Jimmy LaFave: The Influence of a Musical Uncle
In Memory 7/12/1955–5/21/2017
Jimmy LaFave has always been my uncle, but this picture marks a more definitive beginning of his influence on me.
I was 8 or 9 years old and had asked him to pose in a picture with me as proof that I had a famous uncle. I distinctly remember it being to impress a girl, and I probably had my friend Gary do the actual talking to the girl when the time came. I’ve always liked telling people he’s my uncle, though I feel like he always played down the “famous” part in his humility.
We used to listen to Jimmy’s CDs in the car growing up. I’ve always been a fan, and would be whether or not we were related.
As I got older, the annual Woody Guthrie folk festival became a great event to attend, and Jimmy was always kind enough to let me and whichever friend I brought backstage to hang out.
At one particular festival, which had to have been over 15 years ago, he gave me an Intellitouch brand guitar tuner. It was when they first developed the tuners that tuned by vibration so you could tune even in a loud environment. He was a spokesman for them at the time and was able to give me a free one. I still used that same tuner until very recently, and it worked well. (though it was in two pieces instead of one after years of use).
Christmas Eve 1999 will still go down in history as Jimmy at his funniest. I’m not sure how it all happened but with Jesse LaFave (my cousin) jamming some cover tunes on guitar for background noise, Jimmy grabbed the mic and began improvising humorous lyrics over the familiar tunes. There’s a video of the highlights on my YouTube channel, and I still enjoy sharing it occasionally for new fans of Jimmy.
Jimmy’s sense of humor is part of what made his shows so fun. The banter in between songs with his band or the audience was always right on.
I never really felt comfortable asking him if I could play a song or two to open for him, or if he could help me out with my own music recording in some way. To be fair when he first heard my early stuff I’m not sure I had the caliber of musicianship to be worthy of stage time with him. I also felt it would be an unfair advantage to use the family connection, though I’m sure he would have obliged in some way.
In college, I began covering some of his songs while sitting on the street corner in Stillwater across from Willie’s Saloon playing for the passers-by. I would always open my “set” with a cover of “Never Be Mine” to get things going. Later, my cover band, The Huntsmen, had a standing gig at Willie’s. It was great to stand in Jimmy’s footsteps for a while. He had played the same bar during his early Stillwater days as well, and a sign with his name on it still hung on the wall all those years later.
In Austin, musically, I had stuck to the open mic night circuit. I nearly always played at least one Jimmy cover. My favorites to play were “Vanished” and “Going Home” Nearly every time, someone in the audience would recognize the song, or have heard of Jimmy. During one open mic night in particular, there was another guy who covered “Only One Angel” in his set right after mine. Total coincidence, but it brought up a good conversation about Jimmy.
My desire to perform with him, even just once, happened at a performance he did on Christmas 2016. When no one in the audience knew all the words to Silent Night, I set my nerves aside and spoke up for the first time. He called me up and I sang the classic Christmas tune (though I chose too low of a key) side by side with the man who had a strong influence on me, but perhaps never knew the full extent of it. I could finally say I sang with Jimmy on stage.
When he invited me up for the closing songs where he frequently brings up other musicians to jam on familiar tunes, I felt honored to stand beside him. This was huge for me, and I talked about it for days afterward. I’m sure Juliet got tired of hearing me play the video of it over and over, but to me, it represented being a part of something I had dreamed of for years. I got to share the stage, for a moment, with Jimmy.
Jimmy was always gracious with his time, and always made time for family. I saw him for the last time a month or two before we moved back to Oklahoma from Austin, to introduce him to our new baby girl, (his great-niece). He held her for a while, and he seemed for a moment to forget about all of the other cares in the world.
With all he had been going through, the new life in the room brought a smile to his face. My mom said the last time she spoke with him when he was a day or two away from dying, he had said of her that, “she’s the most beautiful baby girl”, or something to that effect.
I remember listening to Jimmy’s albums during our morning music time together when she was still tiny. In the quiet hours of the morning, I used to sit in the recliner and rock her, while listening to my favorite music. Jimmy comes into rotation quite often. Those are the moments I remember best.
A tribute show was held in Austin to celebrate him just prior to his passing, and one of my big regrets is I was not able to attend with the rest of the family. Having just finished our move to Oklahoma, I didn’t have the time off to make a trip down to Austin. I left him a voicemail on his phone that I’m not sure he ever received. And, then, on May 21, 2017, he was gone.
I don’t know that I could say anything truly profound here, I just wanted to reminisce on my uncle. Jimmy influenced me without ever knowing to what extent, mostly because I was afraid to tell him. My goal as a musician was always to come close to the same measure of skill and composure on stage as him. My voice even began to take on some of his raspy tone over time.
That side of the family experienced a huge loss when Jimmy passed away, and then his dad a few months later. Last year, his sister (my mom) died as well. It was a tough few years for the LaFaves. I didn’t get to see him at the end, but to borrow a line from one of his tunes,
“If I don’t see you real soon, I’ll see you down the road someday.”
Love you, Jimmy!
Check out his tunes on Apple Music
