Goodbye Lonnie Mack
With the recent passing of Prince, the death of Lonnie Mack, a true roadhouse, rock & roll legend, is likely to get lost in the mix. Lonnie emerged in that period between the first generation of rock & roll musicians of the 1950's like Elvis, Chuck Berry and Fat’s Domino, and the British invasion, which came a decade later with The Beatles. He had his first hit in 1963 and racked up a couple more in short order before returning to relative obscurity, where he played clubs and did session worked as a guitarist and bassist. He played bass on some of the Doors best known material of the sixties. Mack’s legend among his fellow musicians was such that Jim Morrison—who was notoriously difficult to work with—was, according to the other members of the band, awestruck by Lonnie’s presence in the studio. Mack, apparently, didn’t hold Morrison in the same regard.
Lonnie Mack wasn’t just a good guitar player, he was a virtuoso and one of the most original guitar stylists in any musical genre ever. Listen to his playing on the instrumental “Wham” and you’ll see what I mean. Some have suggested that Mack’s style was derived from blues-man Robert Ward, who Mack openly identified as an influence. Beyond the use of the vibrato effect of the Magnatone amp that Ward used and Mack adopted, there was a world of difference. Mack’s use of the whammy bar was a complete departure from the way it had previously been used by Duane Eddy and the Ventures. And, his legato attack, with the long flowing lines and hammered notes had almost no precedent, not in T Bone Walker's playing, B. B. Kings, or any of the other superb blues and rock guitarists of the pre-Beatles era.
He was a uniquely fine and soulful singer, as well. Like Ray Charles, Mack naturally blended Black soul and gospel, White country music and roadhouse blues into a single voice, both as a guitarist and as a vocalist. And, he could just as easily play them as individual styles with absolute authority. This was long before such versatility was common or considered desirable, except among musicians. It was why Mack was hard to categorize and market as an artist. If he’d been a pretty boy it might have been different. Lonnie Mack looked like what he was, though, a burly country boy, more suited to roadhouse country music than British rock’s endogenous culture.
When he chose to Lonnie Mack could shine like a diamond, which he would do for brief periods, and then return to relative obscurity, where he seemed to be most comfortable.
Over the years he’d emerge and make a new record, maybe once decade or so. Some are rightly regarded as classics, especially his first two. The first one in 1963 and the second in 1969 are remarkably diverse and inventive. There were a couple of middling efforts in the seventies when he turned to country rock, minus most of the bluesy quality of his best work. But even then, Mack was true to form. He did what he wanted to, when he wanted.
Some artists seem to be built for the limelight. Others keep their distance, possibly because their roots go deeper than what showbiz has to offer. Lonnie Mack, in that regard, deserved more credit than he ever got. Although, there was probably enough reverence offered by the right people to keep his ego sufficiently stoked, I’d guess. Stevie Ray Vaughn was a big fan and produced and played on his comeback CD “Strike like Lightening” in 1985. Nearly thirty years later, rock’s new guitar hero Joe Bonamassa paid tribute, doing a near verbatim cover of Mack’s classic soul ballad “Why.” For the most part, though, Mack was a forgotten man.
Maybe, in the end, if the right people know your name, that’s good enough. And, if you can pay your bills, gig with your musical compatriots, while getting your back and ego scratched by a Stevie Ray or Joe Bonamassa, that will do. For Lonnie Mack, that seemed to be all he needed.
So, here’s to the Mack attack, as good as any, and a helluva a lot better than most. What else can I say my friend, except, you will be sorely missed.
Mark Magula
Lonnie Mack wasn’t just a good guitar player, he was a virtuoso and one of the most original guitar stylists in any musical genre ever. Listen to his playing on the instrumental “Wham” and you’ll see what I mean. Some have suggested that Mack’s style was derived from blues-man Robert Ward, who Mack openly identified as an influence. Beyond the use of the vibrato effect of the Magnatone amp that Ward used and Mack adopted, there was a world of difference. Mack’s use of the whammy bar was a complete departure from the way it had previously been used by Duane Eddy and the Ventures. And, his legato attack, with the long flowing lines and hammered notes had almost no precedent, not in T Bone Walker's playing, B. B. Kings, or any of the other superb blues and rock guitarists of the pre-Beatles era.
He was a uniquely fine and soulful singer, as well. Like Ray Charles, Mack naturally blended Black soul and gospel, White country music and roadhouse blues into a single voice, both as a guitarist and as a vocalist. And, he could just as easily play them as individual styles with absolute authority. This was long before such versatility was common or considered desirable, except among musicians. It was why Mack was hard to categorize and market as an artist. If he’d been a pretty boy it might have been different. Lonnie Mack looked like what he was, though, a burly country boy, more suited to roadhouse country music than British rock’s endogenous culture.
When he chose to Lonnie Mack could shine like a diamond, which he would do for brief periods, and then return to relative obscurity, where he seemed to be most comfortable.
Over the years he’d emerge and make a new record, maybe once decade or so. Some are rightly regarded as classics, especially his first two. The first one in 1963 and the second in 1969 are remarkably diverse and inventive. There were a couple of middling efforts in the seventies when he turned to country rock, minus most of the bluesy quality of his best work. But even then, Mack was true to form. He did what he wanted to, when he wanted.
Some artists seem to be built for the limelight. Others keep their distance, possibly because their roots go deeper than what showbiz has to offer. Lonnie Mack, in that regard, deserved more credit than he ever got. Although, there was probably enough reverence offered by the right people to keep his ego sufficiently stoked, I’d guess. Stevie Ray Vaughn was a big fan and produced and played on his comeback CD “Strike like Lightening” in 1985. Nearly thirty years later, rock’s new guitar hero Joe Bonamassa paid tribute, doing a near verbatim cover of Mack’s classic soul ballad “Why.” For the most part, though, Mack was a forgotten man.
Maybe, in the end, if the right people know your name, that’s good enough. And, if you can pay your bills, gig with your musical compatriots, while getting your back and ego scratched by a Stevie Ray or Joe Bonamassa, that will do. For Lonnie Mack, that seemed to be all he needed.
So, here’s to the Mack attack, as good as any, and a helluva a lot better than most. What else can I say my friend, except, you will be sorely missed.
Mark Magula