Josh Clayton-Felt "Building Atlantis"

I'm on vacation this week, so here's another We Used To Play This post:

This song could have been a hit.  We played it.  But circumstances were really what prevented its success.

Josh Clayton-Felt was a Boston-based musician who had success in the 90s with his band School Of Fish, and had a minor alternative solo hit called "Window" in the mid-90s.

He was working on a follow-up, when he was diagnosed with a rare form of testicular cancer.  He passed away within a month.

His label released the record, but when an artist is unable to tour or even interview in support of a record, that record has a hard time gaining any traction.

mvyradio played "Building Atlantis" but the record slipped from public consciousness, and our playlist, not long after.


Hear the song on Youtube.

Tim Krekel “Casualties”

Hitting Random on the iTunes list . . .

“What does this song make me think about” is the game I play here, daily. And sometimes a really clear picture of a moment or idea pops into my head.

And other times, it’s like a pumpkin hitting the pavement. So many thoughts and emotions and ideas hit at once, in a bit of a jumble.

Today, it's the latter.

Tim Krekel died this year. Cancer. Quickly.

He’d found out that he was sick in March. By June 24th, he was gone.

On June 24th, my wife and I were in this room (I’m writing, on my laptop, at home), working on details for my sister’s impromptu wedding, scheduled for the 27th.

She had cancer. She was gone a month later. Cancer. Slowly.

Eight years she fought cancer. It kept coming back. She fought. Literally, Fought. Angrily.

Tim Krekel didn’t know he was sick when he wrote “Casualties,” for 2007’s “Soul Season.” It’s a song about lifting off the burdens of your troubles, despite the hardship of life.

Though he was a star in his hometown of Louisville, Krekel had never achieved the mainstream National success of the folks he worked with, including NRBQ, Jimmy Buffett (he plays on “Son Of Son Of A Sailor”) or even Kim Richey (with whom he co-wrote “Come Around”). But when he knew he was dying, he still was able to describe his as “a most wonderful life.”

Just 10 days before he was gone, he decided to get married, and, he got hitched in a private ceremony.

My sister did the same thing. When she knew her time was at the end, she and her long-time boyfriend got hitched in a private ceremony.

At that point, in June, she was weak enough that she had to be in a wheelchair. And within a couple of weeks, cancer in her brain took away her most of her ability to speak.

In the end, she could only conjure up a handful of words. They included “No,” but not “Yes.” And “Fuck.”

I met Tim Krekel once. Just once. So I’m placing a lot on him, as I think about the parallels and perpendiculars and particulars between him and my sister, and how they left.

My wife just looked across the room and asked “Are you still at it?” I’ve been working on this post for a couple of hours now.

I started with a jumble. I’ve touched on the things I wanted to think about. But I don’t know how I want to end here.

How to leave it. I guess that’s the question, isn’t it?


Hear a clip of "Casualties" plus a Buffett track Tim played on, and several clips of songs he co-wrote:


See The Tim Krekel Orchestra perform "Casualties" live and check him out on acoustic guitar, supporting Jimmy Buffett on Saturday Night Live, 1978.

Tim played guitar during one of the best, funniest, most personally memorable interviews I ever did, when I talked to Kami Lyle, in Louisville.

Buy "Soul Season".

Weezer “Island In The Sun”

You know how you can hear a song for years, and suddenly something happens in your life and you hear it completely differently? Like when you get dumped and instantly every love song you hear sounds like it was written especially for you?

“Island In The Sun” has had a nice association for years. When my wife was still my girlfriend, and she was living on the mainland and commuting to the Island to see me every weekend, I made a CD of all “Island” songs, that was exactly the length of a Steamship Authority ride. Our “Island In The Sun” was our little cocoon of new love.

Then that changed.

We had a wedding for my sister Amy a few weeks back. Amy had been battling brain cancer for over 7 years. She and her Adam had been holding off and holding off on having their wedding, hoping for a break in her health.

(***Quick political side note: As health care reform becomes part of the National discussion, please consider that Amy and Adam could not get legally married, because if they did, her insurer had the right to boot her off my family’s health insurance, leaving her uninsured and uninsurable. How can that possibly be right?***)

Unfortunately, Amy’s health news just got worse and worse this year, as doctor’s found a 5th brain tumor. Three different courses of chemotherapy were tried, to no avail. In the last few months, Amy slowly lost her ability to talk, to move her right side, to remember what happened a just few hours ago.

Knowing that her time was limited, we threw together a commitment ceremony, as a way for the families to acknowledge Amy and Adam’s love. My wife and I were in charge of putting together a slideshow of pictures of the couple.

We asked the bride-and-groom-to-be what song we should set the video to, and they both requested Weezer. I know that was one band they had in common (Adam likes a lot of country). Amy even has a Weezer/Kermit The Frog t-shirt.

If you ever have put together a slideshow or video or something of that kind, you know you listen to the song over and over and over again. And my wife and I couldn’t help but be struck by the lyrics, and realize that this wasn’t our song any longer; that it was Amy’s.

On an island in the sun
We'll be playing and having fun
And it makes me feel so fine
I can't control my brain

We'll run away together
We'll spend some time forever
We'll never feel bad anymore

Amy died yesterday. 32 years old.

Her last few weeks were so difficult, as she became incapacitated and unable to communicate even the simplest of needs, that when she passed, right before my eyes, I couldn’t help thinking of that last line. As I felt the weight leave her, and us, I knew that she’d never feel bad anymore.

Hear Weezer “Island In The Sun”

See Amy and Adam’s wedding slideshow here.