Charlie Chesterman, still the King

“What am I supposed to do with those tears I expect I’ll cry after reading only two sad lines: ‘My Dear Charlie- Goodbye’? I could fill a bathtub and have tears to spare, or swim home to happiness on an ocean of beer.” – Charlie Chesterman

Man, we all lost out. Somehow Charlie’s been gone but not forgotten since Nov 2013 already, aged 53 years. Same age I am for another couple days, good lord willin’ (and mystifyingly the same age as Jerry Garcia when he died, but that’s another conversation entirely…).

I could just write pages upon pages on the shows alone. The nights blur together. The great Scruffy the Cat perennially swinging through Baltimore (8 x 10 Club and Max’s On Broadway and JHU venues and finally the DU house), or DC (the old 9:30 Club), New York (the Ritz… First opening for the Pogues (!?) and then between Camper Van Beethoven and Poi Dog Pondering), Northampton (Pearl Street), and of course Boston/Cambridge (TT the Bear’s Place of course). Then after I’d moved up to Boston/MA in ’90 I’d take in the Sawbucks and lotsa Harmony Rockets shows (the Rat, Bunratty’s, Nightstage, the Green Street Grill). Then it was many years on the lookout for the Legendary Motorbikes or maybe Charlie doing his solo thing (Kendall Cafe in Cambridge, Midway Cafe in JP, the Linwood Grill in the Fenway, Vincent’s Bar in Worcester, more TT’s in Central Squayah of course, and the great Lizard Lounge between Harvard and Porter). See the world!

The music lifted us all up and stopped time in its tracks, whether the well oiled power of Stephen, Mac, Randall and Burns with Scruffy or the easy, hey-gang-let’s-put-on-a-show vibe with Andy and Jim and the Motorbikes. It was amazing to watch how these various incarnations ticked, rumbled, shimmied, stalled, revved and took off. Getting a close up look was an extra joy. Charlie and the gang(s) taught me how to be a better musician and writer(and I suspect a notably worse dresser). Somehow ending up behind the curtain, however fleetingly, was just life changing. Every time I got to talk with Charlie before or after a show, or (weirdly) running into him on the street, or (way more weirdly) on the phone, or (my good lord) holding his Rickenbacker, or (pinnacle weirdness) discussing my own half-ass songwriting and recording, he raised the bar of class and generosity and peculiarity and good humor and joie de vivre. We lost one of the greats. We still have one of the greats.

I wish I could tell him but I’m happy to tell you, best I can. Here’s a start.

JK

Scruffy the Cat, Tiny Days (1987): “Time Never Forgets”

Scruffy the Cat, Moons of Jupiter (1988): “2Day 2Morrow 4Ever”

CC, From the Book of Flames (1994)- “Lovers’ Day”, “Pink Lemonade” “The Shabby Dress”

CC, Dynamite Music Machine (1997)- “Big Hairy Eyeball”, “Fireball”, “Where’d Ya Go?”

CC, Ham Radio (2000): “When I’ve Got Me”, “Gilded Harp of Love”