Softening a rock myth: Jerry Lee Lewis drank a lot of ... milk?
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The Grammy Museum isnât the place to go for lurid rock ânâ roll details. Like the awards for which the institution is branded, Grammy Museum events arenât necessarily ones filled with dirt. But that wouldnât stop a fan at a session with Jerry Lee Lewis on Tuesday night from at least trying, although he did apologize before presenting his question.
It wasnât all that probing, and it wasnât one Lewis hadnât been asked before, but in an evening in which Lewis was prodded to offer his thoughts on the Beatles and the Rolling Stones (spoiler: he likes them), it was downright scandalous. What, the fan asked, did Lewis think of 1989 bio-pic âGreat Balls of Fire,â in which Dennis Quaid portrays the artist known as âThe Killerâ? Inspired by true events, the film showcases the more exaggerated aspects of Lewisâ reckless mythology -- a drunk, an abuser and the controversial marriage to a teenage cousin that derailed his career.
As a man with a reputation for the unpredictable, even if the artist has been a bit declawed these days (the Grammy Museum event happened on the eve of his 75th birthday), the audience hushed. His most recent album, after all, is named âMean Old Man.â The fact that the elder rock legend has lost a bit of his lighting-fast quickness only added to the tension.
âIt was kind of a distortion,â Lewis said after a pause. âIt wasnât really up to par. Iâm really trying to say something but I donât know what to say. I was displeased with it. Dennis Quaid did a good job ... But there was a lot of fiction in it.â
In lieu of follow-ups, the evening moved on to more merrier moments, allowing Lewis to perform a brief set -- one new song as well as âWhole Lotta Shakinâ Goinâ Onâ and âGreat Balls of Fireâ -- that revealed he hasnât slowed a bit when it comes to owning a piano. The Timesâ Randy Lewis covered Lewisâ appearance Saturday in Pomona, writing âIf itâs no longer with the fire of youth that once drove him, he still projects a focused intensity.â
The brief concert was preceded by a Q&A hosted by Grammy Museumâs executive director Robert Santelli. Few would be more equipped to interview Lewis, as Santelliâs background in academia, in addition to his days leading Clevelandâs Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Seattleâs Experience Music Project, have made Santelli virtually a walking encyclopedia of music history. He can rattle off side-man and B-sides like Bill James can spit out baseball stats, and Santelli kept the evening moving fast.
The answers Lewis gave were short, and not necessarily deep, but Santelli didnât let the tough interview subject get much of a breather. The early part of the evening was focused on âMean Old Man,â with Santelli questioning Lewis, as well as his longtime collaborator Kenny Lovelace and his daughter Phoebe, on nearly every duet on the album. The likes of Mick Jagger, Kid Rock, Tim McGraw and Sheryl Crow guest on the set, and Santelli was able to show that the church-raised Lewis still has a bit of the devilâs spark in him.
âItâs a good one,â Lewis said of the new album, and itâs clear he appreciated some guests more than others. âThe little girl whose name is Crow,â Lewis said, generating laughs from the crowd. âGood looking girl. I canât remember the name, though.â
It was the kind of lighthearted tone -- some may even say it was borderline offensive -- that the crowd happily took in. Lewis still has bite, but old age has softened the sting.
Few dispute the effect Lewis had on rock ânâ roll, as his piano-laced bursts of energy touched on gospel, country and rhythm and blues. In the late â50s, he was a figure with a personality as big as Elvis Presley or Chuck Berry, and joined a group of luminaries who defined the template for decades of rock ânâ roll, as well as the excesses of rock stardom. Yet heâs also a troubling figure, and late in life audiences seemed to have embraced Lewis as something of a colorful uncle, avoiding such uncomfortable details as his marriage to his 13-year-old cousin.
Instead, Lewis was asked to discuss the first song he learned on the piano (âSilent Nightâ), and what it was like watching âMillion Dollar Quartet,â the Broadway musical inspired by the famed recording session that featured Lewis, Johnny Cash, Presley and Carl Perkins. Lewis spoke of performing at the musical, where the Tony Award-winning Levi Kreis, who plays the musician in the production, attempted to join him for âWhole Lotta Shakinâ Goinâ On.â
âWhen he started to play a little bit,â Lewis recalled, âI said, âDonât do that.â â
Santelli for his part tried to get Lewis and Lovelace to share some road stories, asking about when the group was touring nonstop in 1957 and 1958. Lovelace said the group would often play 25 nights per month, giving two shows per night. And after the gigs, Santelli asked?
Lewis and Lovelace would go back to the motel and eat chili and drink a glass of milk, Lovelace said.
âMilk?â Santelli said, with more than a little doubt. He added that he would have thought Lewisâ beverage of choice was something else.
âI did that too,â Lewis said, âbut I wasnât doing it as much as people said I did.â
-- Todd Martens