It’s been a few weeks full of music. My tarot clients don’t all know that I used to run an alternative music magazine here in St. Louis called Night Times back in the 1990s. Music has always been my pulse and one of the most important things to me. Music is truly an expression of the spirit.
Two weekends ago, I attended the Wilco show, with the Local H/Soul Asylum/Urge show the next night, and decided I still hadn’t had enough of Local H so we drove the four hours to see a one hour show in Kansas City, and then went four hours back home (worth it!).
This past Thursday, I was invited to preview the Missouri History Museum’s grand opening of the St. Louis Sound exhibit. I was excited. Andrew Wanko, the public historian, had come to my home about a year and a half earlier, and I had personally given him every copy of Night Times from 1995-1998 (when we were in print; it carried online after that for about five or six years). We had a good conversation about the scene as I knew it then: the vital nightclubs, the most important bands. Andrew is very young and was not alive to know the scene at all, and it was pretty obvious he was going to have to lean on us elders to point the way. I even sent him a copy of my unpublished memoir, Night Times, which, with newborn twins on the way and a toddler at home, I am very sure he did not read a word of. Ha ha.
So… the exhibit. We gathered in the auditorium, masked and socially distanced, for the opening remarks. Andrew quoted some Bob Reuter lyrics about St. Louis being “the truest.” No one seemed to know the song Andrew referenced, but that’s cool… Reuter isn’t exactly a household word beyond the crew at KDHX where he was a DJ. I knew Bob casually and he was always friendly to me when I would see him around the City Museum, where I did PR for their circus, or at Duff’s when he occasionally dropped in for a poetry reading. I was horrified to learn of his death falling down an elevator shaft in 2013. I knew that Bob Reuter’s name was on the bill for St. Louis Sound, ranking him as big as Scott Joplin, Josephine Baker, and Nelly. That seemed pretty absurd. Reuter’s music was not really known beyond the KDHX staff and the small clubs he played with his band, Alley Ghost. Yes, he rocked it. But come on… he was not a musical gamechanger. He was a scenester and a multi-talented person, yes. He was not someone who made St. Louis music history, and I think if he were alive right now, he would probably agree.
I was pretty pleased with the Mississippi Nights exhibit, which had contributions from my good friends, Garrett Enloe (who is soon publishing a book on Mississippi Nights) and Andy Mayberry (former general manager), as well as owner Rich Frame. It was cool to see the old sign again, the banner, the original bar, Andy’s 1980s satin jacket, and the poster with so many touring bands that included my husband Tom’s band, Radio Iodine. We got a picture:
I mulled around the exhibit, checking out the cool old artifacts, such as Josephine Baker’s dress (so tiny!), Johnnie Johnson’s piano, and more. I enjoyed the interactive exhibits and especially the map of where all the music landmarks were. I was kind of shocked to see this huge standing wall devoted to a punk rock group of girls called The Welders that no one had ever heard of (they had one record). It was curious the kind of space and attention these very small acts were getting here, and I had yet to see anything on the 1990s, which was St. Louis’ second musical heyday after the sixties, with swarms of local acts getting signed to major labels. But I would keep looking…
I’m not going to kid you, I was also excited to see Night Times in there somewhere, even if it was just one cover, and so when I came to a wall called “Fanzines,” my heart collapsed a little bit into itself. There was only one fanzine on the display, JetLag, by KDHX’rs Steve Pick and John the Mailman.
Now, let me tell you, I have nothing against KDHX. I have been a regular financial contributor, I have guested on some of their shows and used to co-host with John the Mailman once a month on the JetLag Radio Hour, late Saturday nights at KDHX’s first location, an old converted bakery on Magnolia Street. I was even asked to interview in 1995 or so to be their station manager. But the thing I do know is that some (not all) of the gang at KDHX are a little too cool for school, and anything that is regarded as popular with the masses is not going to fly there. They like only the fringe and underground stuff. I like that stuff too, but I think there is room for everything.
Back in the 90s, Steve Pick and others had put me and Night Times down. We never had any words face to face. In fact, I don’t think I have actually even met him in person, but he let it be known online and elsewhere that we were too pop and mainstream for their indie-supremacist natures. Surely, I thought, there would be no more rivalry after nearly three decades. But there I was on Thursday in 2021, confronting the facts, this was a KDHX exhibit, with KDHX artists and personalities, and Steve Pick clearly had aligned it with his recently-published book of St. Louis’ music history, presented with a slant (which is fine for a book, but not for a museum), exaggerating the importance of some and annihilating the importance of others. I looked on Pick’s Facebook page and he admitted that yes, he had “a hand in a few exhibits,” and claimed his fanzine spoke for all the fanzines. Well, I sure as hell don’t think he’d think Night Times could substitute a switch for JetLag, or Noisy Paper, or Motion Sickness, or Spotlight, or PlaybackSTL, or Yellow Pills, or Silver Tray, or the Riverfront Times music section (which was the local music Bible), for that matter. The zine scene in St. Louis was as unique as its creators, and an important part of St. Louis modern music. JetLag, in true indie fashion, was made on a copier and had a reach of all of Pick’s best friends and favorite customers at Vintage Vinyl. Speaking for myself, Bob Baker at Spotlight, and Laura Hamlett of PlaybackSTL, we put out monthly professionally printed and distributed publications for years that cost us plenty of our own money in tight advertising months. Hamlett even second-mortgaged her home. Night Times had a reach of 20,000 a month, and Spotlight and PlaybackSTL had at least that many. We had big teams of writers, photographers, and designers. We had advertisers and subscribers. Yet, JetLag supposedly represents us. Sure it does… I gotta say, I’m pretty disgusted.
But it’s not about me, and it could be argued that this exhibit is not about music publications. I get that. Here’s where I get even more disgusted: The acts that we most remember from the 1990s… the acts whose audiences are alive to remember them… those bands got shafted big time in this exhibit. The Missouri History Museum would have thousands more attendees to this exhibit if they’d paid attention to the 1990s. We had SO MANY national recording acts that far surpassed the popularity of Reuter or the Welders! Where were The Eyes/Pale Divine? KINGOFTHEHILL? The Urge? Gravity Kills? Stir? Devon Allman? Sheryl Crow? Radio Iodine? Michael McDonald? Bob Kuban? Head East? Mama’s Pride? Pete and Jim Mayer? Anacrusis? Pavlov’s Dog?*
The History Museum missed so many opportunities in St. Louis Sound. Like on the display for the Guns ‘N Roses riot, where they could have mentioned that our great local axeman, Richard Fortus, went on to join them (he also played guitar for the Psychedelic Furs, Love Spit Love, Thin Lizzy, Nine Inch Nails, and so many others). They left out the punk and metal scene entirely, except for covering Ultraman (again, friends of KDHX). They never mentioned Kristeen Young, who continues to tour internationally with the biggest acts, or acts we remember fondly such as Robynn Ragland, and Jessica Butler and the Skalars.
We have smaller, fun musical contributions, too. Like Ellen Foley, who you’ll remember as the female powerhouse in Meatloaf’s 1977 hit, “Paradise by the Dashboard Lights.” A number of the bands I mentioned above got on MTV. They could have talked about the wild popularity of Pink Floyd tribute band, El Monstero, which sells out the largest amphitheaters. Then there were acts such as Big Fun, Fragile Porcelain Mice, Sinister Dane and The Sheiks who sold out Mississippi Nights regularly for years.
NONE of these huge artists were even mentioned. I left the exhibit sad and feeling slighted, but knowing that Night Times was not the only casualty here, not by a long shot. This was not a space problem: they could have easily used that giant wall for The Welders to cover the entire 90s with some posters, cassettes and CDs of the bands I’ve mentioned above. They could have put Night Times, Noisy Paper, Motion Sickness and Playback up next to JetLag in the same space. Reuter could have shared his space with some of the names I’ve mentioned above. They could have tucked The Welders in somewhere more space-appropriate with a quick mention. I don’t blame Andrew Wanko for not knowing, but I do wish he had checked some other sources beyond Steve Pick to give, to quote Bob Reuter in Andrew’s opening statement, “the truest” depiction of St. Louis music. It ain’t by a long shot.
*Some of these bands, like Radio Iodine, were listed with national and international acts on the Mississippi Nights poster but did not have any exhibits to say who they were or that they came from St. Louis.
12 Responses
As an afterthought, I’ll add here that when I saw that Urge show a couple weekends ago, St. Louis Music Park was nearly sold out and this was an Urge crowd–after nearly 30 years!
Also worth mentioning is that 105.7 KPNT should have been included in the exhibit. They were real star-makers in the 1990s, and launched the careers of Wilco, Gravity Kills, Radio Iodine, and others with their PointEssential CDs.
Julia,
Thank you for your well-written blog piece; I found it riveting. I have not seen the St. Louis Sound exhibit yet myself, but something tells me I would have shared your reaction. I really appreciate you mentioning NoisyPaper and PlaybackSTL, two local ‘zines that I had a substantial hand in launching and contributing to. And I certainly think that Carrie Lindsey, the founder of the former, killed in an untimely car accident a few years into the new millennium, was an important scenester who was trumpeting local music for a few years with as much passion as anyone else. There were other zines like Concert News way back when which covered local and national acts. And you’re absolutely correct about the “reach” of some of the publications you mentioned, which went international in many cases and can be found quoted in cyberspace quite often. Apart from that, I find it head scratching that certain artists were not mentioned in the exhibit, like Kristeen Young, a real trailblazer, and Robynn Ragland, creator of one of the best-produced albums to emerge from our town. It’s also great that you mentioned El Monstero, not simply the best Pink Floyd tribute band around, but representative of a branch of music, the TRIBUTE act, which St. Louis has certainly been noted for in the past couple of decades. I’m not suggesting that the museum exhibit should have made room to discuss that phenomenon necessarily, but El Monstero has an enormous following that now extends beyond St. Louis. What they do is VERY significant to many of us.
I will see the exhibit eventually, I’m sure, and I’ll think of your article when I do. You made a lot of crucial points, one of which was how the sheer diversity of the scene here was about far more than a radio station and a handful of critically preferred acts. Some kind of unique energy powered the music scene in St. Louis for a few key decades, and maybe it’s too much to think any one exhibit could reflect it all. But it’s something I think about a lot as a musician and writer myself, and I know you have plenty of experience from your own publication thinking about these matters. I read your piece during a sleepless night a couple of days after my own tribute band, Shakey Deal (we do a solid take on the music of Neil Young), played one of our most important shows yet at a festival an hour or so from St. Louis. I think a great deal about music, the town I come from, and the massive, often unpleasant ways that the entire industry has changed. I’m happy when St. Louis gets props for some of the cool things that have happened here musically. But I felt like your article was important, likely a necessary corrective to what is almost certainly a “limited” public view of the local music world. I’m interested to see what other reactions you might provoke…
You are a spiteful angry “never did nothing but follow others’ footsteps” goofball. Never saw your rag but I’m sure it blew chunks. Why? Because you can not write your way out of wet tissue paper. The Eyes were posers who couldn’t write songs. They deserve what they got: nothing. Just like you. Jealous much?
You most certainly do not know me, nor do I know you. I’ll just let your comment show who you are.
I have no idea who you are but I definitely remember the Welders. And without them and our generation, without Steve Pick, the 90s music scene in St. Louis would have been as bland as the arena rock we bucked against in the 80s.
I want to reiterate that there is room for everyone. I just believe we should have put The Welders and Bob Reuter in proper perspective.
Well…as the adage goes ‘half the story has never been told’. I have my own opinions, and reading your blog comments was a reminder of human subjectivity, and in this case the tunnel vision that can be created by proximity to certain bands & publications, as well as how one’s peer group(nearly always people of the same age) will mold memories and opinions. I too have not walked through the exhibit, and wish to see if musicians and bands I was far more impressed by than a suburban rock band that was around for a number of months 30 or more years ago. And—being an old associate of Mr. Reuter, I’m sure Bob would not have seen himself as the figurehead of anything. Bob was a St. Louis urban downbeat Renaissance Rebel (punk-ish band in the late 70s, THEN when punk became style and fashion, went alt-country before the term was coined), & I loved his radio show. Oh—speaking of Concert News: I was a stringer for them in the first half of the 1970s, and I recall the woman editor had a VERY obvious thing for Jim Croce. Still, she let me cover the likes of Hawkwind ,Lou Reed, & Bruce Springsteen’s first show in STL, for which I am grateful. Let me close by saying this, as far as music: IT’S ALL EAR CANDY, and there is a reason why restaurants hand out menus…
Thanks for your good comments, Tom. The only thing I would challenge is that those suburban rock bands from 30 years ago are still selling out amphitheaters today. They did make a mark and are worth telling the next generation about. In my opinion, anyway.
Hey Julia Gordon!
If you think Bob Reuter would agree with you on anything then you’re an idiot. 🤷🏾♂️
I’m going to approve your comment to show the world some of the immaturity and nastiness I deal with.
100% agree that the exhibit is weirdly skewed and comes off as a show and tell of one man’s very limited perspective on the music scene he was a part of, rather than an actual historic exhibit. It’s a shame, really.
Your post was well written, but tbh I really appreciate it just for the reminder of some of those amazing 90’s bands!
Thanks, Kate!
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