Gary Pig Gold finds BUDDY HOLLY at 80

Dateline: September 7, 2016

Yessir, that last tour was sure a sumbitch, wasn’t it? “Winter Dance Party” my lone starred ass! More like a near month hauling all across those snow-crusted heartlands in the back of a school bus, sleeping with our guitars and our bottles of Jack and our rolling crap games. And precious little else, believe you me! But I suppose if they’d paid us what they were supposed to, we may have started flying between gigs instead …and that might’ve been even worse.



Buddy and Phil

Sure was good to dump my brand new band and finally get back to New York City and my brand new wife, you bet. And even though the past (in the form of former bandmates and management) kept calling – too bad there weren’t any answering machines back in the Summer of 59! – I certainly had lots of songs to write, melodies to sing, work to do …and fun to have. My best bud Phil Everly immediately helped see to that: He always was promising the minute he dumped his brother, and me my Crickets, we’d just walk that block or two south from my new apartment through Washington Square Park and begin to seriously trawl the grand new sights and sounds of Greenwich Village.

So we did. For a year or two, in fact, we did little else! And of course it was there, in some greasy little basement off Macdougal that we first saw, and heard, and then made Bobby Zimmermanan important point to meet this scrawny kid from the Midwest name of Bob. He was a funny little feller that continually swore we’d somehow locked eyes when I played the Duluth Armory …though unlike yours very truly, he’d only wear his glasses OFF stage. Still, he could sing up a storm, and soon enough write up one too. Too bad management again – his this time, not mine – prevented me from taking him into the studio like we were busy planning. But nevertheless, he signed with Columbia rather than me and Phil’s own label, and made out pretty darn well for himself. You oughta read his “Chronicles” book, by the way. It’s a Good One.

Anyways, money doesn’t talk, it swears, as Mr. D. once said. So eventually Phil got back together with Don, I hired back a couple’a Crickets, and we all headed off on a joint tour of England. Opening up for us here and there were these four new guys who’d simply slapped Everly harmonies over Cricket guitars and the rest was soon… well, Beatlemania it was called once I’d gotten them safely over the pond and onto the Ed BeatleBuddySullivan Show.

They were good fellas though, and wisely recognized that British (??) Invasion had actually taken root back in Lubbock in 1958. “Listen To Me,” “Think It Over,” “Not Fade Away”… “THERE’S yer fookin’ Merseybeat, mate,” as the Chief Beatle kept telling me and everyone else who would hear. I had to agree. Though he never wore his nice big black specs on stage either, by the by. But my, what a lovely character that Johnny Rhythm was.

So yRayAndBuckep, those Beatles sang my very own “Words Of Love,” and I have to admit those powerful royalties kept Maria Elena and Charles Hardin II in gas and grits as all my own musical monies remained tangled extremely up in legal limbos. Still, I eventually made good on my dream to record an entire album of Ray Charles songs, and duetting with that afore-mentioned Zimmer Man on his Nashville Skyline brought in a few deep dollars to boot. But then, like so many, many of us, the Seventies and especially Eighties were tough, empty years full of too much energy but too few (creative) outlets. At least I made it out pretty alive. My man Elvis, to cite the most obvious, Buddy2016didn’t, did he?

So here I sit on my 80th, luckily not being called a Golden Oldie as much the Godfather of alt. Country – whatever the heck that means. But I can still headline any damn PBS musical fundraiser I choose to …especially when an original Cricket or two care to join me. And while Maria Elena may be long long gone, our boy Charlie is still ringing his Strat in a honky tonk right near you this very night no doubt. Better that than doing Vegas as “Son of Buddy” I guess.
Oh, and that Weezer song?  It really did suck, y’know…..



Gary appears here whenever he wants

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DBAWIS_ButtonGary Pig Gold may have grown up in Port Credit, run away to Hamilton to join his first rock ‘n’ roll group, hung out with Joe Strummer on his first-ever night in the UK, returned to T.O. to publish Canada’s first-ever rock ‘n’ roll (fan)zine, run away again gary pig gpld facong leftto Surf City to (almost) tour Australia with Jan & Dean, come home again to tour O Canada with that country’s first-ever (authorized!) Beach Boys tribute band …but STILL, he had to travel all the way back to the USSR to secure his first-ever recording contract

One Response to “Gary Pig Gold finds BUDDY HOLLY at 80”

  1. […] 6. However, the sixth song on the album Beatles 6, “Words Of Love,” was in fact composed by Buddy Holly, who died not only on the third of February, 1959, but stipulated in his last testament that all […]

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