Jerry Lee Lewis honored as ‘ American Music Master’

Lewis honored as ‘ American Music Master’



By Bob Mehr (Contact)
Dimanche, Novembre 11, 2007
CLEVELAND, Ohio -- When all was said and done, Jerry Lee Lewis did not kick over any stools, did not set his piano alight, or wail songs of fire. Instead, he played and sang gently and beautifully of rainbows and bluebirds, and left very few dry eyes in the house.


Photos by Karen Pulfer Focht/The Commercial Appeal

Jerry Lee Lewis performed one song, "Over the Rainbow," as part of the 12th Annual American Music Masters event honoring him this weekend in Cleveland as a rock and roll legend.


Actor and songwriter Kris Kristofferson presents Lewis, 72, with a statuette naming him the 2007 "American Music Master" during the celebration in Cleveland. Lewis was the first living recipient of the honor.





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Jerry Lee Lewis honored



Rock and Roll legend Jerry Lee Lewis was honored and given the American Music Masters award from the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Museum in Cleveland on Saturday.






















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Well into the autumn of his years, Lewis' body may have begun to wither, but his stature as one of the singular artists of all time has only grown. On a chilly Saturday night in Cleveland, he joined two of his personal heroes -- Jimmie Rodgers and Hank Williams -- in being honored by the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Museum and Case Western Reserve University as an "American Music Master."
A three-hour tribute concert at the Playhouse Square's State Theatre capped a week-long celebration titled "Whole Lot of Shakin': The Life and Music of Jerry Lee Lewis." Previous years had seen Rodgers, Williams, Leadbelly and Sam Cooke, among others, recognized, but Lewis was the first-ever living recipient of the honor.
Still irascible and unpredictable at age 72, much speculation had centered on whether Lewis would show for the concert, and whether the resident of Nesbit, Miss., would actually perform if he did.
The first answer came just after 8 p.m., as the State Theatre suddenly began to stir, and a spotlight caught the corona of Lewis' hair as he made his grand entrance, cutting a path through the middle of the audience and walking gingerly toward a seat in the front row as camera flashes exploded around him.
With the evening's honoree in place, Rock Hall CEO and President Terry Stewart and Case Western's Arts and Sciences dean Cyrus Taylor introduced the event's MC, actor and songwriter Kris Kristofferson. Praising Lewis as "the export that put Ferriday, Louisiana, on the map" Kristofferson seemed nervous but genuinely excited to be honoring a man he called "a true giant."
The program kicked off with a contingent of Lewis' old Sun Records cronies. First up was Billy Lee Riley, who vamped his way through Lewis' "Great Balls of Fire" (a song that he played guitar on) and his own signature "Flying Saucers Rock 'n' Roll" (a track that featured a young Lewis on piano). "Cowboy" Jack Clement, the Sun engineer who first encountered Lewis in Memphis a half century ago, then worked up "It'll Be Me," warbling the song with his usual insouciant charm. Things hit a speed bump early on, however, as blues-rock kingpin George Thorogood came out to perform "Rockin' My Life Away" but launched into "Hi Heel Sneakers" instead, confusing a fine house band -- led by keyboardist and former Memphian Bobby Wood -- and nearly derailing the show's early momentum.
The set recovered with the appearance of Narvel Felts. Like Lewis an early Sun artist and later a country hitmaker, the lanky, hawkish Felts belted out a spirited rendition of the Killer's "High School Confidential" before hitting all the vaulting high notes of his own ballad (and Lewis favorite) "Cry," which garnered one of the few standing ovations of the evening.
In between acts, a big screen projected moments from Lewis' career, and none was greeted as enthusiastically as his famed career-making 1957 appearance on "The Steve Allen Show." As a wild-eyed, wild-haired Lewis banged out a manic "Whole Lot of Shakin' Going On," it was as if "in the space of two-and-half minutes you could hear parents locking their doors, but also hear records selling," noted Kristofferson admiringly.
Though none of the performers could match the intensity of Lewis' heyday, the lineup of artists each captured an aspect of his work and rambling musical spirit: NRBQ vet Terry Adams' new Rock & Roll Quartet put an avant-pop spin on "End of the Road" before launching a good-timey take on the Southern anthem "Dixie"; country-soul diva Shelby Lynne hammed it up, addressing her playful renditions of "Who Will the Next Fool Be" and "That Lucky Old Sun" directly to Lewis in the audience. Roots guitar ace Sleepy LaBeef paid homage to one of the Killer's formative influences, gospel shouter Sister Rosetta Tharpe, playing her "Strange Things Happen Every Day," while bluegrasser Del McCoury applied his high tenor to creative reworkings of "What's Made Milwaukee Famous (Has Made A Loser Out of Me)" and "Break Up."
Throughout the evening, the performers peppered their turns with anecdotes and reminiscences about Lewis, but none was more telling than the rockabilly hellcat Wanda Jackson's tale. Before growling her way through "Breathless," Jackson recalled traveling through Canada on a late-'50s package tour that included Lewis. Finding herself with a Sunday evening off, she asked a group of her fellow musicians if anyone wanted to attend church services. After a long, deafening silence, Lewis alone spoke up and volunteered to accompany her. "Sitting in that little Baptist church with you, singing from the same hymn book -- that's a sweet, sweet memory," offered Jackson warmly.
The concert proved to be quite the family affair as well, a point hammered home by the appearance of the Lewis 3, a group comprised of Jerry Lee's sister Linda Gail, and her daughters, Annie Marie Dolan and Mary Jean McCall. With Linda Gail at the piano -- an instrument she came to late in life, but evinced the familiar Lewis mastery -- the women sang a spirited "Good Golly Miss Molly" with a rousing false ending that invigorated the crowd.
If there was one truly anticipated appearance, though, it was that of Lewis' first cousin, Rev. Jimmy Swaggart. As he took his place at the piano, the wings of the stage suddenly filled up with a phalanx of fellow performers curious to see what the famed televangelist would do.
Swaggart spoke in booming tones of his deep bond with Lewis: "To say I love my cousin would be an understatement," he said, noting that they'd literally grown up together learning to play on the same piano. The two men, who share a middle name and a profound Pentecostal background, chose differing paths with their lives; Swaggart acting as the good son while Lewis became the proverbial black sheep -- though they'd occasionally switch roles over the years.
While his oratory was moving, Swaggart's performance was the real revelation: he sang a gorgeous version of "Precious Lord, Take My Hand" that was deeply soulful and downright bluesy, pitched perfectly between the church house and the roadhouse.
Kristofferson, clearly surprised and moved by Swaggart's appearance, found his voice choked with emotion as he addressed Lewis: "I love you, and love all you've given to us," he said, recovering in time to quip, "in a manly sort of way."
With that, he introduced the final guest of the night, Ohio native and Pretenders front woman Chrissie Hynde. The lithe, stylish Hynde essayed the sawdust floor standard, "Crazy Arms" with a surprising authority ("I feel that country album sneaking up on me," she joked) before capping her appearance with a frolicsome "Whole Lot of Shakin' Going On" that found her dancing free spiritedly at song's end.
Finally, Kristofferson called Lewis to the stage to accept a statuette honoring him as the 2007 "American Music Master." Looking very much his 72 years, Lewis gripped the trophy but never really raised his head to the audience, seeming almost bashful as the crowd rained down its applause.
It was almost as if, after a lifetime of singing his own praises and defending himself against the proverbial slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, he was unsure how to respond to an evening of such unreserved adulation and affection. So, instead, he did what came naturally: He played the piano.
As the entire cast of performers gathered round him, Lewis plunked himself down in front of the black Steinway grand, picked out the first familiar loping notes of "Over the Rainbow" and began to sing.
It was a brilliantly surreal valedictory, as Lewis -- the Killer, the conduit of the "devil's music," the tragedy-plagued, hard-living rock and roll rogue -- crooned sweetly, innocently, and longingly about a land "where troubles melt like lemondrops." It was the kind of contradiction that Lewis -- always keenly aware of the push and pull of his competing impulses -- must have savored.
As the curtain came down and the crowd shuffled toward the exits, Lewis had one final parting shot. The big screen flashed a film clip of the singer sitting in Sun studios in the late '80s. Reminiscing about his music, he delivered his familiar, oft-repeated proclamation about how there are only four original stylists in the history of American music: "Al Jolson, Jimmie Rodgers, Hank Williams ... and Jerry Lee Lewis."
This time, though, he did not punctuate his boast with a laugh or a leer, but something of an apologia. Reflecting on his enormous natural gifts and talents, he paused for a long while, and then added: "That's just how it is. I didn't make it that way ... God did."
And on a cold night in Cleveland, the Lord's handiwork never sounded so good.
-- Bob Mehr: 529-2517

source

http://www.commercialappeal.com/news/2007/nov/11/cold-night-cleveland-killer-warms-hall-fame/