Do you have specific memories of the first time you heard a song or a band? There’s plenty of music that I like but don’t particularly remember where I first heard it.
I remember a song from the summer of ‘75. I was working at the old Hotel William Baker at Chautauqua. The hotel staff stayed in the staff quarters on the first floor of the middle of three buildings. I was a rising high school senior, surrounded by college students, so it was an educational summer all round. But that’s where I first heard a song called “Whammerjammer”, a wild, live cut of this blues inspired tune with an amazing harmonica lead. That’s the first time I’d ever heard the J. Geils Band.
The J. Geils Band is one of those musical groups that exist along the fringe. They are not the one hit wonders or never-weres, but they also never quite broke through to the big time. They had one number one hit, 1982’s “Centerfold”, plus one other top ten hit, off the same album, “Freeze Frame”. There were a couple more low-level Top 40 cuts, but that was it. At the same time, they were a band that toured and toured and toured. Along the way, they developed an enormous fan base. To this day when their fans talk about the band, it’s almost always about a show attended. A high energy, rocking concert that took their breath away.
I hadn’t thought about “Whammerjammer” in a long time. When I heard that lead guitarist and namesake J. Geils had been found dead in his home, that summer and that song came pouring back into my memory. Geils was born in New York City and grew up listening to Miles Davis, and Louis Armstrong. Later he added Howling Wolf and folk music to his repertoire. It was while he was in college that the group that became the J. Geils Band came together. Geils, Peter Wolf, Seth Justman, Magic Dick Salwitz, Danny Klein and Stephen Jo Bladd. The band would tour from 1970 to 1985. Geils would turn to auto racing and restoration before returning to music, eventually recording a jazz album. There were occasional reunions. In 2012, the other members of the band were talking about going back out on tour, using the name but without the man himself. He sued, and quit the band for good.
I only worked at the Billy B for that one summer, and I’ve lost touch with everyone. But when I pulled that cut up on YouTube, it all came flooding back. That’s what music can do. For a naive and musically unsophisticated suburban kid from Pittsburgh, that song was a window into a whole different kind of music. And I’ll never forget it.
John Warren Geils Jr was 71 years old.
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