A Sense of Doubt blog post #3725 - Last Chance Texaco - The Memoir of Rickie Lee Jones - a review

A Sense of Doubt blog post #3725 - Last Chance Texaco - The Memoir of Rickie Lee Jones - a review

Let me begin this review by confessing that I am a HUGE Rickie Lee Jones fan.

A little background on that fandom: Sure, I had heard "Chuck E's in Love" when it came out and on SNL, surely. Difficult to miss it. The song was very popular. Also, I was a pretty regular viewer of Saturday Night Live when Rickie played it on April 7, 1979. It was good, but I was just starting to grow musically, and it wasn't my style. I was still in high school. My music tastes exploded in 1980-1981 as I became a DJ at the college radio station and that gig coupled with meeting so many new people, I discovered tons of new music. Her second album Pirates came out in 1981, but I didn't find it until 1982 or even 1983 in the used bin at Flipside Records in Kalamazoo. I can still see it sitting there in the bin, and I snatched it. I knew who she was and had played "Chuck E's in Love" on my show some.

I fell deeply in love with her and this album, such that in 1984, the day The Magazine (her third album) came out, my friend Evar (John) Strid was having an off-campus party (he lived in a cool apartment), and he had just bought the album. I asked if I could play it, sat down with the lyrics, told every one to leave me alone, and focused all of my attention on it. I bought the album soon after. 

Though Pirates is a great album, and possibly her masterpiece, The Magazine is my favorite, and not just because I inhaled it with mono-focus in that apartment long ago on my friend's stereo in the vintage apartment with all the cool woodwork at 214 Allen Blvd if my memory serves me.

Could have been 218 (the one on the left) or even the far one (210?); however, I think it's the middle one that's 214 Allen. I remember the pillars, but then I knew other people who lived there.

We had to wait FIVE years for the next album, Flying Cowboys, produced by Walter Becker of Steely Dan, which was fabulous, also.

My friend Julie and I almost snuck in to Miller Auditorium in Kalamazoo when Rickie played it in 1984.

I would not see her until 1993 or 1994 when I went to Chicago to catch her show.

I would not get to see her again, though I have kept on her career and own all of her albums.

I did mention being a huge fan, yes?

Needless to say, when I saw that she had written a memoir, I snapped it up, eager to read it, or rather listen to the audio.

Around the same time, I bought Robbie Robertson's memoir Testimony, and so early this year, I decided to pour through that one when I learned that the Band was called the Band because they were the band supporting Bob Dylan. Yes, I did not know that. Please don't shoot me.

I adored Robbie's memoir. It's like we know them after listening to 18+ hours of their life story. Robbie's book came out before his death in 2023 from prostate cancer, which upset me so much. No one should die of prostate cancer.

Narrated by MacLeod Andrews, Robbie's memoir tracked his career that started long before he was 18 and spanned decades, though it did not contain much content past The Last Waltz concert and film as the publication of the book marked its 40th anniversary.

Still the book told the story that fans would want from it, the story of his musical development, his encounters with famous people (he was close with Edie Sedgwick; he lived at the famous Chelsea Hotel in New York), and, of course, the support of Bob Dylan on albums and tours and the rise of The Band and its signature tunes, like "The Weight," "Up On Cripple Creek," and "The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down."

As a fan of his solo stuff, especially Contact from the Underworld of Redboy (1998), I wanted more of that era but the book didn't really explore it. Still, I really enjoyed it, and so I moved right on to Rickie Lee Jones' memoir Last Chance Texaco: Chronicles of an American Troubadour.

I had listened to Tracey Thorn's first book/memoir -- Bedsit Disco Queen -- last year and have the next three books queued up. Narrated by Thorn, I adored the story of her musical development and finally learned what medical crisis had befallen her EBTG (Everything But the Girl) partner and husband Ben Watts. But I loved that she narrated it, and she did a great job.

Likewise, even earlier this year, in a memoir binge, I listened to Sinéad O'Connor's memoir Rememberings, also narrated by her (RIP Sinéad O'Connor), and ADORED it. I have planned a few posts about the book, but I did write one so far:

Friday, February 7, 2025

A Sense of Doubt blog post #3643 - Blogging is My Prayer and Sinéad O'Connor

Needless to say, my expectations for Rickie's book were high when I noticed that she narrated it.

Sadly, my expectations were dashed, which is why I make such a point of emphasizing what a huge fan of hers I am.

The narration had a listless quality. Her sentences trailed off. The rhythms of speech needed to hold my attention were flattened and dull. When she sings, she's amazing. When she's reading her text, she could have been better.

And then the content. I wanted the full musical career. I wanted to finally understand her relationship with Tom Waits. I wanted to know more about her drug habits and how she kicked them. There wasn't enough of that content.

I was with fine with family history. That's standard in memoirs. Some authors dole it all out in chunks rather than front loading it all. Much of what Rickie shared was clearly relevant and fascinating, such as what happened to her brother, her prescience about that accident and other things, her early musical explorations and contact with the manager of the Monkees, and other things. However, there were a lot of stories that just seemed like ones she wanted to remember, and they did not add anything to what readers like me would want to know that would inform what we know and love about her and her music.

Just those two things, really.

Once, she started running away from home, using drugs, finding her voice, launching her music career, I was better hooked, even though the narration still did not live up to expectations.

Sorry Rickie. I still loved the book overall and adore you and your music. My fandom has not wavered.

Thanks for all the years of amazing music. Such a gift.

I also appreciate that the memoir was titled Last Chance Texaco, a song from Rickie's first album, and one I have shared with students for years when it is time for final grade call, time for those last chance submissions.

Of course, I posted that song to my blog, so I am reprinting it here below. Also, included is my link to my Rickie mix.

Have to reprint the Texaco post because this review has to have at least one song in it by the great Rickie Lee Jones!!

Thanks for tuning in.

My Rickie Lee Jones mix:

Edited today!

Monday, November 5, 2018

A Sense of Doubt blog post #1354 - So Long My Sad-Eyed Sinatras - Musical Monday Mix for 1811.05

Original link to the post I am reprinting below:

Monday, April 10, 2023

A Sense of Doubt blog post #2974 - "Last Chance Texaco" by Rickie Lee Jones - Music Monday for 2304.10

A Sense of Doubt blog post #2974 - "Last Chance Texaco" by Rickie Lee Jones - Music Monday for 2304.10

This was going to be part of the music week that I did a little while ago, but I postponed it.

Great song.

Thanks for tuning in.

I use this song a lot in my classes to tell students it's their last chance for submitting work.

The Last Chance Texaco.

Last gas station for 500 miles.

The Last Chance Texaco, Rickie Lee Jones

Michael Clinton

 Sep 23, 2017

I love the song by Rickie Lee Jones  and these images, including stills from the film "The Misfits" of Marilyn and Monty , all of which I borrowed from the net and tried to put together,  music and photos,  in a meaningful way.       

A long stretch of headlights

Bends into I-9

Tiptoe into truck stops

And sleepy diesel eyes

Volcanoes rumble in the taxi

And glow in the dark

Camels in the driver's seat

A slow, easy mark

But you ran out of gas

Down the road a piece

Then the battery went dead

And now the cable won't reach...

It's your last chance

To check under the hood

Last chance

She ain't soundin' too good,

Your last chance

To trust the man with the star

You've found the last chance Texaco

Well, he tried to be Standard

He tries to be Mobil

He tried living in a world

And in a shell

There was this block-busted blonde

He loved her - free parts and labor

But she broke down and died

And threw all the rods he gave her

But this one ain't fuel-injected

Her plug's disconnected

She gets scared and she stalls

She just needs a man, that's all

It's her last chance

Her timing's all wrong

Her last chance

She can't idle this long

Her last chance

Turn her over and go

Pullin' out of the last chance Texaco

The last chance

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- Bloggery committed by chris tower - 2304.10 - 10:10
- Days ago = 2838 days ago
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- Bloggery committed by chris tower - 2504.30 - 10:10

- Days ago: MOM = 3590 days ago & DAD = 245 days ago

- New note - On 1807.06, I ceased daily transmission of my Hey Mom feature after three years of daily conversations. I post Hey Mom blog entries on special occasions. I post the days since ("Days Ago") count on my blog each day, and now I have a second count for Days since my Dad died on August 28, 2024. I am now in the same time zone as Google! So, when I post at 10:10 a.m. PDT to coincide with the time of Mom's death, I am now actually posting late, so it's really 1:10 p.m. EDT. But I will continue to use the time stamp of 10:10 a.m. to remember the time of her death and sometimes 13:40 EDT for the time of Dad's death. The blog entry numbering in the title has changed to reflect total Sense of Doubt posts since I began the blog on 0705.04, which include Hey Mom posts, Daily Bowie posts, and Sense of Doubt posts. Hey Mom posts will still be numbered sequentially. New Hey Mom posts will use the same format as all the other Hey Mom posts; all other posts will feature this format seen here.