In Memoriam: Tom Petty (1950-2017)
The death of roots rocker Tom Petty at the age of 66 got me to think a lot about a very particular idea around popular music this week. This idea is: as vital and of the moment pop songs can sound when you are young, they can take on even greater importance as a person ages. In our youth, pop songs can serve as the soundtrack that we partially build our identities around. They can seem like they are almost the stuff of life or death. As you age, those same songs can gain an even deeper resonance as they become the soundtrack to memory. They become permanently intwined with the experiences and events that shape us during formative times of our lives: which is often why the music we listen to in our youth tends to be what people return to throughout their lives.
Tom Petty‘s death got me thinking on these terms in that, though I’ve never been the biggest Tom Petty fan, or much of a roots rock guy to begin with, one of his songs, “Runnin’ Down a Dream” is intrinsically linked with memories of my time in college. It reminds me of parties attended in dingy homes and apartments, of being a little out of my head on a combination of who-knows-what and opening the door of an unknown room of a strange house to find my friend, John, wild-eyed behind the door, showering the occupents room with cheap beer. It reminds me of late night conversations about music or philosophy in kitchens I would never see again. It reminds me of bundling into a dilapidated Camry with friends and taking a last-minute road trip through the Southwest. Petty, with his notoriously easy-going nature and lyrical love of the open road, of acceleration, of freedom, probably would have wanted it this way.
Tom Petty was born in Gainesville, Florida in 1950. Petty had an uneasy upbringing, raised by an abusive and alcoholic father who terrorized Petty, his mother and his brother, Bruce (the latter two he remained close with throughout his life). His interest in rock music came when an uncle, who worked in the film industry, took a 10-year old Tom to the movie shoot for the Elvis Presley vehicle, Follow That Dream. On set, Petty met Elvis and instantly became an Elvis and rock fan. Indeed, Elvis would become a reoccurring theme through many of Petty‘s songs, as would another theme from his difficult childhood: escape. These twin themes would fuel much of Petty’s work in the coming decades.
Petty dropped out of high school when he was 17 to play bass in his first band, Mudcrutch. While Mudcrutch did not set the world alight, forcing Petty to support himself through a number of odd jobs, including as a groundkeeper and a gravedigger, his next project, Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers (founded following guitar lessons from future Eagle, Don Felder) would end up being Petty‘s meal ticket and escape route. The band, which included former Mudcrutch lead guitarist Mike Campbell and keyboardist Benmont Trench would soon become a fixture on the burgeoning FM radio. They would eventually go on to a slew of chart hits and multi-platinum selling albums.
Petty was also far more influential than his decidedly retro act would appear. The early 2000s garage revivalists, The Strokes, certainly copped the intro and chords changes from their best song. “Last Nite” from The Heartbreakers classic “American Girl”. Petty’s songs, even when they were new, had a way of sounding old and familiar, like a perfectly broken in pair of blue jeans. While his music reached backwards, in some ways it also reached forwards. Petty adopted synthesizers and other futuristic sounds early in his career. These may be why Petty managed to stand out from the pack of similarly minded roots rock revivalists that proliferated the airwaves in the late 70s and early 80s.
Outside of The Heartbreakers, Petty also became a member of the the classic-rock supergroup, Traveling Wilburys along with such other luminaries as Bob Dylan, George Harrison, Roy Orbison and Jeff Lynne.
Rest in peace, Tom!
