WHERE
The maturity and professionalism I read in Lily Guthrie’s articles,
that her proud momma and my friend Shayr shared with me,
were the inspiration behind my out-of-scene character of the interviewer.
So, for Lily I’ll just say…
You’ve got this.
Follow your star.
Many moons ago, I had the occasion to really listen to the song “Life in the Fast Lane” by The Eagles.
I’d heard it before, tons of times.
But on that listen, something struck me.
Being a romantic at heart, a romance novelist and addicted to romance for as long as I can remember, that song captured me as lyrics often do. Especially if a love story is told. Any kind of love story. Even the ones without happy endings.
Maybe especially ones without happy endings.
So much said in a few spare lines. So many emotions welling. And as is the magic of music, on each new listen, it happens again like you’d never heard that song before.
I became obsessed with it, inspired by this cautionary tale, and determined to find the right story that would fit that inspiration.
It was something I thought I’d fiddle with “someday,” which is where a great number of my ideas or inspirations are relegated.
Then I read Taylor Jenkins Reid’s Daisy Jones and the Six.
I have never, in my life, put down a book because I was loving it so much, I had to draw it out for as long as I could. And then, weeks later, I picked it up, only begrudgingly, because I knew opening that book again would mean finishing it, and I never wanted it to end.
The fresh, unique way TJR told that story as an oral history of a 70s rock band blew my mind.
The no-holds-barred, warts-and-all, brave, open, honest characterizations gripped me.
I was in love with Daisy on the first page.
My adoration of Billy swiftly came after.
I was enthralled by a band and a story that wasn’t even real, but it felt like it was.
Oh yes, it felt like it was.
Right in my gut.
I was what you should be with a piece of art.
Obsessed by it. Gripped by it. Moved by it.
Changed.
It was then it happened.
Slotting into place, these two inspirations worked so beautifully together—an epic 70s rock song, an innovatively-told fictional tale about a 70s rock band…
As Stephen King said, “If you don’t have time to read, you don’t have the time (or the tools) to write. Simple as that.”
My world opened upon reading Daisy Jones and the Six in more than one way, and I thank Taylor Jenkins Reid, and, of course, The Eagles, to the marrow of my bones for being the impetus for this happening.
I would break the bounds of my very own writing to explore new ways to tell a story. I would tackle difficult subject matter. I would present myself with a new challenge in a way I haven’t since I first started writing to share a raw, emotional story, break even more rules, rip the lid off creativity, make my story immediate to my readers, and I wouldn’t hold anything back.
It wasn’t that I wasn’t doing this before.
It was that I’d quit pushing the boundaries because I found my happy place in my writing…and I liked it.
But after reading Daisy Jones and the Six, I knew it was time to push down the accelerator, flip on the turn signal, and hit the fast lane.
[Off tape]
Just talk like you’re telling a story. But please do it clearly so the recording can pick you up.
[Jesse Simms, founding member and bassist of Preacher McCade and the Roadmasters clears his throat. There is a long pause.]
I know it’s a long story to tell, and some parts are difficult, but…
Jesse:
I didn’t know at first.
[Another long pause]
[Off tape]
You didn’t know what at first?
Jesse:
That it was her. That it was Lyla.
That once he met her, it was and always would be Lyla.
Jesse Simms, bassist, Preacher McCade and the Roadmasters, formerly Zenith:
It was my band. A lot of people don’t know that. It’s been in a few articles. A few books.
Everyone thinks it was Preacher’s band.
But it was me who started the band with Tim in my garage when I was sixteen.
Tim was lead guitar and lead singer. I was bass. We used to fuck around on our guitars a lot before we picked up Nicky and Ricky Pileggi. The twins. They were the rhythm section. Nicky on guitar, Ricky on drums.
Nicky and Ricky are lore though.
It’s funny, and you’ll see I’m not laughing, how everyone knows the story about Nicky and Ricky and not many know it was my fuckin’ band in the first fuckin’ place.
Not Preacher’s.
I see the look on your face.
And yeah, it became his band and not just because the name was changed. I know that. I knew it all along. I knew it when he took over my band. I wanted him to take it over. He was…he was…
He was Preacher McCade, man. Even before he was Preacher McCade, you know what I’m sayin’ to you?
A man like that, his looks, his talent, the way he was, especially the way he was, in that way, if a man like that wants your band, you give it to him.
But Preach and me, we got tight.
I mean, he changed my life even before it all went down, you know?
So it wasn’t that he was a badass. It wasn’t that he was a mean-as-a-snake motherfucker.
It was his talent, man.
I knew.
I knew with that man in my band, my band was going to be something.
And we were.
You hear that song “Click Click Boom” by Saliva?
That was way after us. But the minute I heard those lyrics, hey.
That was me. As a kid.
Everyone else was listening to Culture Club and Duran Duran and Kaja-fuckin’-googoo.
I was listening to Metallica. AC/DC. Iron Maiden. Whitesnake. And what I thought of as the “oldies.” Led Zeppelin. Pink Floyd. Rush.
And, man, from the beginning, Prince. I mean, overall, he was not my jam, but that dude could play a fuckin’ guitar. He could frame a song.
Fuck.
Sitting in my bedroom, plucking on my bass, listening to that music, dreams of being a juke box hero in my head.
So, I started a band.
And I had bad acne. Bet you know that. Everyone fuckin’ talks about that thanks to Nick. So, I couldn’t get a girlfriend or get laid if I made a deal with the devil to do it.
Nope, [shakes head] wrong about that.
Guess I made a deal with the devil in the end.
A devil named Preacher.
[Laughs]
Yeah.
Anyway, seein’ as I couldn’t do what every other sixteen-year-old boy wants to do, find some girl and fuck her, or at least hold her hand, I started a band.
But it was about the music for me too.
Yeah.
Totally.
All I wanted to do was rehearse and find gigs.
Nicky and Ricky, they’d rehearse all right. They weren’t as into it as Tim and me. But they were down to get good enough to find some gigs. Get paid in six packs. Get laid after.
We scored some basement parties. A few gigs out in some cornfields with generators and kegs and no one listening to a note we were playing because they were all smokin’ pot or feelin’ each other up.