JD. Souther: One of the Greatest of the Greatest Generation

Singer-Songwriter JD. Souther died on Tuesday September 17th, 2024. The press reports named no cause of death but I heard that he had recently tripped on a marble stoop at his new home in New Mexico, fallen and broken a rib, and punctured a lung. He was only 78 years old but that’s enough to do even a younger man in.

I write “J.D.”,  which is short for “John David,” but a one-time manager and friend of his claimed that he preferred “JD.” with just the one period. I always felt like it was too personal to call him “JD.” so I opted for “John David.” He always responded as if that was what he expected from me. Incidentally, those who didn’t know him usually called him JD. “Suther” but he himself said his name was JD. “South-er.” So that’s how I always say his name.

I didn’t know JD. well. I only knew him because I was friends with another supremely talented singer-songwriter by the name of Tom Kell.

It was 1983 or ‘84 and Tom Kell was my SoCal colleague. No, we weren’t writing together. We were working together at the 7-11 in Manhattan Beach, on Aviation and Prospect. Tom and his then-wife Rosemary lived in the apartments across the street, on Aviation. I had a basement apartment with my then-wife Layne and daughter a few blocks away on Prospect. Obviously neither of us had had JD. Souther success.

Tom and I were both songwriters but really knew nothing about each other musically (at the time). He had not come out to my live gig and I had not had the opportunity to hear his demos.

But JD. Souther somehow did hear his demos and called Tom. Yes, freaking JD. Souther called Tom and said, “hey, this shit is good…let’s get together.”

Unlike me (a piano pounder), Tom was an acoustic guitarist, true “SoCal sound” songwriter with a terrific voice, not unlike JD.’s. Both Tom and JD. had a magnificent vocal range and could move from their natural head voice to their falsetto voice like the two were just the same. In fact, for them, they were just the same. No mention of a ‘falsetto” ever came up with those two. They were just both blessed with incredible, angelic voices.

So I guess JD. recognized himself in Tom and hit him up and they started hanging out. I don’t know if they ever wrote a song together but Tom probably couldn’t have cared less. As with me, JD. Souther was his songwriting idol and I’m sure it was enough just to be in his world.

And JD.’s world was rocking in 1984 from all his successes with the Eagles and his solo career. JD. had few hits as a solo artist but two are absolute ear worms: “You’re Only Lonely,” which I think stayed at #1 on the Adult Contemporary chart for weeks, and a bigger hit which he wrote and sang with James Taylor, the hauntingly beautiful “Her Town Too.” Of course he had also written “Best of My Love” and a slew of other Eagles hits, not to mention Linda Ronstadt gems like “Faithless Love”. He was in “tall cotton,” as they say in the south.

“People got used to seeing them both together…”

“But now she’s gone and life goes on…nothing lasts forever.”

JD. wrote and sang that second line of the bridge in “Her Town Too” and if you know the song at all, I know you can hear his voice singing that line. That is classic JD. Souther.

In the fall of 1984, my wife was pregnant with our second girl, Nicolette. I had a regular gig at Dano’s Cafe on Manhattan Beach Blvd., worked at 7-11, and drove a furniture delivery truck around LA. And we still could barely make rent.

So we moved back to New Hampshire where I grew up and I temporarily went to work for my dad. There were virtually no gigs there and anyway, I was starting to lose my singing voice, I don’t know why, but that pretty much shut the door for me in the music world as a performer.

Across the street from my dad’s office, in this tiny little town, was a main street movie hall, built probably in the 1920s or 30s. It was beautiful inside as its name, “The Majestic,” would suggest. It had that classic early 20th-century soft burgundy seats and drapes chic. I loved it and immediately thought of putting on a show there.

I brought in a few acts from Boston and New York, had a comedy night, and featured a few of New England’s favorite singer-songwriters like Livingston Taylor (yes, James’ brother), Long Island’s Aztec Two-Step and our own Devonsquare.

Somewhere around this time I got a call from Tom Kell and I told him about the shows I was doing. He was still hanging with JD. Souther (and Warren Zevon!) and suggested maybe JD. would be interested in doing a show at the Majestic.

OMG, I thought. This is gonna be great!

I think it was Memorial Day Weekend, 1985, when Tom and JD. flew from LAX to Boston. I picked them up in my steel blue Jeep Cherokee (standard edition, manual tranny, no AC!) at Logan International.

We of course didn’t have cell phones in those days. But at airports we could go all the way to the gate of an incoming flight to meet our friend-travelers. They didn’t have to call you when they arrived…you were there!

And I was there when Tom and JD. arrived. JD. was nearly the first person off the plane. JD. always traveled first class. He said if you ever accepted anything but fIrst class for a gig you’d never see first class again. I paraphrase but, indeed, he always flew first class.

My buddy Tom however was nowhere to be seen, stuck as he was in the cattle car, “coach.”

I had never met JD. but there was no mistaking him. He wore that classic faded and well-worn blue jean jacket and sported his trademark reddish-blonde close-cropped beard. Not thick and full like when he was younger but shorter now, more groomed. JD. was a good-looking guy. “Striking” I think most would say, especially his eyes.

“John David,” I said as I greeted him near the deplaning area. He shook my hand and smiled.

“I guess Tom’s stuck in coach,” I said.

JD. nodded.

Once Tom deplaned we went to baggage claim and picked up their bags and gear. I think they both checked their guitars. JD. had come off the plane with a metal briefcase that looked like solid silver to me, which I’m sure it wasn’t, however expensive it might have been.

It was a long drive, nearly two hours, north to New Hampshire where they were going to perform the next night.

It was late but nobody slept. I was full of nervous excitement. Tom sat in front with me and JD. sat in the back but oddly, now that I think of it, not on the left or right side of the seat but right in the middle.

So it was easy for me to communicate with JD. I asked him a bunch of questions about growing up in Texas and what year did he move to LA and small talk like that. It wasn’t long before he had had enough and said, “I don’t wanna talk about this shit.” Not in a mean way…just matter-of-factly. And that ended the chit chat.

My dad owned or rented a small condominium a few miles from the venue. He had rented it once or twice to traveling musicians so I asked to use it and took them there for the night.

The next morning Tom called me and said, “Hey man, JD.s not cool with the living set-up. “I caught his drift and booked the only posh inn in town, and moved them over there immediately.

The New England Inn was right on Main Street in this picturesque little tourist town and their suite overlooked the street. It was pretty sweet digs, I must say, and Tom told me later, “way to go…he loves it.”

I don’t remember much about the show except that it was magical and everyone raved about it. Tom opened for JD. and I think they sang one song together before JD. played his stellar set of hits. He was funny, charming, and of course his voice was out of this world.

After the show I gave JD. $1200 in cash and a check for $300.  Yes, he played for $1500. I think Tom played for free because well, he just wanted to open for JD. Souther.

I had also managed to book JD. and Tom for one show in Boston. That gig was on the following Tuesday, as I recall, so there was some time to kill.

JD. asked me to take him to the airport in Portland; he was flying to New York for a couple of days. I asked him why he was going to New York and he said, “to fuck a little red head.” I didn’t ask any more questions. What a rock star.

Tom went to New York too and they both flew back the day of the Boston show. JD. did a radio interview with WBCN from the airport. We ate and drank and hung out at the hotel until show time. I still remember JD., wearing that same blue jean jacket, sitting on the floor of my hotel room, back against the wall. We were chatting and smoking weed. It was cool.

I remember little from the Boston performance. I was tired by then and it wasn’t my show so I was just part of the small entourage: JD., Tom, me and my wife Layne who JD. seemed to take to and who was happy to entertain him while I handled the business.

The only memorabilia I have from that time with JD is a couple of press clippings and a signed black and white headshot of him.

“You’re the best, Jack and Layne,” he wrote.

Unfortunately he signed it with an ink pen and ink disappears over time. I don’t know if sharpies existed then but we didn’t have one. And we took no pictures. Again, we had no cell phones, much less a multi-mega-pixel camera in hand at all times. I still have the autographed photo but I’d have to get FBI forensics involved to prove now that he actually signed it. Like life, it just faded away.

I saw John David several more times on shows I produced or promoted. I remember at one show in Colorado, huddling with the producer, JD and some of the other talent. I said something to JD and the producer interjected, “this is my partner, Jack.”

“I know Jack,” said JD. and glanced my way. Something deep inside of me felt a twinge of pride, or satisfaction, or just happiness. 

Years later I had moved to Nashville and while at the time I didn’t know it, JD. had too. I saw he was doing a show at Nashville’s iconic Bluebird Cafe and so of course I went.

I saw him standing just off the bar before the show started and said, “Hey, John David, how ya doing?”

He was friendly and said he had moved to Music CIty and bought a farm in Franklin.

“What do you hear from our buddy Tom?” I asked.

“Not much,” he said, “last I heard he was doing some acting.”

JD. went onstage shortly thereafter and I had no chance of chatting with him again. As always, his performance was just ethereal.

I didn’t know that JD. had moved to New Mexico until I heard of his passing.

At a certain stage in life it seems like all of our friends are going to that great gig in the sky. In fact, my dear friend Tom Kell died of cancer just a few years ago.

JD.’s Longbranch-Pennywhistle partner (and Eagle founder) Glenn Frey bit the dust way too early. So many others of the greatest singer-songwriter class of all time have likewise said their last farewell: Dan Fogelberg, Jimmy Buffet, Warren Zevon, Jim Croce, David Crosby, Gordon Lightfoot, John Lennon, George Harrison, Lowell George, Tim Hardin, Graham Parsons, Joe Cocker, Bill Withers, Marvin Gaye, John Prine, Leonard Cohen, John Denver, Harry Nillsson, Harry Chapin, Judee Sill, Leon Russell, Steve Goodman, Nicolette Larson, and so many more.

Linda Ronstadt, JD.s early love and collaborator has been fighting Parkinson’s disease for years and reportedly has now lost her ability to speak, much less sing. There is no greater female singer and song interpreter of any generation than Linda Ronstadt. She is now 78, the same age as JD at his death.

I lost my mother earlier this year. I found out recently that Souther and my mom shared a birthday, November 2nd, though my mom was just over twenty years his senior. Of course, I will think always of my mom on her birthday, and so too of John David Souther.

PS. I met JD. right after the release of his 1984 Warner Bros. album Home By Dawn. The LP got little to no attention at the time. But if you want to hear quintessential J.D. Souther, check out “I’ll Take Care of You” from that record.