“Hello again, Matthew,” writes Tell-Tale Hearts guitarist and stand-up guy Eric Bacher. “I’m sending a couple of photos for your future archives. One of the early TTHs in action, and one as I want to be remembered.”
Anything this online vehicle can do to burnish the Legend of Eric Bacher will be done! The Tell-Tale Hearts were close cousins to the Che Underground crew, and Mr. Bacher is a spiritual brother and a stalwart of this blog adventure (as are cherished fellow travelers Ray Brandes and Dave Klowden). Seeing his much-mourned green Gretsch in action evokes a lump in throat (and fond memories of our plans for month-long Bo Diddley jams).
Eric was always one of my favorite folk to hang out with, and I never felt like we did enough of it in our youth. I’m grateful for the time and virtual space to spend with him now!
Ray: When I first viewed the photo of Eric, I couldn’t figure out what the weirdly radiant, incised, rounded object was in the left foreground … Some sort of birthday-balloon fetish figure? Then I realized it was a closeup of one of your maracas!
It does go nicely with that tinsel streamer hanging down from the ceiling … Was this a Christmas show, or just a warmup for that bizarre Specimen gig?
Eric Bacher is my personal lord and savior.
Best halloween costume party every was a Hearts gig at a little shack on the boardwalk in Mission Beach with Eric dressed as a martian and Lou Damien in a toga…I think Eric got chased down the beach all the way to the Pacific Beach Pier by a crazed 15 year old fan that night…lucky he got away.
Let’s none of us forget that Eric would not be half as cool as he is without the amazing and insane Denise Reynolds Bacher. How many long nights on the wall at Presidio Park did we all spend together?
Kickin’ ol’ Poe around the graveyard in Mission Hills…boostin’ booze from his dad’s Liquor store (sorry Lou, but we always paid for ’em) the aforementioned roadtrip to SF on the Guzzi, and best of all the tatoos we got together and I guess we’ll take to the grave.
“..Good times….I’ll tell you….eatin’ wheat cheapies from a cracked plastic bowl!”
Gettin’ kicked out of midnight mass on Christmas Eve with Jerry Cornelius and Eric and then making our way to Denny’s for the holiday feast was another mind-bender…as our minds were quite (ahem) bent that night.
“No room in the inn!” cried my Jewish pal Eric as the goyim kicked us all out of the front row at St. Patrick’s on 30th Ave…into the rain. I’ll never forget the lavender suit the usher was wearing that night…never ever look too closely at the lavender suits amongst us. They will stay with you.
Eric just came up for a visit and hung out with my family for a few days. I guess he’s staying with me too.
Cool.
Patrick Works
Soul Brother Number 2.5
(I’m a little nonplussed that both Pat and I mentioned Christmas in two Bacher-related posts written simultaneously 3,000 miles apart. Then again, this thematic coincidence seems a fitting tribute to a beatific Jewish fella with magic hands!)
Thank you goyem (besides Matthew) for the kind words and memories. Things haven’t changed that much for me, Denise is still half the reason I’m who I am (Pat you’re at least 38% of the other half), and the sidewalk still looks comfortable to sleep on when I’m taking a walk. We still spin records and discover new (usually old) books, music and instruments, and talk about seeing old friends…
I must take a moment and thank David Klowden who convinced me to go out for the first time and see The Answers because they played Lucifer Sam. This ultimately led to seeing the Crawdaddies (Peter Meisner, guitar) which changed my life from that point forward.
WTF?…where’s Stax here? He writes better than most of us…
I like Pat pray to ‘the god of the many green sweaters’, Eric Bacher. We sipped from the same Old Overholt pint on many occasions. We were shed mates at Linda Works home for wayward boys. I recall one night in the shed we had to figure out who was more closer to Jesus Christ, Alice Cooper(my pick) or Ray Charles(Eric’s)We finally decided it would have to be whose initials came closest to Jesus’s , Ray Charles won by one intial.
Weird. I was just sitting around wondering what happened to my youth, and a couple of clicks of the mouse brought me here! Raisin Bran, Pat with his monk-hole hairdo, Jerry with his everything and Stax with that infamous Cheerios chest.
I have hundreds of photos of that incriminating time and hope that the kids don’t ever find them. Thank God for tall girls with big giant cameras. Good to see you’re all still around.
Hey Cindy,
Great to see you’re alive and well. I think you’ve truly opened the flood of memories with your fantastic photos!