kung fu grippe

“December boys got it bad”

Big Star - “September Gurls” (1974)

In 1987, “September Gurls” was the song that made me start a band. Just so I could know what it felt like to play that perfect pop song.

Although I sucked at guitar, was a tuneless and sharp singer, and, in retrospect, horribly mangled multiple lines of the lyrics, it still felt transcendent to play that song. Those verses are honey, the bridge is a corker, and that impossibly simple three-chord/5-word chorus has to be one of my favorite sounds in the world.

AMG: Big Star - “September Gurls”

The quintessential power pop classic, Big Star’s seminal 1974 effort “September Gurls” wears its inspirations on its sleeve: the ramshackle crunch of the melody evokes mid-period Beatles, Alex Chilton’s chiming guitar break recalls the Byrds, and the snarling abandon of the performance conjures the Who. All of which is the point, really; power pop is, almost by definition, the sum of its parts, but it’s how those influences are reconfigured which separates the wheat from the chaff. What’s exciting about “September Gurls” (and much of the Big Star catalog, for that matter) is its brilliant transformation of its composite elements into a rough-edged but sweetly gorgeous sound that’s both familiar and novel; poignantly ragged and breathlessly reckless, the song seems held together by sheer force of will, lumbering forward even as it verges on complete collapse. And although lyrics like “I loved you, well never mind” bitterly encapsulate the inextricable combination of affection and apathy which virtually defines Chilton’s career, the song also reveals a surprising tenderness, tempering its venom with achingly lovely vocals and sun-kissed harmonies.

Even if he hadn’t written and performed about 10 of my favorite songs, Alex Chilton would still be a giant influence on me. The guy was a totally self-defined and unflappable contrarian.

If you yelled out “September Gurls!” at a live show you might get your request. Or, you might just get a crooked smile, a dry sotto voce remark and, then, anything from a Spanish ballad to a Muscle Shoals shuffle to a fucked-up improvisation on Bach. All depended on the night, I guess.

Alex Chilton - “MTV’s “The Cutting Edge” (1985)

As a guy whose influence was more widely known and respected than his actual oeuvre, Chilton had the worst mix of celebrity and obscurity; his minuscule army of superfans was psychotically devoted, but most of the millions of people watching Fox had no clue they were hearing a song written by that same hopped-up teenager who growled on “The Letter.”

The Box Tops - “The Letter” (1967)

Saw Chilton live twice in the 80s and 90s. It was pretty good. Not unmissable. But good.

Like practically everyone, I wished he’d played more 20-year-old songs about cars and girls than 60-year-old jazz standards or 2-year-old song about AIDS.

But, over the years, I finally came to appreciate that the man was much more than a poster. He was a guy whose eclectic musical restlessness made him resistant to recovering any stretch of ground that didn’t offer a new twist or a fat check. Both of which, for any variety of reasons, I kind of get now.

Fresh Air/Ed Ward - “Story of Big Star”

So glad I got to hear the man’s work and got to watch how he navigated a weirdly circuitous career. He was a keystone and an American original.