PicoBlog

Let me throw a fat high five to my new subscribers (paid and free!). If you like what I’m cooking here, why not forward this to a friend and/or promote it by going around your neighborhood knocking on doors? Unless that’s something you’re not quite comfortable with, of course. Either way, no matter. We’re happy to have you.

Friends,

Streaming sites are overwhelming. And unless somebody tips me off, more often than not I’m a commitment-phobe who can’t bring himself to click on anything. Oh, I know there’s gold in them thar hills, buried deep behind that homepage. But, unless I’m tipped off, I’ll just pick up a book. Or more likely, go back to scrolling nothingness on my phone. Sad!

But here’s a hot tip. (Someone told me and now I’m telling you. Pass it on.) 

There’s a Jerry Lee Lewis documentary directed by Ethan Coen and produced by T Bone Burnett (and Mick Jagger, among others) called “Trouble in Mind.” 

I guess it’s been out for a while. I read about it during the pandemic, but when things like this get a release, maybe it should make the news. As in, push something else off-center stage for, oh, I don’t know, some small portion of a 24-hour news cycle. (News programmers: I’m available as a consultant. Up early, sleeps poorly. Everything you’re looking for in a Trusted Resource.)  

“Trouble in Mind” is mostly curated from existing footage. But it’s all Maximum Jerry Lee. A crème de la crème montage of The Killer’s TV appearances and interviews and beyond. I’m still not certain exactly what kind of Ethan Coen jam it is (as in “directed” or “selected” by). 

Either way, it’s cool. And unlike so many rock docs, it’s refreshing how they never interrupt a performance to cut to the usual talking head suspects man-splaining who Jerry Lee Lewis (“The Killer” to the local constabulary) is and how he’s “like a Sex Pistol” or whatever. 

And don’t let the “existing footage” part scare you away. It’s all still fresh somehow. You get as close to the source of the walking talking art installation that is The Man Himself as inhumanly possible. He’s a tortured Christian (who returns the favor and calls everyone “Killer,” by the way). And in between the badassery, there’s plenty of humor and wit. (Jerry Lee is really funny. And in some interviews, oddly, he’s almost shy.) 

But he’s all drama all the time. Never dull. Mugging, cocky, pensive… winking into the camera, all, “What? Me?” And yeah, he’s the Last Man Standing. But they don’t make a big deal out of that. 

It opens with the Mickey Newbury song “She Even Woke Me Up to Say Goodbye.” Jerry Lee looking calmly into the camera while his hands burn up the keyboard. And then he gives that patented Robert Duvall “I love the smell of napalm in the morning, smells like victory" shrug. 

With a mischievous grin as if to say, “Anybody got a problem…?”

There's a nod to the pride of Memphis. The World Wrestling Federation. With some grandiose boasting from The Killer, delivered with a kind of irony that goes under people’s heads. (It ain’t bragging if it’s true, is it?) It’s hard to take your eyes off him.  

And yeah, if you’ve paid attention and maybe even done some extra credit work on your own, you no doubt know about the marriage to his 13-year-old cousin. But did you hear the one about him shooting his bass player in the chest? That part is a laugh riot. (Or is it? Maybe I don’t think it is, on third thought. Those crazy Southern loons. Boy, do they love their guns!)

Anyway, your mileage may vary, as my friend Blake says. But you can’t go wrong by filling up the tank and taking the doc out for a spin.

Have fun. 

Meanwhile, I’ve been working on a new record. And shuffling around. Salinas, Oakland, Sacramento, Austin, Nashville… the San Fernando Valley, San Francisco, and back. Songs, yeah… But with a Cumbia groove under their feet. Featuring some heavy lifting by both the Mission Express and Salinas’s own band of brothers ¿Qiensave?

And like a lot of people, late at night when things wind down back at the hotel I might throw open the laptop and see what’s out there. Judging from the homepage of Netflix, there’s a lot of crime out there.

This Jerry Lee Lewis doc is one scene of the crime jam I’ll be returning to again and again, I’m sure.

Onwards, 

  -CP    

PS: My vote is to take every little bit of Bo Diddley footage. Load it in a truck and dump it at Ethan Coen’s door. 

Who’s with me?

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