By Eric George Tauber
SAN DIEGO –Native son Jerry Joseph played at the Merrow, a club in the Hillcrest neighborhood, recently. The son of an international scientist, Jerry Joseph was born and raised in La Jolla, but you’d never know it. Nothing about this man indicates a silver spoon. I caught Jerry in his trek down the coast when he stopped for a Red Bull.
JJ: I was in Israel and the war started. That was two years ago.
EGT: Which war?
JJ: Not the last one, the Operation –they’ve got funny names for theirs. Hamas started dropping rockets on Tel Aviv two years ago, Operation Piercing Earlobe –or whatever the hell it was. They’ve got these cute names for all of them.
EGT: Did you have any trouble traveling to other parts of the Middle East after Israel?
JJ: You have to go to Israel last. In Beirut, we showed up at the gate and they said, ‘You’ve been cancelled. The show starts at eight.’ They had to publicly cancel it because the Israeli press had written about us. And they were worried that if anyone read that, there would be trouble. So they cancelled us and then the show would go on.
JJ: In Israel, a lady came up and said, ‘We’re so sorry. We sold tickets, but a war just broke out.’ Now in thirty years, I’ve heard every excuse in the music industry you can imagine, but that’s a new one. …For all of its issues, we had an amazing time in Israel. I did this show on a kibbutz that was one of the greatest things I’ve ever done musically.
I asked Jerry how he would describe his music to someone who had never heard it and he really had a hard time putting it into words. The Jerusalem Post article he referred to described it as “roots rock” and his most recent album “Happy Book” was “full of gritty meat-and-potatoes guitar-based rock and ballads.” (http://www.jpost.com/Arts-and-Culture/Entertainment/Arts-in-brief-All-star-band-takes-the-stage)
After hearing his show at the Merrow, I would describe it as driving and intense, dark and edgy, a reflection of the man himself. His music has looked at life through prison bars and rehab, yet keeps going with relentless tenacity. It’s old-school rock that embraces its Blues roots with wailing guitar riffs that do Buddy Guy proud.
EGT: Your band name is The Jackmormons. How did you come up with that one?
JJ: I have a special relationship with Utah. I had been incarcerated there years ago. So I went back to Salt Lake for a solo gig. I was clean and this friend of mine showed up with a bass player and said, ‘We’re going to be your band.’ And we wanted a name that was really Utah-ish. But we wanted to get away from desert motifs and beehives. My bass player was a returned missionary who became the punk rock godfather of Salt Lake City. We decided to call the band the ‘Jackmormons’. I’ve always regretted it because it’s really hard to explain in places like Germany. I was being interviewed on the radio, and he said, ‘So tell me, why do you hate the Mormons?’.
EGT: Now, you’ve been incarcerated for drug problems. Are you clean now or do you go back and forth?
JJ: I just celebrated my sixth year of sobriety. It was a back and forth thing for a while, but now there’s more at stake. So I think this one will stick. … It does make it difficult to travel in Ireland. When you order another club soda, they guy behind the bar looks like he wants to punch you.
EGT: You said earlier that it was a great time to be twenty, but a weird time to be fifty. Could you follow up on that?
JJ: With all of the different streaming services and the way they get high quality music and beautiful video and stuff, it’s more than anybody dreamed of, but nobody wants to pay for it. … I think people my age want to make a record. It’s what we grew up with. I don’t want to stream singles and Youtube stuff for the rest of my life. … We laugh about our BMI checks because the statements are an inch thick with 40,000 plays, but the check is for $300. So what do you do? I make my guarantee and I tour and I make enough of a living. My core fans –both of them- buy all my records. … I was playing in Kuala Lumpur and I agreed to do an open mic. I’d never played an open mic. It was these local Malay musicians and they were good. They introduced me to this young person. He said, ‘I wanted to give back to the community because I had a successful record.’ So I asked him, ‘What’s a successful record in Malaysia?’ He says, ‘Three million copies.’ No manager. No labels. Just a recorded song put out through social media sold three million copies. … If someone wants to get into the music business, get him on the next plane to India. Getting music out and bringing music in is wide open. I was in Afghanistan teaching kids to play guitar. They were all into heavy metal, Metallica and singing in Urdu. He asked, ‘Who wants to listen to songs in Urdu?’ I said, ‘Well, 300 million Pakistanis that you can reach.’ So in that way it’s super exciting.
EGT: What brought you to Afghanistan? Was it a USO tour? Were you initially playing for the troops?
JJ: No, I’m probably 180 from that. I’m as lefty anti-that as you can get. There’s a rock school there and a friend of mine had gone. He came back and said that these kids want to learn. The Taliban had started executing NGO and social workers. And he asked me if I would go. It wasn’t real popular with my family and it was a little dicey. But the kids, teenagers to early twenties, had risked a lot to come and learn. A friend of mine in Military Intelligence said that if you want to scare a fundamentalist, teach the kids how to make art and how to get it out. That’s the cure. I don’t know if the world needs six more people who can play Metallica riffs, but they were writing their own songs and it was amazing.
EGT: That would be pretty dicey with your family. With the NGOs being killed, many of them were medical personnel. You were taking a big risk because I’m sure the Taliban did not look kindly on a co-ed school of rock.
JJ: It’s important to note that I was in Kabul and those people weren’t being killed in Kabul. I’ve been in some weird places. I’ve been in some war zones. This was the first time that we were the enemy. Those helicopters were our helicopters. At the same time, I think people were really hoping that we would stay. I’ve done so many things to myself. It’s the kids who were really putting themselves at risk. My wife would tell you that I just did it to say that I did it.
EGT: Is that why you did it?
JJ: Sure. Of course. In some ways. A few years ago, I realized I was never gonna be a big enough rock star where they’re inviting me to play Saigon or wherever. So if I wanna go play those places, I’d better figure out how to do it on my own. … It’s been rewarding.
Jerry Joseph and the Jackmormons isn’t a big ticket band that you would see on a casino billboard. The Merrow is their kind of venue, a dark little dive with a stage and couple of pool tables. It’s not the kind of place where trendy hipsters dress up and stand in long lines to be seen. It’s where you hang out after a long day to lose yourself in the music. A consummate musician, Jerry Joseph doesn’t just “play” his music. It vibrates through every cell in his body. And judging from the body language of the house, the vibes were going through ours as well.
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Tauber is a freelance writer who specializes in the arts. He may be contacted via eric.tauber@sdjewishworld.com
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