Jerry Reed died yesterday. He was 71. In terms of music, it seems most people have certain artists or bands they can attach to different time periods in their lives. I may have had a few musical chapters through my years (Johnny Cash, The Velvet Underground, Boards of Canada), but I've only had two legitimate novels. Artists that slam you in the face and literally alter your life. My entire college experience/time in Nashville was about Morrissey. My post-college/coming into your own years/Los Angeles time was about Jerry Reed.

In December of '02 I bought my first Jerry Reed CD, Country Legends, on a whim at a mom and pop country music store hidden in an outlet mall in a snowed over Wentzville, MO. I knew "East Bound And Down" from being a huge fan of Smokey and the Bandit, but that was about it. I was instantly hooked and bought up everything I could find of his soon after. The following summer I actually got to see him play on one of his last tours. It was at the Warren County Fair out in the sticks of St.Louis. It was July4th and the hottest day I think I've ever experienced. I remember the concert, while being lots of fun, was also a little sad for the fact that Jerry's audience consisted only of 40 sunburnt people sitting on hay bails. None of whom seemed entirely interested. None of whom had flown from LA just for that show. Before and after the show I sat on those hay bails talking to my dad about how utterly pathetic my love life was not knowing that within five days I'd meet my wife.

I have often thought about what it is that makes me connect with Jerry Reed's music so much. How did I get so easily obsessed over some goofy 70's country icon that picked a mean guitar and wrote just as many bad songs as good ones? The best I can come up with is that he simply reminds me of the South and I discovered him during a time when I was trading the South in for the West Coast. While moving West has been the best thing to ever happen to me, the place where my brain, goals, ambition, friends and career lives, I will always feel like my heart, my family, my heritage and upbringing will always remain in the South. I suppose it's that part of you you can't ever fully go back to, even if you moved there. It's a state of mind more than a street address and a yard full of pine needles. For me, the "idea" of the South is a very peaceful and safe one that is highly valued in the hectic world I live in. Nothing transports me faster to that place than listening to Jerry's voice. I know I cling to his songs so strongly, not necessarily because they're the best ever written, but because it's the musical, almost tangible, expression of my upbringing and that "Southern" ideal. The same reason I flock to deer and tractor paraphernalia when taste clearly begs me not to.

So that's all I have to say. I'm glad I got to see him play once. I'm glad Jeremy Davis did a painting of him for me last year. I'm glad his music will still be around every time my brain needs a break.

Here is one my favorite songs of his that you can download: "The Likes of Me"

And here is one my favorite Youtube videos of his...