Monday, Sept. 11, 2023 6:26 am
Charlie Robison
I guess I'm mostly up because I woke up and started thinking about Charlie Robison at 4 a.m. He died yesterday and I am still in shock. Memories just keep pouring in. Memories and such a longing for that TIME and those friends I shared it with. It was so strange yesterday to hear that he had died and not really have anyone that I could call and share it with that would GET IT without me having to explain. I texted Mike, who was my audio engineer at our weekly concerts at Hill's Cafe. He was on the road home from a college football game he worked. He got it and was super sad. I texted John, who I used to describe here as the Sometimes Creepy Photographer. He was also with us on those Wednesday nights so most of the pictures I have of me and Charlie are courtesy of him. And I texted Marsha, who booked that series and I worked with later doing booking. She was especially sad, too, and remember the same story I was thinking about. I was so surprised she brought up that story because I had almost forgotten it.
The story is probably better if you knew Charlie. If you don't know him at all he was a very irreverent singer/songwriter in Texas. He was to be interviewed on my show one time and stood me up. To make it up to me he was going to do some special promotion with five lucky listeners. He stood them up, too. At our concert series I asked him specifically to keep the songs clean in the hour that was on the air broadcast. Nope, he did one with a glint in his eye. And when I signaled him to wrap up so our one hour broadcast could end, nope, he looks straight at me and says, "Hey lets do another!" Infuriating. But also so "nice" about it and impish and totally authentic and honest, I couldn't help but still love him.
The story: When I was doing the booking job and setting up shows with Texas singer/songwriters and bands, we booked Charlie a few times. He was booked by a Nashville agency. They had maybe a 25 page contract, stapled together, that had to be signed on every single page, unstapled, duplicated five times, and re-stapled and all copies except one returned to them in the mail. Yes, the Internet was well underway by that time, but we were still dealing with a lot of paper. It was a huge pain to have to put together his contracts and I dreaded it.
Contracts usually had the artist's rider in them. The rider is where the artist lists out their requirements beyond pay. They may want a six-pack of beer or a bottle of Cuervo or a dozen pairs of white socks or a stack of towels or a big plate of deli meats or a mean that is anything BUT deli meats, etc. You can find them on the Internet of the stars (Janet Jackson, I think, requires a brand new toilet seat be installed in her dressing room). They can be quite entertaining (Van Halen's green M&Ms). They can also be a pain and we often drew lines through most everything they requested because this wasn't Carnegie Hall, this was a cafe with a stage.
One night I was on the east side of Austin in the little juke joint my husband played at every week for years and years (they are having their 20th anniversary soon at maybe the fifth bar they've played at regularly on Mondays, but this cool place was the first and long gone now). The place was packed and I see Charlie was in there! This was definitely not the kind of place that famous people frequented unless they were supercool and in the know. Apparently Charlie was.
I caught up with him and told him where I was working these days (since we'd worked more together while I was in radio). And I told him I HATED his contracts because they were so complicated. He really took it to mean that I hated that he made so many requests in his rider. He said, "You know, J____, you ask for a blow job and you get a pat on the back. But you keep asking for a blow job and someday....you get a blow job."
That is great advice my friend. Don't get discouraged if you aren't getting what you are asking for. Keep asking. Not long after that I was backstage at a Joe Ely show we had booked. It was at a nice resort outside of town. There, in the green room, was every single item on Joe's rider. I had never seen a venue completely pay attention and do it up so right. Proof positive that you can get what you ask for (though, granted, Joe Ely didn't ask for a blow job).
I should have been assembling "words of wisdom" from musician over the years when I worked with them. That one from Charlie and Sam Allred telling me, "Who the hell cares?" are my favorites.
But Charlie was just 59 and had only been married to a new wife for 7 years. He has kids that are probably in college by now (from when he was married to Emily of the Chicks). His brother Bruce was more my friend than Charlie. The first time I had Bruce on the show he said, "I'm the NICE brother." That was so true. Nothing but cooperation and sweetness from Bruce. Bruce was the more dedicated songwriter and has the number one songs to prove it (Wrapped by George Strait, Travelin' Soldier by the Chicks, Angry All the Time by Tim McGraw). But Bruce isn't really the entertainer Charlie is and he doesn't sing as well as Charlie does. Did. Charlie wrote some beautiful songs and a lot of "novelty" songs that are incredibly clever ("You're Not the Best (but You're the Best That I Can Do)" and "Sunset Blvd."). But Charlie definitely did not have the good sense Bruce has and tended to overdrink. Probably more. Twenty years ago I probably knew he'd burn out faster, but within the last ten years I thought he had found a better path. He had some vocal chord issues and quit performing, but had recently begun to play again.
I've been listening to him on Alexa, but she mispronounces his name, like many people do, as RO (long O)-bison, when it really is just like Robertson, but Robison. Spotify doesn't seem to have maybe my favorite song... Feeling Good. There's a few Texas singer/songwriter songs that really make me feel GOOD and that is one. It lifts my spirits. I'll have to listen to it a few times today to feel better.