Jim Carroll at The Blind Pig (Ann Arbor, MI), 20 March 1998
and Magic Stick (Detroit, MI), 21 March 1998
Review by Eric Jackson
Friday Night, Ann Arbor
Well a lot has happened since I first came across Jim Carroll. I was 17 years old and my sister bought me a copy of The Basketball Diaries and Forced Entries for my birthday. This was 1985. I first read Basketball Diaries and liked it so well I went straight into Forced Entries. What struck me about Jim Carroll was not the stories he told but rather the way he said so much, with so few words. His sharpness, his attacking wit. Strong, slowly crafted words. Well thought out and properly placed. I was hooked. My new aspiration was my own development of the English language. I also wanted to know more about this guy in New York. I found through my sister Tutti Jackson, shes kind of a musical legend in Columbus, she was on the first Liz Phair album singing backup, that Jim had a band for a while, so I immediately picked up every piece of Jim Carroll I could find. I loved his musical style, all those poignant crafted words over music. So much emotion, so much to say. When I started a band in Columbus, The Young Smithsonians, we regularly played Jim Carroll songs. Every once in a while I would pick up a Village Voice and see if Jim was any where to be found in the listings.
So, here I am 30 years old and 13 years later. I regret that myself and Jim have never crossed paths. Once about 5 years ago, I went to go see him in Toronto but he didn’t show.
It’s Friday night in Ann Arbor, Doors open 9:30pm. I show up about 9. The line is already to the end of the block. Im very surprised by this, almost astounded. I wonder how so many people even know who he is. I wonder if before The Basketball Diaries–The Movie–he would have had this kind of crowd. I guess we always think that things that hit us hard are personal experiences. The crowd here is very young. There is a faction of 30 to 50 something intellectual writer types but we are a small group. Mostly college age kids. There are also groups of boys together, looking very much like the clan from Basketball Diaries. I guess this shouldn’t be a surprise. I guess I thought I wanted to be Kevin Bacon after I saw Footloose. I guess some things don’t change. This show is sold out. the place is packed. Kids sit on the floor while a large crowd gathers behind them. Its kind of push and shove, and its very warm. So it’s 10pm the place is packed and were all standing around. Jim comes on about 11. He seems rushed and slightly disoriented. He takes a full 5 min. before he says a word. He tries to organize his notes, he struggles. He first announce that the management of the venue wants him to get people to stand instead of sit. He says he dosen’t t care either way. He seems thrown off by the role of usher. He then makes a comment about his low tolerance for alcohol and the long day hes had. His start is a little shaky.
His opening reading is from the new novel to be published this fall. It talks about the main characters scene at the Valasquez retrospective at the M.O.M.A. He reads the story about Veal masturbation. and then starts in on the new poems, a book of poems that will be out this spring, He tells the poem for Curt Cobain and a new one called “Jukebox for Jim Gustafson.” He ask if Jim and his wife ann are in the crowd. This becomes significant on Saturday night in Detroit. Jim was apparently a poet from Detroit. Who at one time lived with Jim Carroll in California. It turns out on Saturday, Jim finds out that Jim Gustafson died a couple of years ago. Jim finishes with “the answering machine message” or as i like to call it “I am the fucking river.” He talked for about and hour and seemed generally uninspired and uncomfortable. I expected more. I had tickets to see him in Detroit on Saturday but thought about not going. I’m glad I did go. It was going to be a good ride.
Saturday, Detroit
I get to the Magic Stick about 10pm. Much larger venue then Ann Arbor. Very comfortable. Great crowd. This place is right in the heart of the city. Steam coming out of the city street vents all around. Slightly depressed area. All in all a great venue. The crowd here is much more a mix match of people. A little of this a little of that. Looks like a good well rounded support of the arts. Jim comes on about 11pm. He seems energetic and focused. He announces that his friend Jon Stewart is here. You know the guy from MTV. He also announces he was in Ann Arbor last night and he wants to do something different. He starts off telling a story about the Clarion hotel by the airport. Apparently they were having a “little miss sunshine” contest, one of those Jon Benet Ramsey kind of things there. The story was really funny. He talked about the pathetic nature of the contest and how he was worried about getting tagged a pedophile. After that he picked up forced entries and said this is my book Forced Entries, I’m going to read from it. He said there wasn’t a chance in hell of him reading from the Basketball Diaries, he said if he would of known better it would of been about a boat, Me and Leonard Decaprio on a boat. This drew huge cheers. He read, “Times Square’s Cage,” “A Day at the Races,” “Tiny Tortures,” and by special request “The Loft Party”–he did a bang up job imitating William S. Burroughs. He followed this with “8 Fragments for Kurt Cobain,” “Jukebox for Jim Gustafson,” he announced he found out Jim died a couple of years ago. Then on request he did “I Want the Angel.” He had to stop in the middle because he couldn’t remember the words. He went in to a new song and announced that there was a new music album coming. He went right back into “I Want the Angel” and finished it word for word. He announced proudly, “That’s what patience and perseverance gets you, mister” the whole crowd cheered. Jim continued on and was full of energy all night. he pranced and crouched all over the stage. I came away from it all a huge Jim Carroll fan again. He has good words yet to write. I like to give special thanks to Rebecca for making the evening truly special. It wouldn’t have been the same without you.