When you think of New Jersey, certain iconic images are evoked: the Shore and boardwalk, The Sopranos, Atlantic City and a vintage style of horn-fueled rock-n-soul music. John Lyon, a Neptune, New Jersey, native, has been playing and exporting this music around the world for almost 50 years now.
Better known as Southside Johnny for his early love of Chicago blues, Lyon and his band, the Asbury Jukes, recorded their classic debut, I Don’t Want to Go Home, in 1976. This influential record shaped the sonic print for all that was to come, melding Steven Van Zandt’s, the Jukes’ guitarist, major role as producer/songwriter, Bruce Springsteen’s key songwriting and liner note contributions and ‘60s singers Ronnie Spector and Lee Dorsey on guest vocals. All this juiced up the Jukes’ trademark sound of tough, raucous R&B-injected rock with the feistiest three-man horn section this side of Memphis.
Lyon spoke by phone with CityBeat from his home on the New Jersey shore about his roots as a performer. “I love listening to music and grew up doing that. But in becoming a great performer, you grow up listening to people like Ray Charles, and you realize that you’re a part of that whole world now. It’s still a thrill to me, and I can’t believe I’ve gotten away with it for so long.”
He explains, “There’s a lot of confidence that comes from people wanting to hear your music. And when they come see you, they know what they’re going to get — which gives you the confidence to be funny or change things in the set every night, but it takes time to develop that. I had a great role model in Bruce Springsteen. He was always changing things, doing different things. I mean, I saw Iggy and the Stooges when they came to Asbury Park, and thought, ‘That’s freedom,’ to do whatever you want onstage. You just learn from the people you watch that it doesn’t have to be the same. There should be some mystery to it, some excitement — you can’t just go through the motions.”
Inspired by this kind of megawatt charisma on the Shore’s club scene at places like the legendary Stone Pony in Asbury Park, Southside evolved into a rousing, magnetic frontman with a gritty blues wail and stage presence to burn. He and the Jukes would play three or four sets a night at local clubs, sometimes with members of the E Street Band sitting in live and on record. With the competitive allure of NYC and its budding Lower East Side punk scene just over an hour away, some Jersey bands stood on the edge between record deals and oblivion.
But the Jukes’ horn section didn’t exactly make the record labels rush in. Because of their connection to late ‘50s doo-wop and early ‘60s rock and roll — the retro Sha Na Na factor — horns were considered then as nostalgic, dated instruments, despite the success of Stax Records and its Memphis Horns lineup.
“I mean, people would wonder, ‘What are they doing?’ as we added horns,” Lyon says. “A lot of record companies didn’t want to hear anything about horns — if you weren’t Chicago or Blood, Sweat & Tears, they didn’t want to hear it. I remember attending one of the first consultants for radio, way back in ’77, giving a lecture, and he said, ‘Horn bands are dead’. I went, ‘Wow, thanks a lot, I’m just putting out my second album, and now I’m dead.’ That’s the kind of thing you ran into with radio stations back then — they relied on consultants, and this guy was a big Gentle Giant fan (prog rock). So that was a natural thing for him to think, but for me, it was why don’t you just punch me in the mouth?’”
Decades passed and thousands of gigs and dozens of records forged the Jukes into a tight, big band collaboration, even though many members have come and gone. Lyon’s contagious energy still bounces off the stage; he’s a hyperactive showman, all smiles, sweat and swagger. In gauging his exuberance, it looks like he would rather be onstage than anywhere else.
Cleveland International Records recently released Live in Cleveland ’77, a live record and oft-booted classic, documenting Southside and the Jukes' live prowess early on at the Agora Club. It’s an exultant showcase of prime originals mixed with soul and blues covers, their standard set, and Spector steps in for a special guest appearance. They encore with Sam Cooke’s “Having a Party,” a familiar closer, and it sounds like the crowd stampedes the stage just to join the party.
Southside has also released solo records without the Jukes, including two recent riveting covers collections: Grapefruit Moon: The Songs of Tom Waits with LaBamba Big Band, and Detour Ahead: The Music of Billie Holiday. It’s a treat to hear Lyon trade vocals with Waits on songs like “Walk Away,” their gruff soul voices swinging low over the jazzy orchestration. His interpretive skills also shine on the Holiday set, and Lyon’s throaty bellow and bluesy harmonica playing imbue Lady Day's songs with masculine perspective.
Lyon speaks of the Jukes’ long-term connection with Ohio, always one of their favorite tour stops: “Kid Leo, the Cleveland DJ, was playing the demo and the first record early on, and it got played in Akron, Columbus, so we had great Ohio audiences all over. We always came back, especially when they asked us to play the BBQ contests — we liked that a lot. Jeff Kazee, the Jukes’ keyboardist, is from Lima, Ohio, and he's a crazy Reds fan. Just what I need: an expert on Ohio!”
Next year will be Southside Johnny and the Jukes’ 50th year as a band. But Lyon would rather not consider its significance as he aptly sums up his credo. “I don't want to think about it,” Lyon says. “I do what I do for me. I do it because I have a certain loyalty to the band and the audience — and I love getting on stage. I don't think about legacy. I don't think about the past, I try to avoid the future and I certainly don't want to live in the moment, so I'm kind of stuck.”
This story is featured in CityBeat's Oct. 2 print edition.
