I remember when I first saw Lynn Simpson. She was walking up the stairs to my house carrying her guitar and moving slow and tired. I came through the door on to the porch to greet her.
“Hi. You’re Lynn, right?”
“You’re Richie?”
“Yeah. That’s me. C’mon in.”
Lynn walked like she was weary of carrying herself around. She came into the house, into my little music room, and sat down. She was in her early fifties but looked older, with a mottled, heavily made up face, a big unwieldy body and reddish-brown tinted hair that curled and sat around on her head.
“You see I need to play good enough to accompany myself singing when no one else is around to help me do it – so I can get up on stage and not have to ask my friends all the time. I hate that depending on them.”
Lynn tells me lots of things at our first lesson. How she’s worked hard for a living her whole life ‘til it was all she could do… How a bad fool man for a husband taught her a lesson but that’s way over… And how she cared for her mother and an invalid friend for many years running… And running through it all, through her life like a stream, has been her love of country music. The pure heart sound of the great ones who knew… Hank Williams… Patsy Cline… George Jones…
And now somewhere deep inside Lynn has decided to take a stand for playing this music herself. (She wouldn’t say it quite like that, but she’d make sure you knew what was up.) She hangs out at the clubs and lives the life of drink and smoke and music and music people, and in the daylight hours learns to play guitar from yours truly.
Lynn has a tough time making the guitar say something she wants it to say. Her hands shake and you need some control. She works at it, but even the simplest patterns and chords stay uneven and ragged. And it’s not a question of practice. If it was, Lynn would have it nailed. Her body just won’t come around. Later I’ll see bottles of pills stuffed in drawers and laying all over her kitchen counter. Blood pressure, heart condition, chronic leg pain and the tremor in her hands, and I can see that things are going to be difficult.
But Lynn is devoted. She keeps coming back and keeps working it. And furthermore, she is the stuff: heart and soul right out front where you can rub up against it real easy. She just can’t fake it. She’s been through too much. Layers worn away never to return. That’s the suffering heart, scarey-like on the sleeve. And therein lies her appeal and her magic; an attraction that draws people whirling around, so that Lynn and her music are a scene worth making.
* * * *
Out of this scene comes Linda Lou Simpson (that’s Lynn) and her Country Customers – Lynn’s band. She’s a singer from the belting, emotion-charged school of country madams who stand up in front of it all and wring out their hearts. And her Country Customers? We are players; pros with an off night or an off year to rehearse with Lynn.
But this isn’t a Sunday morning success story out of your newspaper, and Lynn isn’t any late-blooming country legend. Her timing and her pitch are way too undependable. I mean she is over the line – even for a raw country belter. It’s all just too painful for too many people to listen to and witness. And so, even though the sound is electric and somehow appealing, and even though Lynn has a compelling, heart-felt stage presence, the gigs are few and the reception is only pretty good.
* * * *
To Insist: To take and maintain a stand.
– Webster’s New World Dictionary
One more time. One more angle. Lynn does what she does because at a deep level her soul insists. It’s not a question of expectations or promise or any of that future crap. This is a present time manifestation of the life of the soul. Pretty scary. Pretty out front and center. But that’s life.
* * * *
Tonight!
Linda Lou Simpson and Her Country Customers
Live Country And Western Music
It’s Saturday night. Lynn is radiant in a shiny black outfit and a sequined leather jacket. She applies a pint for medicinal purposes and walks up to the mic to sing:
“Crazy, crazy for feeling so lonely,
Crazy, crazy for feeling so blue,
I knew, you’d love me as long as you wanted,
Then someday, you’d leave me for somebody new.”
It’s a crazy show. Not pretty. Certainly not consistent. The review might read:
“Last night Linda Lou Simpson and her Country Customers showed why they continue to confound the experts and their fans as well. The music could fly like an eagle and then dive like a submarine. Lynn seemingly has no control in her voice, one minute crooning smoothly on, the next flat-out flat and embarrassing. Her “Customers” were stalwarts all, and when smokin’ could make sense out of raucous mayhem; but they were also capable of messing with the groove of the simplest country classic.” Amen.
Fortunately for Lynn, what the world at large thinks about her is only part of the story, and not a crucial part at that. “Taking and maintaining a stand” isn’t reviewable. In fact, a lot of times it isn’t even recognizable; not unless you dig underneath and hang around a bit until you feel the drive, the insistence at an almost cellular level. Then it’s like, “Oh I get it.”
So let’s try it one more time…
TONIGHT!
THE FABULOUS LINDA LOU SIMPSON
AND HER COUNTRY CUSTOMERS
* LIVE MUSIC! *
It’s Saturday night! Check Lynn out. She is absolutely radiant in a shiny black outfit and a sequined leather jacket. She applies a shot and a beer for medicinal purposes and walks slowly up to the mic to sing:
“… Crazy
For thinking that my love could hold you,
And I’m crazy for crying,
Crazy for trying,
And crazy for luh-huh-vin’ you.”
Lynn turns to Jules, her rhythm man and sidekick:
“Okay Toots, let’s do one that jumps!”
We go into “That’s Alright Mama” and the money bounces off the table. This is what the band does best and we’re doing it again tonight. But wait a minute… something’s up with Lynn. Take a look… she’s weaving in and out and coming up short on the beat; kind of out of breath. And then just as you’re sure she’s really going to lose it, she pushes on, singing hoarsely into the mic:
“I’m leavin’ town baby,
I’m leavin’ town for sure,
Then you won’t be bothered
With me hangin’ ‘round your door
But that’s alright… “
“Sweet Dreams Of You”… “I’m Walkin’ The Floor Over You”… “I fall to Pieces”… The beat goes on.
“Thank you. Thank you so much… You know it sure is nice of Vicky to have us back here again, and we sure do appreciate it, don’t we boys? And now I’d like to blah and blah and…”
The words fade as you turn and walk out into the air and the night. Feels good to hit the breeze after all that smoke and beer. Inside Lynn and the band are still going at it. You can hear her milking some poor old song or other as you get into your car. Lying in bed about an hour later, there’s a tune she was singing that just won’t leave you alone. And the thing is you can feel it deep inside, and you’re thinking: ‘Linda Lou Simpson… god… you gotta really want it to do that… to get up there like that and…’
(POSTSCRIPT:)
Tonight Only
Linda Lou Simpson
And Her Country Customers
That’s the sign out front. Inside it’s 1:30 a.m. and the Country Customers are tearing down and packing up while Lynn sits at the bar counting the tips for the band. You can see she’s pleased from the inside out. It’s that glow. The one that says, ‘I’m in the right place at the right time.’ I sidle up next to her and give her a hug.
“Thanks, Richie. Thanks for playing with me.”
“We were great. I had a great time!”
“You stick with me, toots, we’re goin’ places.”
I answer with another hug, and I’m thinking, ‘yeah, but where?’ I mean what difference does it make, anyway… where we’re going… if we’re going… and all of that. Lynn is beautiful, the night is beautiful, and the music… is the music.
* * * *
A few months later I quit the band. It was time for a change… to move on. Lynn is most definitely still at it: rehearsals… occasional gigs… living into it and waking up into it every morning. It’s a life.
And for me, when I need a good strong jolt to shake me, I just remember how Lynn used to say it, how she would look around and want it so much:
“Let’s play it one more time, toots, this time like we mean it.”
