, I’d bought a Box Tops 45, though not one of the million-sellers—instead, “Sweet Cream Ladies.” I can’t remember if I ever mentioned that to Alex, though I imagine he would have laughed—or held his nose.
• • •
As a producer, Alex was, as most groups he worked with have recalled, laissez-faire; he didn’t make too many suggestions. It was my first time in the studio (I played rhythm guitar on a Fender Mustang), and I had no idea what to expect. Later, in another band, when I worked with a more hands-on producer, I realized just how great it was having Alex there—he seemed genuinely enthused about our music, even though he was laid-back about it. He didn’t make us feel like amateurs who didn’t know what we were doing. Instead, his mellow “vibe” helped us feel relaxed and comfortable enough to sing and play fairly well, without having the jitters screw up our natural approach. His main contribution was mixing the four songs we cut. Sadly our record never came out; we went on tour, playing the same circuit as the Chilton trio, had a fight, and broke up.
Before that happened, though, Clambake performed with Alex’s trio at Folk City’s Big Combo series; avant-folkie R. Stevie Moore was also on the “three bands for three bucks” bill. Later Moore quipped about that night, “I heard him remark to the packed audience something to the effect of ‘What the hell was that first guy?’ He knew bad music when he heard it.”(In Alex’s book, it was, often enough, the badder, the better.) At load-in that evening, I realized I had forgotten my fuzz pedal, but Alex let me borrow his ’73 Buick LeSabre with the missing driver’s-side window to pick it up from our rehearsal space. He could be a generous guy.
That year, 1985, marked the beginning of a sporadic friendship between us. When I got serious as a music writer, Alex generously accepted my request in 1992 to interview him for Option—my first music profile in a national magazine. When we talked for the article, I’d just cowritten my first book, and Alex was interested in that—a volume on the creative process based on interviews with seventy-five musicians. I’d also assisted Ben Fong-Torres on his biography of Gram Parsons and had had no idea that Alex had been a GP fan since the ’60s. I gave him both books, and to my surprise, he contacted me later that year. Would I be interested in writing a book with him about his life on the road in the ’60s with the Box Tops? Before I could say “Yes!” he told me, “I’ve already got a title for it—I Slept with Charlie Manson.” That caught my attention, and I hoped it would also intrigue my literary agent and a publisher. Alas, the book never happened: In June, Alex’s brother Howard died suddenly, and the following year Alex began playing with Big Star again. I visited Alex in New Orleans, but he’d gotten too busy with other things to spend the kind of time necessary to write a book.
We never discussed the project again, though we did stay in touch. In March 1998 Alex graciously invited my husband, Robert, and me, along with our two-month-old son, Jack, into his beloved cottage in Tremé. We were giddy new parents, and he was proud to show off his own “baby.” Before we left, he gave Jack a strand of Zulu beads.
By 2004, the last time I had a lengthy conversation with Alex, I’d seen his trio numerous times, as well as the reconfigured Big Star and reunited Box Tops. One of the most special shows was the night the lights went out at the Knitting Factory in February ’97, when Alex played for about eighty of us gathered around him in the darkness—a kind of campfire singalong in Lower Manhattan. As I write, the performance has just been released as Electricity by Candlelight, and listening to it again, sixteen years later, is an emotional experience. Alex’s generosity and joy in playing an impromptu selection of songs he loved illustrates perfectly who he was as a musician—and music fan. When I hear my younger self hollering out “Waltz Across Texas” (an unheeded request), I think of all those other times I watched Alex perform my favorite songs—and even better yet, those I’d never heard before—as well as chats that led to my discovery of a cool book or record.
Alex, we never got to write that book together, but I hope this one will do. There may be some tales here you’d have preferred were left untold, but I did my best to tell your story, convey the brilliance of your artistry, and describe the complexities of your life and times. Your singular voice, the songs you wrote, the guitar lines you played, the life you lived, enriched us all.
As you once aspired to be, you truly became “a self-made man.”
Alex in his new cowboy outfit, Christmas 1956.
COURTESY OF PRIVATE COLLECTION
Alex and his father in Sidney Chilton’s home office, circa 1963.
COURTESY OF LOUISE LEFFLER
The Box Tops hanging out at the Chiltons’ (clockwise from front): John Evans, Danny Smythe, Gary Talley, Alex, Bill Cunningham, 1967.
COURTESY OF DANNY SMYTHE
Former Chilton home at 145 North Montgomery, Memphis.
PHOTOGRAPH BY HOLLY GEORGE-WARREN
An early Box Tops promo shot (from left): Talley, Cunningham, Alex, Smythe, Evans.
COURTESY OF DANNY SMYTHE
An ardent fan joins the Box Tops onstage at New York’s Cheetah club, 1967.
PHOTOGRAPH BY JAY GOOD/FRANK WHITE PHOTO AGENCY
Bell Records’ Larry Uttal, Alex, and Dan Penn at the Gold Record ceremony at Manhattan nightspot Arthur, 1968.
PHOTOGRAPH BY WILLIAM “POPSIE” RANDOLPH © MICHAEL RANDOLPH
Alex at home in Memphis with Suzi (in white bathrobe), 1969.
PHOTOGRAPH BY MICHAEL O’BRIEN
Onstage with the Box Tops in 1969.
PHOTOGRAPH BY MICHAEL O’BRIEN
Alex at Michael O’Brien’s apartment, Knoxville, 1971.
PHOTOGRAPH BY MICHAEL O’BRIEN
A Chilton family gathering at a friend’s home in Saugatuck, Connecticut, Christmas 1971. Back row (from left): Jim Russell (Cecelia Chilton’s then-husband), Mary Evelyn Chilton, Alex, Grant Weisbrot, Bob Schiffer, Vera Ellis; front row: Rex Moody (Alex’s uncle), Cecelia Chilton Russell and one-year-old Sally Russell, Annelle Moody (Mary Evelyn’s sister), Howard Chilton. Cecelia remembers that Alex and Grant played music that night, while Vera sang “D-I-V-O-R-C-E.”
COURTESY OF ROBERT SCHIFFER
Big Star writing a song for #1 Record in Alex’s bedroom (from left): Chris Bell, Andy Hummel, Alex, Jody Stephens, 1971.
PHOTOGRAPH BY MICHAEL O’BRIEN.
Big Star in the newly opened Ardent on Madison in Memphis, 1971 (from left): Chris, Andy, Jody, Alex.
PHOTOGRAPH BY MICHAEL O’BRIEN
Alex and Chris at Ardent, 1971.
PHOTOGRAPH BY MICHAEL O’BRIEN
John Fry in his new office at Ardent, 1971.
PHOTOGRAPH BY MICHAEL O’BRIEN
Big Star at the Chilton home, 1971.
PHOTOGRAPH BY MICHAEL O’BRIEN
Big Star, mach 2: Andy, Jody, and Alex, 1973.
PHOTOGRAPH BY MAUDE CLAY
Lesa Aldridge, circa 1973.
COURTESY OF ELIZABETH HOEHN
An altercation with the Memphis police outside the Chilton home (from left): Linda Schaeffer, Mary Chilton, Alex, and Lesa, 1974.
COURTESY OF ELIZABETH HOEHN
Alex on drums with the Yard Dogs—busking at the Mid-America mall, Memphis, 1978.
PHOTOGRAPH BY GORDON ALEXANDER/COURTESY OF EBET ROBERTS
During a visit to Michael O’Brien’s new home in Miami, 1976.
PHOTOGRAPH BY MICHAEL O’BRIEN
Alex debuts at the Ocean Club in New York City, with Chris Stamey (left) and Lloyd Fonoroff (obscured), February 1977.
PHOTOGRAPH BY EBET ROBERTS
Alex Chilton and the Cossac
ks at CBGB, May 1977 (from left): Fran Kowalski, Stamey, Fonoroff, Alex.
PHOTOGRAPH BY EBET ROBERTS
Alex at CBGB checking out a box of David Godlis’s photos, 1977.
PHOTOGRAPH BY GODLIS
Exploring New York in his Big Star T, 1977.
PHOTOGRAPH BY STEPHANIE CHERNIKOWSKI
Alex liberating a tile from the ceiling of the abandoned Sun Studio at 706 Union after he, Will Rigby, and Mitch Easter snuck in through the back door, 1978.
PHOTOGRAPH BY MITCH EASTER
At A&M Studios in Hollywood with Lux and Ivy mixing the Cramps’ Songs the Lord Taught Us, 1979.
PHOTOGRAPH BY DAVID ARNOFF
Panther Burns onstage at the Well, Memphis, 1979 (from left): LX Chitlin, Eric Hill, Rick Ivy, Tav Falco, Ross Johnson.
PHOTOGRAPH BY EBET ROBERTS
Panther Burns’ New York City tour, September 1979; onstage at Snafu (from left): LX, Will Rigby, Tav, Ron Miller.
PHOTOGRAPH BY EBET ROBERTS
Alex poses for publicity pictures around the release of High Priest, 1987. “He was in such a great mood that day and started duckwalking across the floor,” Ebet Roberts remembers.
PHOTOGRAPH BY EBET ROBERTS
Alex’s trio is joined by Paul Westerberg onstage at Maxwell’s, Hoboken, New Jersey, 1987.
PHOTOGRAPH BY TED BARRON
Alex and the author in the dressing room at Tramps, New York City, February 10, 1992.
PHOTOGRAPH BY DAN HOWELL
Big Star reunion at the WCOU Springfling, Columbia, Missouri, April 25, 1993 (from left): Bud Scoppa, Jon Auer, Alex, Jody Stephens, Ken Stringfellow, Jim Rondinelli (who recorded and mixed the set).
COURTESY OF BUD SCOPPA
Ben Vaughn, Alex, and Alan Vega in the Knitting Factory dressing room following the gig supporting their collaborative album, 1995.
PHOTOGRAPH BY STEPHANIE CHERNIKOWSKI
Alex signing autographs at Greville Records, Prahran, Melbourne, Australia (with fan John Gantner and store staffer Louise Connell), October 1995 (note the copy of Bach’s Bottom behind him).
PHOTOGRAPH BY MARY MIHELAKOS
The Stick Man onstage at the House of Blues in Hollywood during the Box Tops’ first reunion gig, April 18, 1997.
PHOTOGRAPH BY ROBERT MATHEU
Alex with Robert and Jack Warren outside his Tremé home, March 1998.
PHOTOGRAPH BY HOLLY GEORGE-WARREN
Alex performing with the trio at the House of Blues in Hollywood, July 6, 1999.
PHOTOGRAPH BY ROBERT MATHEU
The Box Tops live at the Plaza at the World Trade Center, July 17, 2001.
PHOTOGRAPH BY BRUCE ALEXANDER
Onstage with Big Star at Little Steven’s International Underground Garage Fest, Randall’s Island, New York, August 14. 2004.
PHOTOGRAPH BY DANIEL COSTON
Alex’s last gig with the Box Tops: the Bear’s Den, Seneca Niagara Casino, Niagara Falls, New York, November 27, 2009.
PHOTOGRAPH BY BOB SILVESTRI
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
For the assistance I received over three-plus years researching and writing this book, my gratitude runs soul deep: Thanks to my agent and fellow 10-10 Libra Sarah Lazin, who commiserated with me while I grieved over Alex’s sudden passing. She convinced me that to write a book about him would be the best way to honor his legacy. It was a dream come true to work with Viking’s Rick Kot, my insightful, encouraging, and very patient editor. Thanks, Rick, for your support and guidance—and astute cuts, I mean, edits (!)—and your terrific colleagues at Viking: Nick Bromley, Sharon Gonzalez, Marlene Glazer, Francesca Belanger, Lindsay Prevette, and Catherine Boyd, as well as jacket designer Matt Dorfman and copy editor Candy Gianetti.
In the early days of the project, I spent time in Memphis with Cecelia Chilton, who graciously shared her memories of the Chilton family with me. I also met several of Alex’s longtime friends, among them Gordon Alexander, who gave me a tour of every dive, house, and hangout of Alex’s he could find. Calvin Turley helped connect me with several of his and Alex’s pals dating back to junior high school. Ardent’s Adam Hill and Jody Stephens provided a tour of that esteemed studio and their archival materials. Lisa McGaughran helped a great deal with her insights and network of Alex associates. Kent Benjamin, Bruce Eaton, Parke Puterbaugh, Randy Reeves, and Paul Williams shared their own substantial Chilton archives with me.
Thanks so much to all those in Memphis, New Orleans, Nashville, Chapel Hill, Los Angeles, New York, Texas, and other far-flung places who participated in lengthy interviews, many patiently answering a string of follow-up questions. I am especially indebted to all of Alex’s bandmates who spoke with me. I heard so many great stories—from humorous to harrowing—from so many people who crossed paths with Alex over five decades. I wish I could have included them all! (Some will eventually land on this book’s Facebook page.) Interviewing Alex’s acquaintances—not to mention Chilton fans—could have gone on for another three years. Though Laura Chilton chose not to participate in this project, I thank her for making Alex’s final months so happy.
One of the best parts of writing this book was constantly listening to Alex’s diverse music, which I’ve been collecting since I bought my first Box Tops 45 in 1968 (but which picked up steam in the 1970s). Alex’s joy in discovering obscure recordings was mirrored by his friends and fans who shared with me their own collections (and knowledge) of Alex’s live performances, radio appearances, rare vinyl, bootlegs, video footage, never-released tracks, and other recordings. My undying gratitude to: Ted Barron, Kent Benjamin, Stephen Burns, Rick Clark, Gail Elise Clifton, Drew DeNicola, Bruce Eaton, Doug Garrison, Michael Gray, Nancy Heidel, Jesse Jarnow, Ross Johnson, Jim Lancaster, Joe Lauro at Historic Films, John Lightman, Steve Lorber at Metro Music, Lisa McGaughran, Ron Miller, Glenn Morrow, Bernie Kugel, Nick Knox, Robert K. Oermann, Melinda Pendleton, Spike Priggin, Parke Puterbaugh, Randy Reeves, Jamie K. Sims, Amy Gassner Starks, Chris Stamey, Jody Stephens, Keith Sykes, Steve Weiss, Bob Williams, Paul Williams, and Max Wisley.
I was blessed with the generosity of those who shared their own recorded Q&As with Alex and others important to this story; nothing beats listening to an interview: Daniel Coston, Bruce Eaton, Barney Hoskyns, Bernard Kugel, Parke Puterbaugh (recorded in Alex’s home studio!), and Jonathan Valania, I am forever indebted to you!
Fanzines and various U.K. zines covered Alex’s career more than mainstream U.S. publications, especially in the 1970s, but were harder to track down. Many thanks to Barney Hoskyns and the fantastic archive www.rocksbackpages.com, as well as the following folks who unearthed articles, books, and URLs: Peter Aaron, Diane Loring Aiken, Gordon Alexander, John Beifuss, Nancy Breslow, Pat Day Cobb, Ben Fong-Torres, Robert Gordon, Jesse Jarnow, Chris Junior, Randy Reeves, Antonio Rodriguez, Josh Rosenfeld, Joe Sasfy, Andy Schwartz, Brian Sprouse, Brad Tolinski, Dan Tyler, Jaan Uhelszki, and Ben Vaughn, among others. Mary Lindsay Dickinson shared her late husband Jim Dickinson’s unpublished memoir, In Search of Blind Lemon, a scintillating read. I’m especially grateful to Italy’s Box Tops authority Bruno Ceriotti, who has worked for years compiling a comprehensive tourography and archive of the band and put me in touch with several members of the group. Additional thanks to other authors who’ve researched and written about Alex, Big Star, and the Box Tops—particularly Martin Aston, Bruce Eaton, Robert Gordon, Russell Hall, Barney Hoskyns, Rob Jovanovic, the late Cub Koda, Bob Mehr, Ken Sharp and Doug Sulphy, and Keith Spera. I’m grateful to Mark Kemp, Josh Jackson, and Roger Hodge, who each assigned me to write magazine features on Alex, in 1991, 2005, and 2013, respectively. And muchas gracias to Albert Garzon for hiring Alex to produce my band Clambake.
Numerous people shared their photos with me—enough to create a whole book of images. Thanks to: Bruce Alexander, Gordon Alexander, David Arnoff, Ted Barron, Bruno Ceriotti, Stephanie Chernik
owski, Maude Clay, Rene Coman, Daniel Coston, Alain Duplantier, Richard Dworkin, Mitch Easter, Tav Falco, David Godlis, Adam Hill, Elizabeth Hoehn, Dan Howell, Peter Jesperson, Paul Jobe, Robert Johnson, Chris Junior, Louise Leffler, Robert Matheu, Mary Mihelakos, Michael O’Brien, Will Rigby, Ebet Roberts, Ben Sandmel, Joe Sasfy, Robert Schiffer, Andy Schwartz, Bud Scoppa, Bob Silvestri, Danny Smythe, Gary Talley, Carol Whaley, and Frank White. Special thanks to artist Bill Buffett, photographer Mark Loete, and Sony archivist Tom Tierney.
A Man Called Destruction: The Life and Music of Alex Chilton, From Box Tops to Big Star to Backdoor Man Page 43