The Long-Lost Moods Of The Dude :: Jeff Bridges’ “Slow Magic” (1977-1978) Album Revealed
Photo courtesy of Candy Clark
Photo: Wikimedia Commons CC-BY
For well-known, emotionally established actors and actresses who have had creative careers in music, the unhinged success and fabricated fever dream of Hollywood is rather typical. Starring in some of the most beloved films to hit the silver screen is something we take for granted, as some people’s past lives were filled with poetic pearls and rare riches that transcend financial fundamentals and the exploitative ecosystem of mass attention. Wait, Elvis was a musician before "Jailhouse Rock" and "Blue Hawaii," right? Indeed, and so were Gary Busey (The Rubber Band/Carp), Creed Bratton (The Grass Roots), Joe Pesci, and Ben Stiller (Capital Punishment), to name a few. Jeffrey Leon Bridges first came onto the scene as a musician, having sold the rights to two songs, one being “Lost in Space" to the late and great Quincy Jones, who gracefully used it for the soundtrack of the 1970 hit film "John and Mary," allowing Bridges to contribute vocals. The harmonious hybrid was never quite sure if he was an actor, a musician, or both as his career unfolded universally. ”Music is the weed that keeps popping out of the concrete in my life. It just seems to want to come out,” Bridges once explained about the poetic phenomenon. As complex and undeniably strange as we humans are, it is without obvious doubt that if you've got it, let it all out. “I guess that's the way the whole durned-human comedy keeps perpetuatin' itself down through the generations. Westward the wagons, across the sands of time until we - ah, look at me. I'm ramblin' again,” said The Stranger.
Photo: AP
Carefully conjured from the boisterous bones of a dilapidated cassette that read “July 1978,” the feverish findings within the transcendental tape of magnetic melody entitled “Slow Magic” explore a tonal time and precious place in Bridges’ iconically inspiring journey through sound, monumental meditation, and the ever-expanding practice towards the cosmic constitution of the “Dude.” Having served in the US Coast Guard Reserves from 1967 to 1975, Bridges inhabited a multi-layered flesh suit of fluency in the arts, sophisticated service, and, above all, the status of being a human’s human. Studying the piano at a young age, which was strongly encouraged by his mother, Bridges began to gravitate towards the guitar and the exciting ethos of being a songwriter that naturally followed. Though his friend group and So-cal community of ex-hippies, who now occupied the tedious torches of melody misfits and ruffian renegades, grew up around cinema and Hollywood hysteria, Bridges spent all his free time off-set playing and recording with a tight-knit circle of musicians who consisted of childhood friends, local lunatics, artists, brave Bohemians, future members of Oingo Boingo and some of L.A’s finest youth.
“I dug what an actor did, but it took me a while to feel it, to truly appreciate the craft and the preparation. Plus, I was still playing music a lot, and I guess I had a hard time choosing: was I an actor or a musician, or could I be both?”
Bridges told Rolling Stone, “I hold my dear buddy Steve Baim responsible for a lot of that [relaxed] vibe. We used to meet every Wednesday night at Baim’s house. We would jam, and there were rules. No [cover] songs allowed, but singing was encouraged, and you could jam with your voice and makeup shit, but no planned songs. But I was writing songs at that time, and I would invite these guys over to do my songs, too. And then we got in cahoots with this guy, [musician and composer] Ken Lauber. I was doing a movie called Hearts Of The West [released in 1975], and I met Kenny. I played him some tunes in my trailer. He said, “Oh yeah, let’s record these.” I’ve got another person I hold majorly responsible, [film composer] Keefus Ciancia. After [2009’s] Crazy Heart, which T-Bone Burnett was instrumental in producing, I said, “Hey, Bone, I got a batch of songs, man, do you want to go back into the studio and do it?” So I went back there with the same band that did [Robert Plant and Alison Krauss’] Raising Sand. And during that session, I met this guy, Keefus Ciancia, who played keyboards and does music for True Detective. And then a few years after that album, we did a thing called Sleeping Tapes. It’s this weird little series that we did on the cuff. It’s in the same spirit as the Wednesday-night jams. So Keefus and I did that together. We had a ball, and then Keefus says, “Hey, why don’t we come into the studio and let’s just see what comes out.” So I went there with all my tunes that I had written, and he fell in love with this material. And I played him this album, which consisted of a little cassette. We had to find a way to play it. He loved it. And without telling me, he sent it to his buddy, Matt Sullivan, at this outfit called Light in the Attic that is into archival music. And he ended up digging it and wanted to make an album. And I said, “You’re kidding, man.” He said, “No.” I said, “OK.”
Photo: Audrey Hall
The album’s cosmic contents engulf the eager ears of its liberated listeners by plunging them into the poetic psyche of California culture and late-night metaphysics. Including tracks such as “Kong,” which was inspired by the monumental creature of cinema in the 1976 “King Kong” remake that Bridges starred in but was technically motivated by the never-made idea he had for a sequel before its production took place, “Obnoxious,” “Here On This Island” and spoken-word manifestations that feature the late Burgess Meredith (“Batman TV series”/“Rocky” series). Set for an exclusive release on Record Store Day, “Slow Magic” is exactly that: a feverish flame that has been quietly burning in a cryptic cave for nearly half a century, storing its meditative mystery until now.
