Let Them Fall Away

This afternoon, out of sheer randomness, and listening (of course) to the Avetts, Chris Whitley presented himself strongly in my mind.  A few moments later I realized it must be near the anniversary of his death because every year he’s visited me in a similar way, although I couldn’t even tell you even the season he died in if you asked me out of the blue.  That will probably change now that I have Ella’s anniversary to connect it to, but still… Chris’s hold on my soul is real and tangible.

My introduction to Chris Whitley was through the Thelma and Louise soundtrack (first CD I ever bought!) and then shortly after I got Living With the Law.  That music in no small part helped shape the vision I created of a life out west that was realized when we moved to New Mexico.  His music was so evocative of sparse landscapes, open roads, and, yes, big skies.  As his music evolved he became singularly gifted in expressing regret, longing, reconciliation, and the glory in the anguish of such feelings through lyrics and musical phrasing.  It would be an understatement to say I’ve ever seen anyone play (steel guitar and stomp board) the way he played; it was nothing short of astonishing. The joy in seeing Chris play was as much in his gentle nature, his charismatic presence, and the depth of honest expression as it was in the music itself.

As time went on Chris’s art became almost too astonishing, more than I could wrap my head around at times.  But it was at those times when Jim became totally engrossed.  The more abstract Chris’s music became, the more inspired Jim was.  I had introduced Jim to Chris’s music when I took him to see him play at the 400 Bar in, like ’93 or ’94 -this was before I was seeing live music regularly and, really, one of the major reasons I started to make it a habit – and for Jim it was love at first listen.  About 3 songs in to the show he turned to me and said “We have to come back tomorrow night!”  Jim quickly replaced me as the biggest fan in the family.  Jim’s love for Chris was such that, in one attempt to meet Chris, he ended up frightening him back into the backstage area of the Fine Line …but I’ll let Jim tell that story…

Jim’s love for Chris was also such that when I read the news late one night on a message board that he had passed I knew I needed to wake Jim to tell him, just as I would if we’d lost a member of our family.  We knew Chris wasn’t long for this world, based on his brilliance alone, not to mention his general well being, but it didn’t make losing him any less painful.  Thank you Chris, for the music, the example, and for keeping such a strong hold on my heart.

Dirt Floor – Chris Whitley

There’s a dirt floor underneath here
To receive us when changes fail
May this shovel loose your trouble
Let them fall away

Well the mist shall be your blanket
While the moss shall ease your head
As the future is soon forgotten
As the dirt shall be your bed

There’s a dirt floor underneath here
To receive us when changes fail
May this shovel loose your trouble
Let them fall away

~ by Kirsten on November 18, 2009.