Although playing stinging bluesy lead guitar around Park City for the past thirty-five years or so was far from the only acquired skill Jay “Lightnin'” Williams executed left-handed, upside-down and backwards, it did lend him a certain singularity.
Others, of course — Elizabeth Cotten and Jimi Hendrix among them — attended their art in similar fashion but none with the same distinctive flavor as Lightnin’. What came out of that mold, fashioned from the cross-pollinated DNA of American music, had a uniqueness unto itself.
An integral part of the expatriate Park City street scene that evolved during the 1970s, Lightnin’ brought humor and exuberance to a ski-town communal table already piled high with rock & roll, rugby, softball, and bop-till-you-drop nightlife. It fit him like a glove — and vice versa.
When Lightnin’ passed away last week at a hospital in Provo, a void, of which we will be a long time identifying the particulars, spread across the lives of his extended family. Not that we didn’t see it coming. His health had been declining for some time.
The grieving process, however, has been somewhat softened by the many memories of top-shelf antic behavior shared with him through the years. As a card-carrying member of a local quorum of sacred clowns and holy goofs, Lightnin’ cut a wide swath through the alternative-behavior landscape.
There was a time when his band, “Alias,” ruled Main Street and performed as the musical outfit of choice for early KPCW benefits and a wide variety of productions by the late great Ernie “The Breadman” Scow. He also played the role of Chuck Berry poster child. No one did the “duck walk” like Lightnin’ in his prime.
Once, at the Special Events Center down at the University of Utah with Emmylou Harris and The Hot Band’s lead guitarist Albert Lee rippin’ through Berry’s “C’est la Vie,” Lightnin’ duck-walked clear across the main floor right in front of the stage. The band erupted in delight and the sold-out house went nuts. And, more importantly, due to his improvisation, our money was no good at the after party.
Lightnin’ and I first hooked up in print in the March 27, 1974, edition of the long-defunct Park City Coalition newspaper as a mention in my weekly “Music Review” column. He was performing open-tuning slide guitar and vocals down at Harry’s Bar at the Utah Coal and Lumber Restaurant at the time.
Two years later, in the March 24, 1976, edition of The Newspaper, a review of his gig with long-time sidekick Chuck Connely at a bar in the “TMI” appeared in a column then named “Music Notes.” Their quite eclectic set list, it was noted, included tunes by Jesse Winchester, Traffic, Tom T. Hall, and Bob Dylan.
Further on down the road, Lightnin’ got a gig with the makeshift house band at the Eagles Lodge in Midway, where he became affectionately known as “Lefty.” Adapting himself quite easily to the twang of honky-tonk country, long one of his favorite sub-genres, he acquired a new herd of groupies to go along with the old.
There was always something rather rarified about Lightnin’s staccato single-note guitar licks. When he took a lead-guitar break in a song, there was never any doubt as to who was operating the flat-pick.
“Yeah, baby!” he would exclaim following an extremely satisfying run where a couple of hundred clipped, bent, and tortured notes had resolved themselves into one flowing tone poem. It would be then, as he raised his head to acknowledge the roaring mob, that his signature guilty smile would creep across his face.
For Lightnin’ knew from the beginning, ever since he slung that first guitar over his shoulder, that he had his foot in the door of something sinister. The fact that he had been given a six-string stun gun to play with, one that could easily be adapted for a “lefty,” reaffirmed his belief in a loving God.
Throughout the years various permutations of the original would pass through his hungry hands. His beloved Gibson ES-135 survived his “tough love.” Others didn’t.
Even when he wasn’t a member of a band per se, Lightin’ would travel with his “axe” and sit-in with different groups at the drop of a hat, or a beer mug, whichever came first. Many were the times that Block & Tackle and, later, their offshoot, the Barfly Wranglers, would welcome him to their stage.
No doubt there won’t be a dry eye at the Other End bar outside Heber this weekend. The Wranglers play Friday and Saturday nights and Lightnin’s wake will be held beginning around 3 p.m. Sunday. Upside-down and backwards will be the rule of the day. Yeah, baby!
Jay Meehan is a culture junkie and a free-lance writer with a background in commercial and community radio, among other pursuits. He has been a columnist and feature writer for various Park City publications going back to 1973.