A Facebook friend messaged me last week to ask my thoughts on Jim Ellison, the singer/guitarist/songwriter of the Chicago band Material Issue, who took his own life in 1996.
My band was on a new music compilation with Material Issue back in the 80s and I think we played a brief set with then at SXSW at one point. I didn't appreciate them as much as I should have at the time but am rediscovering them now much to my enjoyment. It's really nice reading respectful and compassionate remembrances like this about Jim even though by most accounts he could be difficult. Thank you for sharing!
Hi John, I just stumbled over this and found it quite interesting. I saw the Blake Babies a few times in Chicago and always admired your musical stylings. I also saw Material Issue numerous times around Chicago (including at Batteries Not Included). I would regularly see Jim around the bars on the northside as well. I really don't have much to add except thank you for sharing your memories, I appreciate it.
What a beautifully honest and powerful remembrance. Jim was complicated. He wrote simple songs and presented as someone who was easy to slot into what this story aptly describes as a tribal identity -- preening rocker -- but there was a lot more to it than that. There usually is. Goddamn, that image of him in sunglasses staring out the window of the bus. To me, that's the lasting legacy of Jim Ellison, even more than the music. The many people whose lives he touched and the weird way so many of them learned from his demise that there's often more than meets the eye.
Thanks my friend. Truly appreciate that. I like to think I've evolved since then, and I misread that situation. I was in a fog of war that summer, a tourist invited to be in this huge band. I'm grateful to Evan for opening that door to me, but it was profoundly disorienting. It led to some fun times. But yeah, main point is we probably had a lot in common, and I'm sure he was a lot more interesting than I considered. I read his introversion or whatever it was as some sort of personal slight. Now I see that it almost certainly had nothing to do with me, or our bands, or any of that shit.
I appreciate your candor. I'm now thinking about a friend from that time whose band did a cover of Valerie Loves Me (the only fraternity party I ever went to was to see them play). At the time, he was struggling with mental health issues and was struggling with the antidepressants of the time that he'd been prescribed. He survived, but my goodness--that was a rough time for so many people.
My band was on a new music compilation with Material Issue back in the 80s and I think we played a brief set with then at SXSW at one point. I didn't appreciate them as much as I should have at the time but am rediscovering them now much to my enjoyment. It's really nice reading respectful and compassionate remembrances like this about Jim even though by most accounts he could be difficult. Thank you for sharing!
Hi John, I just stumbled over this and found it quite interesting. I saw the Blake Babies a few times in Chicago and always admired your musical stylings. I also saw Material Issue numerous times around Chicago (including at Batteries Not Included). I would regularly see Jim around the bars on the northside as well. I really don't have much to add except thank you for sharing your memories, I appreciate it.
Thank you!
What a beautifully honest and powerful remembrance. Jim was complicated. He wrote simple songs and presented as someone who was easy to slot into what this story aptly describes as a tribal identity -- preening rocker -- but there was a lot more to it than that. There usually is. Goddamn, that image of him in sunglasses staring out the window of the bus. To me, that's the lasting legacy of Jim Ellison, even more than the music. The many people whose lives he touched and the weird way so many of them learned from his demise that there's often more than meets the eye.
Thanks my friend. Truly appreciate that. I like to think I've evolved since then, and I misread that situation. I was in a fog of war that summer, a tourist invited to be in this huge band. I'm grateful to Evan for opening that door to me, but it was profoundly disorienting. It led to some fun times. But yeah, main point is we probably had a lot in common, and I'm sure he was a lot more interesting than I considered. I read his introversion or whatever it was as some sort of personal slight. Now I see that it almost certainly had nothing to do with me, or our bands, or any of that shit.
I appreciate your candor. I'm now thinking about a friend from that time whose band did a cover of Valerie Loves Me (the only fraternity party I ever went to was to see them play). At the time, he was struggling with mental health issues and was struggling with the antidepressants of the time that he'd been prescribed. He survived, but my goodness--that was a rough time for so many people.