6 New Readers!
First a little biz: After sending out an update on my roadshow to the general Row House mail list, a bunch of you signed up for my dispatches.
Thanks, and welcome aboard!
For my current Substackians, you can read that update here. It’s got some cool photos and reflections you haven’t yet seen on this platform.
Now, onto a brief telling of our day with Jimmy A.
A Big Man’s Hat
Jimmy Abegg has been a prolific session and touring guitarist in Nashville since the late 1980’s.
I came to appreciate his virtuosity on two projects:
In 1989, he recorded and performed with Charile Peacock and Vince Ebo. Their album West Coast Diaries, Vol. II spoke powerfully to me in a time of great professional upheaval and, looking back, of some level of depression. Jimmy’s varied guitar work buoyed Charlie’s passionate lyrics and Vince’s soaring, transcendent backing vocals. I was met.
In 2014, Jimmy joined up with his long-time friend Steve Taylor to form The Perfect Foil. Again, Jimmy contributed just the right sonic texture for the album Goliath. On tour, Jimmy became a real-time session player, complimenting Steve’s spastic frontmanship seamlessly.1
After their concert in Lancaster, I walked around back to the loading dock and chatted with Jimmy, ever the affable one. He said,
Look me up next time you’re in Nashville.
One shouldn’t say such things to Tom Becker and not expect an email. After a few attempts, we finally hooked up in September.
Peripheral Vision
He invited us to his newly-built studio behind his East Nashville home2 where he paints, rehearses, and hangs with friends (and even well-meaning fans like us).
Jimmy is also a visual artist of some note, despite having lost most of his vision to macular degeneration.
The day before we visited him, he pointed us to a show of his water colors hung throughout an architectural office. The smallest paintings were going for $450.
For decades he supported his family of four by playing music and contributing photographs and album designs to many magazines and bands.
I told him how much the West Coast album meant to me, its cover image of a yuppie with a walkie-talkie indelibly etched into my psyche.
You wanna see it?
Next thing I know we’re holding the original painting together. It’ve fit so nicely in my suitcase, but I reckon I would’ve lost that wrastlin’ match.
Trade Secrets
We spoke of recording sessions, tours, and listened to his stories from years with a host of musicians.3
Knowing that some of his compatriots have a reputation for being characters, I couldn’t help asking him about Rich Mullins.
He launched right in with a story from Pennsylvania.
The Raggamuffin Band was touring with Rich, and they were treated to a PA Dutch potluck meal in the basement of a church.
A pot of soup was sampled by all the band members and summarily rejected by each one. Jimmy recalled the taste was horrific. No one could gag it down.
They eagerly watch Rich help himself to a large portion which he devours with delight, helping himself to seconds, and taking it down to the dregs.
Jimmy said,
That was Rich. He loved to eat, and he’d eat anything!4
Flying Blind
I quite knowingly asked Jimmy about “that banjo on the wall.”
Quite knowingly, he asked me to pull it down for him. We all knew what was coming next.
He started picking out a haunting gospel tune and singing,
Do you know, my friends, you know, do you know….5
Not having his pick in hand, he abandoned the perfomnace mid-song and took up chatting about his eyesight.
Being virtually blind has barely diminished his instrumental acuity.
How, then, does he paint?
With brushes, of course. 👏🏼
As time goes on, his canvases take on a more abstract quality, less representational.
The wedding commission is a case in point. In it, he portrays the essense of covenanal love with full, thick strokes.
From a distance, his subject is clear. Up close, it’s tactile.
He speaks about his physical challenge with humor and grace.
Jimmy’s leaning into this shift in giftendness rather than throwing out his brushes.
His experience with life, music, friendships, Jesus, color, and composition serve him well, and he boldly goes forward creating beautiful art for the world.
He offered me a sip of wine from a disposable water bottle! I demurred, but we did enjoy a few hand-rolled cigarettes (the legal kind).
It used to be that struggling artists moved into his neighborhood in the 80’s, rubbing shoulders with lower-income folk, many of them Black. Because of gentrification, his property’s value has skyrocketed by about 1000%. That’s three Zeroes.
“I’m working on Smitty’s next album cover,” refering to Michael W. Smith. When Jimmy blithely mentions his chats with “Amy” we pretty much know who he’s talking about.
I admit I didn’t fact-check this story, but sure has a ring of truth to it.
I tried to find references to this lyric online, so help me out, people. Leave a comment if you got something.