The first time I saw Joe Longa - aka Mighty Joe (a moniker
that is understood when you witness his music. I use the word "witness"
intentionally, because with Mighty Joe, total witnessing requires both eyes and
both ears).
The first
time I saw Mighty Joe, he was on his knees. Kicking ass. It was one of those
"Woah!" moments where you forget what you were just thinking about and stop in
your tracks, staring. He was up there as a Mental in Joey Harris' band just
havin' a ball, playing the livin' rip out of a Hammond B3 as the dudes rolled
through rocker after rocker. (I suggest you all see this band by the way... there
is something missing in today's music that remains in a band like Joey's. I
don't have the space to discuss this here. Just go and see them if you feel
what I'm talking about.)
Since that
time we've gotten to know each other more and more, usually hanging in an alley
near a backstage door when we're on the same billing. Somewhere along the line,
Mighty Joe and I figured out that we're both from upstate New York, so we're
always saying to each other, "Hey, remember that band Duke Jupiter?" and stuff
like that... We would both kill to go to a real East Coast clam bake, which the
West Coast is incapable of. Ironically, we live four blocks from each other in
the same neighborhood in Ocean Beach. Both of us being "OBecians," it made
sense to go get some fish tacos at the Southbeach, our favorite neighborhood
beach bar. He walked on over to my house, and from there we hoofed it to lunch.
"Man, I'm
starving," he said, offering a big smile as he crosses the street.
"Good to
see you, Joe." ( we shake.)
He hands me
a tape "from the old days" and we start talking.
"Man, I
brought you this tape...."
I was like:
"Wait! Wait. What? ... tape as in cassette tape?"
"Uhh, yeah,
uh... there's stuff on here from '64, man...."
And Joe
started to tell me stories, beginning there - gigs, tours, the folks he's
played with. Before ya know it, we were settled in with tacos, beer, fish and chips,
and a pile of jalapeño shrimp poppers.
CS: I don't know where
you began your music? Did you go to school or something?
MJ: I grew up in Endicott, New York. Both my grandfathers
played harmonica. One was Polish and the other was Czech. My Czech pop gave me
a chromatic harp when I was a kid and showed me a couple of weird folk songs. I
played drums in a marching fife and drum corps early on. I did trumpet from
third to sixth grade in school. My mom always had a radio or a record playing
and was always singing. They got me a VOX Continental organ in seventh grade
from my cousin, Dave. He had a great band called Basket of Flowers that
actually recorded a single around '66 and played all around the tri-state area.
One day his bass player missed practice so he showed me the bass parts to
"Louie Louie" and "Farmer John" and I got to play with his group.
I was
hooked! I never took any lessons, but when I heard Jimmy Smith and Otis Spann
records in high school it was all over. I learned by listening.
Ronnie Dio
(Corning, NY) and his group the Elves used to play at our junior high dances. I
also knew Mark DeCerbo (Four Eyes) from the boy's choir at school. I also did a
few gigs with Gary Wilson. In college I was a DJ on the radio and played in a
country western band.
CS: How'd you get to
San Diego?
MJ: In '75, me and my buddies moved to San Diego. DeCerbo
had already migrated here. We started a band called Copenhagen and played
Webb's (now Winston's) and the Elbow Room (now 7-10 Club) along with every dive
bar, military base, and keg party possible. I also met Tomcat [Courtney] that
year. In '77 we recorded a 45 and then I went on tour with Doug Kershaw and the
Ragin' Cajun Fiddle Player all over the U.S. and Canada. I also recorded a 45
with Gary Wilson and the Blind Dates in '78 at Accusound Studio, with John
Hildebrand as engineer. In '78, with Bottino and Haney, we would also back
Tomcat. I played several punk shows with Gary and the Blind Dates where
everyone hated us. We went to NYC in '79 and headlined at CBGB's for two nights
of insanity.
CS: Oh, man!
MJ: Then the band called it.
In 1980 I
did a stint with King Biscuit Blues Band, the Branded band featuring Vic Gross.
I was also playing with Tomcat every Thursday at the Texas Teehouse in OB. The
Blind Dates morphed into the Swinging Dates, a trio that played all summer at
the Surfer Hotel in Pacific Beach right on the boardwalk. By '82 we were called
the Untouchables.
In '85
Buddy Blue called me and told me he was starting a blue-eyed soul group and needed
an organ player. That started the Jacks with Chris Sullivan on bass
(Penetrators and Farmers) Jack Pinney on drums (Iron Butterfly, Jerry Raney and
the Shames).
In '87 we
recorded Jacks Are Wild on Rounder records. I also recorded with Mojo Nixon that
year. In '89 I recorded with Skid Roper and played at Mojo Nixon's wedding with
Country Dick as the preacher in the middle of a go-kart track in Chula Vista.
CS: ...So with all this
giggage, was there ever a time where some chick came in dressed as an alien,
danced on the tables, and knocked your beer into your amp?
MJ: Oh God, is she still around? Yeah, weird stuff happens
at gigs. I was in the Copenhagen band, and we were playing a wedding reception
at the Bahia. During the reception the bride's ex-boyfriend showed up drunk
with a big wet spot on the front of his pants. He went up to the groom and
started yelling profanities. From there, the bride's father jumps him, tackles
him onto the floor, started rolling around, and then some of the wedding party
joined the rumble. One girl's gown was completely ripped off. They managed to
knock over the wedding cake and roll onto it. They also knocked over one of the
buffet tables with all the food on it. Hotel security intervened, called the
cops, and we left as soon as we could. Everybody really liked the band.
CS: Love it. What gear
do you play?
MJ: Organ and piano. Korg Digital Grand Piano through a
Centaur amp. I have two 145 Leslie speakers, a Wurlitzer electric piano, three
accordions, one stereo. Penncrest combo organ. Maxi Korg Synth, cajun chord
organ, and lots of other weird stuff....
CS: You said you
really didn't take lessons. How does the music come to you? Where do you begin?
MJ: The music is always there. You have to keep out of its
way and let it emerge. The more you think while playing, the less real music
you will get. You have to clear your mind and suspend your ego - and allow the
energy to encompass you.
CS: Wow.
MJ: Say you come to a raging river. You can try to go
straight across, fighting the current, or dive in racing down stream with the
current, easily reaching the other side. Just get out before you go over the
waterfalls. And practice at least two hours every day.
CS: Ah, there it is:
it begins with a killer work ethic. You've seen the world of music undergo a
formidable revision in how things get done. You're still in the game. What do
you think about the changes you've seen along the way, and how you survive the
grueling side of music biz.
MJ: I still like vinyl versus digital sound. Don't lose it,
man.
CS: Whaddya have to
say about the San Diego music scene?
MJ: I really like the weather here.
CS: [laughs] Okay,
let's try this one: most rewarding moment in music?
MJ: It was 1988. I was playing with Buddy Blue and the
Jacks. It was the end of July and we had a SOLD OUT show at Rio's.
CS: Ah, Rio's. Buddy
booked my band there once. He was impressed that I got 23 people in the door on
a Tuesday, around midnight. I asked him, "Really?"
MJ: We didn't go on 'til midnight so I was home until about
11pm. My beautiful wife Jeanne was pregnant at the time. Just as I got up to go
to the gig, we thought she was going into labor. I called the doctor and he
said, "Don't sweat it." But I totally freaked out and Jeanne told me to just go
do the gig like I always did. Reluctantly, I drove to the club. The place was
rockin' to the roof, totally sold out. I made my way to the dressing
room/kitchen and saw Buddy. He said, "Hey man, you look trashed! What the hell
is wrong with you? You look like you've seen a ghost." I explained to him the
situation and he immediately produced a bottle of Jack Daniels. We each took a
couple big slugs and he ordered me to leave the bar and go back home. As I was
leaving, he announced over the PA, "I have some good news and bad news. The bad
news is we're not going to play tonight; the good news is Mighty Joe's wife is
having a baby. And all drinks are half price for the rest of the night." The
crowd went wild. I rushed home and to the hospital. Our daughter, Lita, was born.
She now
shreds on lead guitar, watch for her in the future.
CS: Why do you play?
MJ: To maintain my sanity and spread good feelings and fun
to everyone.
CS: What do you listen
to?
MJ: KSDS 88.3 FM, especially blues with T. Tomcat Courtney,
Pharoah Sanders, Captain Beefheart, and Bonnie Raitt.
CS: What inspires you?
MJ: Honest people. And a good performance of any kind of
music.
CS: I heard that Ted
Nugent hunts big game in his off-time; and Michael Jackson rides the ferris
wheel in his back yard with five-year-old boys. What do you like to do when you
when you're not playing music?
MJ: Eat, sleep, drink.... BBQ, and BBQ.
CS What's in the
future music of Mighty Joe?
MJ: If you can prop me up, I'll play. I have four questions:
where, when, how long, and how much?