One night at the Continental Club, while Scrappy was putting
away his guitar after a Toni Price show, I asked him if he had written any
songs of his own. Scrappy told me that he was in a band called Loose Diamonds.
The next day at Cactus Records, I
purchased two Loose Diamonds CDs. Those CDs contained an interesting mix of
songs written by Scrappy and his bandmate, Troy Campbell. The Troy cuts were Bobby
Darin influenced ballads. The Scrappy cuts sounded like bootleg, unrecorded Stones songs. I was hooked and needed to
see the band live.
But before I ever saw Loose Diamonds, I went to a Kris McKay
CD release party at Cactus Records. That CD, Things That Show, included a cover of the Jo Carol Pierce song
“Loose Diamond.” At the time I had no idea of the connection between that song and
the name of Scrappy’s band. It turns out a long-haired fella (Willie Nelson) that
Red Duke had already introduced me to in the doctors’ dining room in Hermann
Hospital, had taken the name the Highwaymen for his project with Johnny Cash,
Waylon Jennings and Kris Kristofferson, without regard for the younger, scrappy
band.
The year was 1996. I lived less than a mile from an acoustic
venue called the Mucky Duck, and I kept their pub calendar on my refrigerator.
The previous year, during my fellowship at M.D. Anderson Cancer Center, I bought an acoustic guitar at Guitar Gallery and started playing songs that I
would have never played in the 70s when I stood on the altar and played songs
like my mother’s favorite (well, her mother’s name was Rose), “Bring Me a Rose,”
at my church named after a Byzantine bishop, St. Athanasius.
In 1996 I would go to Mucky Duck shows and come home and play my Yamaha guitar and
try to write my own songs, which I later shared in my living room with friends
like Gregg, who altered my lyrics ("alone in my room, again" became "a bone in my nose, again"), or Antonio Estevan Huerta, who already had a few songs of his own. But I digress.
Thanks to advance notice from the Mucky Duck, in the form of a calendar they mailed and I taped to my refrigerator (yes, millennial reader, venues used to snail mail their calendars), the next time the Loose Diamonds played the Duck, I had an advance ticket to see the band play in front Rusty and Teresa’s red velvet curtain on Norfolk. I recall sitting out back at the Duck between sets, talking to Troy and Mike Campbell for the first time that night.
Thanks to advance notice from the Mucky Duck, in the form of a calendar they mailed and I taped to my refrigerator (yes, millennial reader, venues used to snail mail their calendars), the next time the Loose Diamonds played the Duck, I had an advance ticket to see the band play in front Rusty and Teresa’s red velvet curtain on Norfolk. I recall sitting out back at the Duck between sets, talking to Troy and Mike Campbell for the first time that night.
It struck me that Troy wore his soul on his sleeve, and I
liked the open way he shared when he sang or spoke. In fact, I felt like I had
known Troy for five lifetimes. He told me about riding the coal truck in
Appalachia. I told him about visiting Susan there one summer when she and other
University of Dayton students worked with youth in the hollars. Troy’s time in
Appalachia sure gave him the street cred to cover Ralph Stanley.
The Loose Diamonds played at the Mucky Duck a few times more
than once that year that I discovered the band. They seemed to have worked out all the kinks Troy mentions in the documentary; Scrappy sure looked comfortable
on lead guitar. At the time I had no idea how much Robin Shivers, a cofounder
of Health Alliance for Austin Musicians, had done to promote the band. But I do recall Scrappy singing the praises
of Stephen Bruton, who produced a couple of their CDs. I never got to meet
Robin, but I came to love Stephen in the next decade as I watched him play with Scrappy on Sundays at the Saxon Pub in Austin.
As time wore on and I moved away from Texas, I still played
the band's CDs, including Fresco Fiasco,
the one that brought them NYT acclaim. Loose Diamonds reunion shows have provided many an excuse to
return to the Lone Star State. This November in Houston I had the pleasure of
reuniting with Troy, Scrappy and Mike while meeting some other die-hard LD fans--Scott, Brad, Jeff and Pats.
I look forward to meeting Shuichi Iwami, and I’m grateful to
him for creating his wonderful documentary, Diamonds in the Life. Aside from shaking loose some memories, the video taught me a
few things I didn’t know:
·
How Scrappy Jud got his nickname
·
What words Stephen Bruton used to describe the
band to Bonnie Raitt
·
Why rolling a third might be unrelated to
cannabis
·
What fresco
fiasco really means
“Excess is a sin I know, but it’s one in which I only seem
to grow.”
(Jud Newcomb, “Advice” Slow Roses/ASCAP)
