Emitt Rhodes
NOTE: As I languish in Facebook Jail, I decided to go back through some of my unpublished and semi-published rants and raves from various online delivery systems. Most of these are responses to somebody's posts, blogs or comments.
You may not agree with my point of view and that's okay. I may not agree with my points of view, either.
If'n you don't...feel free to comment.
You may not agree with my point of view and that's okay. I may not agree with my points of view, either.
If'n you don't...feel free to comment.
Written July 20, 2020 (Semi-published in Bob Lefsetz's "Mailbag" email 8/10/20)
Thanks for telling Emitt’s story over the last few years. Or longer.
He loomed large in my existence and besides the Beatles, inspired me to make music my life.
My first exposure to Emitt Rhodes was in early 1967. I was living in the white ghetto in South Norfolk, VA. My little brother and I would catch the bus, go downtown and buy 45’s at J.C. Penny. It was there that I bought “Live” b/w “Time Will Show The Wiser”. It connected with me. I don’t know if I’d heard it on WGH, the local AM radio station, first…but if not, I was lucky. Maybe it was fate. I made a mental note of the writer’s name on the label: Emitt Rhodes. I wore that damn thing out. Both sides. Later, I found out Emitt was just a kid. Like me, but just a few years older.
The next time I heard Emitt was on WGH. My mom and I were driving in the snow. 1970. “Fresh As A Daisy” came on and I immediately thought it was a new Beatles single. The DJ said “The new single by Emitt Rhodes”. I sought out the album. Found it in the bargain bin at Kresge’s or some such place. It has never left my essential albums list. Toted it from coast to coast and back again.
The next time I heard Emitt was on WGH. My mom and I were driving in the snow. 1970. “Fresh As A Daisy” came on and I immediately thought it was a new Beatles single. The DJ said “The new single by Emitt Rhodes”. I sought out the album. Found it in the bargain bin at Kresge’s or some such place. It has never left my essential albums list. Toted it from coast to coast and back again.
I first met Emitt in1991, I think. I was gigging at a former biker bar in Yorba Linda. My drummer and I were the band. We played every Saturday and Sunday since 1988 or ’89. Took this scary dive and turned it into a local “go to” place. We didn’t have any other static band members, but the drummer knew some of the finest players in the Orange County/L.A. area and we would rotate in a bassist and a guitarist/singer, (or keyboard player…depending on who was available), sometimes the lineup changed nightly. Players from the Righteous Brothers touring bands past and present, primarily. Barry Rillera, Jamie Browning, Bruce Borden, Jose Silva and Hal Ratliff to name a few. And some other top drawer players like Tom Clift from the Johnny Otis Band and Tony Bellamy from Redbone and many more. Later, Don Preston of Leon Russell’s Tulsa Mafia was semi-regular and eventually replaced me when the drummer and I had fallen out. Politics.
We played nothing but covers. Stuff everybody with any basic knowledge of rock, blues and ‘60s soul/club music would know either by rote, or by osmosis.
But in 1991, we had convinced the bar owner that we were so good that it would be smart for him to spring for a mobile recording truck, let us set up what turned out to be an 8 piece band across his space where the pool table resides and play all day long. Cover songs. A 16 track recording truck parked out back and Emitt Rhodes was hired as the engineer.
After 16 hours, (we started in the morning), multiple takes of each song and when the coke ran out Emitt grabbed the tapes and we set up a schedule to fix clams, perform judicious overdubs and mix. All in the studio that Emitt’s recording gear and instruments reside.That keyboard from the inside of his first album. There. My understanding is that he recorded his records across the street, at his mom’s. He bought the place on the other side the street and set up his studios in the garage, behind the house. I was there. Recording in Emitt’s studio.
Based on the fact that Emitt had amazing ears…the ability to hear the most minor flaws in a recording or performance, around 1996, Jamie Browning got some financial backing from a friend that also had an Emitt connection and decided Emitt would produce his first “solo” album. But it was presented as more of a band project: Jamie and the Jury. I spent a lot of time at Jamie’s home studio and another place in Anaheim, near the stadium, working on that record. One of my best memories is standing next to Emitt Rhodes singing backing vocals around the same mic.
To me, this was thrilling shit.
After Jamie’s album was released and had run it’s course, I wanted to do my solo record. 1997/98, I think. I called Emitt and asked if he’s produce and he said, I need to hear the songs. Bring your 3 best. I went to his studio, played the first song and he said “Are you sure you wrote this? This sounds like the Hollies”. I took it as a slam, at first. But he said…”This is really good. You’re a guitar player…”. I played the other two tunes and he said he’s produce my record. Then he said “Bring me everything. Every song you’ve written. Finished or not. No matter how bad you think it might be. I will help you make a record. I need money.” So I had a couple of good friends give me $2000 and wrote the check to Emitt.
Understand that I was in Orange County, Emitt in Hawthorne. Long commute up the 405. For months, whenever Emitt was available. I’d drive up. It was all being recorded on ADAT machines. “You can record stuff at home. I’ll edit it.” He taught me how to make charts for the drummer. Everything would be mapped out. Played to a click. Able to be edited. We recorded the first four songs with Tucker Fleming on drums. Emitt thought the timing was slightly off. Bill Severence was called in and we nailed the drum tracks.
We brought in Bruce Borden on bass and he recorded two tracks. The next time I drove up we edited the bass tracks. We spent at least 16 hours editing one bass track. Well…he did. I was laying on the floor of his shag-carpeted control room, half-nodded out.
Emitt was going through a contentious divorce and custody battle. I had met his little girl once or twice. Althea? I can’t remember.
It began to get crazy. I’d come up for a scheduled session and Emitt wouldn’t answer his door. Or, he’d yell out “I can’t do it today. Go home. Record. Try different things. Erase nothing.”
So I did. I would utilize Jamie’s studio when he was touring with the Righteous Brothers. Brought in Tom Clift to play bass on a tune that Emitt and I co-wrote. Had Jamie play some guitar. Did as much as I could. But I’d call Emitt and he’d beg off. He’d spiraled downward. Way down. After almost a year of working on 4 songs…Emitt became less and less available due to depression. I had to move on. He had the master tapes. I think in his heart he thought he could finish at least the 4 songs. But, to me…he was gone. One day I didn’t call. I just went up to his house. Knocked on the door and told him I needed the masters. We went round and round through the closed door. He said “Look…I want to help you. I thought you wanted to help me.” I was so angry I yelled “Im not a fucking shrink, Emitt.”
It broke my heart. I stood there on the verge of tears. There was silence. After about 10 minutes he said “The box of tapes is on the driveway”.
Later that year or maybe early the next, I called him and we talked. He was better. No hard feelings. We talked fairly often. He would say, “We gotta finish your album”. I had long given up. Finished what I could on my own. Three songs. Had to cycle through everything he told me not to erase. Made decisions. Mixed it poorly.
Around 1998/99 I had been going to the Largo for Jon Brion’s Friday night shows occasion. Brion had played an Emitt song one night. I called Emitt and told him that there’s a group of young players out there that revere him. Let me take you up there. I called the Largo owner and asked if he could reserve a table for us if I was to bring in Emitt Rhodes. That next Friday, Emitt, his son and myself were at the Largo. Before the show, I introduced Emitt to Jon Brian and Aimee Mann…neither of whom I knew or had met. They were so effusive and jazzed. Emitt was embarrassed, I think. Brion, during the show, had asked drummer Ethan Johns “Who has the best drum sounds ever on an album?”. Johns responded “Emitt Rhodes”.
Later, it was Jon Brion’s circle of musical friends that graced Emitt’s last album.
The last time I saw him was at his house. I don’t remember . 2011 or 2012 ? Somewhere in that timeframe. We smoked a bowl. I played my mixes of the 3 songs we produced. He listened while he walked around the room. Stroking his beard. After one tune he commented, “That’s a great song. I always loved that song”.
He then said "Here’s what I’m working on…” and played “What’s A Man To Do”. A sparse recording. Basic tracks, essentially. He said “I want you to sing on it. I can pay you.”. I told him I’d do it for nothing. He picked up a guitar, showed me the chords and the part I was to sing. After a while it was time to gig. Beat that traffic. Gave him a hug, told him to call me when he needed the vocals. He said “Okay”.
I only heard from him one more time. He left a message on my answering machine. “Hey Scott. This is Emitt. We have to finish your record.”
I finished the record in 2012. Used another producer to take the mess I made and try to make sense of it.
Emitt never heard the final product. I’d been meaning to send him a copy. I’ve been in North Carolina since late 2015.
I had a ticket to fly back to California in mid-March. Planned on swinging by Emitt’s as I know he’s usually there…even if he doesn’t answer the phone.
Called him every couple of months. Same canned answering machine message from the 1990s. I always left a message. He never called back.
We played nothing but covers. Stuff everybody with any basic knowledge of rock, blues and ‘60s soul/club music would know either by rote, or by osmosis.
But in 1991, we had convinced the bar owner that we were so good that it would be smart for him to spring for a mobile recording truck, let us set up what turned out to be an 8 piece band across his space where the pool table resides and play all day long. Cover songs. A 16 track recording truck parked out back and Emitt Rhodes was hired as the engineer.
After 16 hours, (we started in the morning), multiple takes of each song and when the coke ran out Emitt grabbed the tapes and we set up a schedule to fix clams, perform judicious overdubs and mix. All in the studio that Emitt’s recording gear and instruments reside.That keyboard from the inside of his first album. There. My understanding is that he recorded his records across the street, at his mom’s. He bought the place on the other side the street and set up his studios in the garage, behind the house. I was there. Recording in Emitt’s studio.
Based on the fact that Emitt had amazing ears…the ability to hear the most minor flaws in a recording or performance, around 1996, Jamie Browning got some financial backing from a friend that also had an Emitt connection and decided Emitt would produce his first “solo” album. But it was presented as more of a band project: Jamie and the Jury. I spent a lot of time at Jamie’s home studio and another place in Anaheim, near the stadium, working on that record. One of my best memories is standing next to Emitt Rhodes singing backing vocals around the same mic.
To me, this was thrilling shit.
After Jamie’s album was released and had run it’s course, I wanted to do my solo record. 1997/98, I think. I called Emitt and asked if he’s produce and he said, I need to hear the songs. Bring your 3 best. I went to his studio, played the first song and he said “Are you sure you wrote this? This sounds like the Hollies”. I took it as a slam, at first. But he said…”This is really good. You’re a guitar player…”. I played the other two tunes and he said he’s produce my record. Then he said “Bring me everything. Every song you’ve written. Finished or not. No matter how bad you think it might be. I will help you make a record. I need money.” So I had a couple of good friends give me $2000 and wrote the check to Emitt.
Understand that I was in Orange County, Emitt in Hawthorne. Long commute up the 405. For months, whenever Emitt was available. I’d drive up. It was all being recorded on ADAT machines. “You can record stuff at home. I’ll edit it.” He taught me how to make charts for the drummer. Everything would be mapped out. Played to a click. Able to be edited. We recorded the first four songs with Tucker Fleming on drums. Emitt thought the timing was slightly off. Bill Severence was called in and we nailed the drum tracks.
We brought in Bruce Borden on bass and he recorded two tracks. The next time I drove up we edited the bass tracks. We spent at least 16 hours editing one bass track. Well…he did. I was laying on the floor of his shag-carpeted control room, half-nodded out.
Emitt was going through a contentious divorce and custody battle. I had met his little girl once or twice. Althea? I can’t remember.
It began to get crazy. I’d come up for a scheduled session and Emitt wouldn’t answer his door. Or, he’d yell out “I can’t do it today. Go home. Record. Try different things. Erase nothing.”
So I did. I would utilize Jamie’s studio when he was touring with the Righteous Brothers. Brought in Tom Clift to play bass on a tune that Emitt and I co-wrote. Had Jamie play some guitar. Did as much as I could. But I’d call Emitt and he’d beg off. He’d spiraled downward. Way down. After almost a year of working on 4 songs…Emitt became less and less available due to depression. I had to move on. He had the master tapes. I think in his heart he thought he could finish at least the 4 songs. But, to me…he was gone. One day I didn’t call. I just went up to his house. Knocked on the door and told him I needed the masters. We went round and round through the closed door. He said “Look…I want to help you. I thought you wanted to help me.” I was so angry I yelled “Im not a fucking shrink, Emitt.”
It broke my heart. I stood there on the verge of tears. There was silence. After about 10 minutes he said “The box of tapes is on the driveway”.
Later that year or maybe early the next, I called him and we talked. He was better. No hard feelings. We talked fairly often. He would say, “We gotta finish your album”. I had long given up. Finished what I could on my own. Three songs. Had to cycle through everything he told me not to erase. Made decisions. Mixed it poorly.
Around 1998/99 I had been going to the Largo for Jon Brion’s Friday night shows occasion. Brion had played an Emitt song one night. I called Emitt and told him that there’s a group of young players out there that revere him. Let me take you up there. I called the Largo owner and asked if he could reserve a table for us if I was to bring in Emitt Rhodes. That next Friday, Emitt, his son and myself were at the Largo. Before the show, I introduced Emitt to Jon Brian and Aimee Mann…neither of whom I knew or had met. They were so effusive and jazzed. Emitt was embarrassed, I think. Brion, during the show, had asked drummer Ethan Johns “Who has the best drum sounds ever on an album?”. Johns responded “Emitt Rhodes”.
Later, it was Jon Brion’s circle of musical friends that graced Emitt’s last album.
The last time I saw him was at his house. I don’t remember . 2011 or 2012 ? Somewhere in that timeframe. We smoked a bowl. I played my mixes of the 3 songs we produced. He listened while he walked around the room. Stroking his beard. After one tune he commented, “That’s a great song. I always loved that song”.
He then said "Here’s what I’m working on…” and played “What’s A Man To Do”. A sparse recording. Basic tracks, essentially. He said “I want you to sing on it. I can pay you.”. I told him I’d do it for nothing. He picked up a guitar, showed me the chords and the part I was to sing. After a while it was time to gig. Beat that traffic. Gave him a hug, told him to call me when he needed the vocals. He said “Okay”.
I only heard from him one more time. He left a message on my answering machine. “Hey Scott. This is Emitt. We have to finish your record.”
I finished the record in 2012. Used another producer to take the mess I made and try to make sense of it.
Emitt never heard the final product. I’d been meaning to send him a copy. I’ve been in North Carolina since late 2015.
I had a ticket to fly back to California in mid-March. Planned on swinging by Emitt’s as I know he’s usually there…even if he doesn’t answer the phone.
Called him every couple of months. Same canned answering machine message from the 1990s. I always left a message. He never called back.
The last time I called was May 20th. He never called back.
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