The Record Store Years 28) Early Adventures: Road Trip to Rockpile

A memoir of 25 years (1975-2000) spent working in the world of records & music in Seattle, with occasional side trips into writings on Led Zeppelin and other adventures from my musical life.

Of the many, many great live performances I’ve experienced in my life, very, very few even come close to seeing Rockpile at the Earth Tavern in Portland, Oregon in December of 1978.

Much like Cheap Trick in the same era, Dave Edmunds, Nick Lowe and Rockpile were an all-consuming passion for the staff of Cellophane Square. Everyone was very excited when it was announced that they would be coming to Seattle opening for Van Morrison at the 2900-seat Paramount Theatre – the site of many a memorable show before and since.

Unfortunately, the experience ended up being a letdown. Despite the band’s best efforts, it was a classic ‘opening act’ situation – poor sound, a short set and a totally indifferent audience of Van Morrison fans impatient to see their Man. The Cellophane crew and a scattering of other fans cheered as loud as we could for Edmunds, Lowe, Bremner and Williams, and they certainly played well – this was, after all, pretty much the greatest rock band in the world at the time – but it just wasn’t the magical rock & roll experience we were hoping for.

The next morning at the store we were discussing our disappointment when suddenly a magical thing happened. Dick got off a phone call and announced, “Rockpile are playing a place called the Earth Tavern in Portland tonight – headlining!” Immediately he was back on the phone calling the club to confirm, arranging to rent a car, and generally taking the bull by the horns to make a road trip to Rockpile a reality.

We were all on a tight budget and the rental car Dick came up with was from an outfit called “Rent-A-Wreck” (that’s not a joke!). It was a beat-up 2-door Chevy Impala or something similar, and the driver’s side door didn’t work so everyone including the driver had to get in via the passenger side. There were five of us – Dick, Susan, me, Lesley and my friend Jeff (who worked at Tower then) – and we had to wait until everybody got off work so the 3-hour trip didn’t commence until at least 6:00 p.m.

When we arrived at the Earth Tavern we were delighted to find that it was a small hole-in-the-wall dive bar, with a tiny music space located at the back and very few other people in attendance. We paid a few bucks to get in and found ourselves standing against monitors that were sitting on a stage that couldn’t have been more than 18 inches high off the open dance floor. And sure enough, there was Rockpile’s gear all set up and ready to go!

If there was an opening band I have absolutely no recollection of it. The little room did fill up with more people, including some other folks we knew from Seattle who had made the trip down, including Jeff’s friends Sally (Tower Records employee) and Steve (bass player with Seattle band The Moberlys). When Rockpile hit the stage it became clear that this was what we had hoped for the previous night – and it couldn’t have been more different. The sound was great and the band was loose and enjoying themselves, obviously in their element. It would be reductive to refer to Rockpile as a ‘bar band,’ but that was certainly where their roots were and all it took was a tiny, packed room with a low stage and the drinks flowing for them to catch fire.

No amount of hyperbole or specific detail can really describe what we experienced that night. It may have been the greatest rock show I’ve ever seen, standing 2 feet away from Nick Lowe and Dave Edmunds, just completely losing myself in the music.

After the show our little group and the other Seattle fans went around to the side door of the tavern to see if we could catch a word with the band. Suddenly a half-drunk Billy Bremner bursts out of the door saying, “I’ve gotta take a piss!” and heads between two nearby parked cars to do exactly that. An English roadie followed to keep an eye on things, and we immediately engaged him in conversation, telling him that we’d seen the show in Seattle last night.

“Hey Billy!” he says, “these punters drove all the way from Seattle to see you play tonight!” Billy zips up and says, “Is that right? Well come on back and have a drink with us then!” The roadie rolls his eyes but holds the door open as the entire bunch of us – probably 7 or 8 people – follow Billy back into the club, this time into a ‘backstage’ area about the size of a closet.

Nick, Dave and Terry were all there in various states of inebriation, and what followed was about two hours of hanging out, drinking the band’s beers, and chewing the fat with our heroes. I had a long conversation with Dave Edmunds about guitars, discussing the advantages of Gibson over Fender, as I recall.

Nick Lowe was more than halfway through his own personal gallon of cheap white wine, and at one point strategically spilled a little on Lesley in an effort to get her attention, and proceeded to make a charmingly drunken pass. Lesley said, “I don’t know what to say to you!” and Nick replied, “Don’t worry I’ll do all the talking!” And indeed he did, describing his touring days with Brinsley Schwarz and passing along some advice he got from Paul McCartney along the way - “always wait until the last second to go up to the microphone for your vocals, as if you might have forgotten.”

We all got autographs, asking the band to sign any random paper item we could find in the club’s back room. Edmunds signed a piece of notepad paper with a taxi service advertised on it – unfortunately over the years the ink has faded on that one – but Nick Lowe did me proud by taking a clean paper plate and approximating a record album with it by writing in black sharpie, “Best riffs only to Hugh, CBS Records, Nick Lowe.” Billy Bremner also signed the paper plate. It's gotten torn & frayed after years of display and flat storage, but I still have it. Everyone in the band and their crew was friendly, easy going and happy to spend time with fans – not a shred of rock star attitude to be found.

Finally the roadie announced that they had to get back to their hotel before the long drive to San Francisco the next day, and we had to face our own long drive back to Seattle. By this time it’s about 2:00 a.m. and as we climbed back into the rent-a-wreck it became clear that we did not have enough gas to get us all the way home. In 1978 there were no all-night gas stations, at least not on Interstate 5 between Portland and Seattle, so we got about an hour north and were forced to pull into the parking lot of a station off the freeway and wait until it opened in the morning.

It was December and fucking freezing, but we huddled together and did our best to doze until the station opened at about 8:00 a.m. Susan and I were scheduled for the opening shift at the record store and I knew that opening late was just something one never did – we made it just in time, going straight to the store off the road and arriving about 15 minutes before the 10:00 a.m. opening time. I don’t remember much else about that day except still feeling high off the show, then going home at the end of my shift and sleeping for about 12 hours.

I saw Rockpile 5 more times before their sad breakup in 1981 and they were always great, but nothing could compare with that Earth Tavern gig – a magnificent adventure that still puts a smile on my face every time I think about it.

Next: Early Adventures: Record Conventions

Below: 632 NW 21^st, the site of the Earth Tavern in Portland as it appears in the 2020s; Dave’s sig (faded), and Billy’s. Pretty sure that’s Terry’s below Dave, also faded.

Below: Rockpile’s run, 1977-1980. With the exception of “Pure Pop”, where they’re only featured on a few of the songs, everything on the the rest of these LPs is performed by Edmunds, Lowe, Bremner & Williams as a band. It just doesn’t get any better.