It’s much more than just a side project for Reverend Horton
Heat (Jim Heath), Tim Alexander and Todd Soesbe.
By Chuck Flores
“This is Jim Heath and he wants to play in the band.” The pudgy, blond-haired kid
held up the yellow Gibson Les Paul Junior before me in a humble, almost Oliver
Twist manner. I say kid because he was only 15 and I had reached the ripe age of 18.
This was 1974 in Corpus Christi, Texas, where I was heading up Chantilly Lace, a ’
50s band that included my sister Sara, 15, on lead female vocals and my multi-
instrumentalist 16 year-old brother, Dave. In the wake of American Graffiti and Happy
Days, we had carved out a niche playing sock hops and other events.
I can’t remember the kid saying more than a couple of words that day. What I do
remember is him plugging into the Sears Silvertone amp and launching into the
beginning lick of “Johnny B. Goode.” Actually, it was only part of the lick. The kid
had the right sound and feel, but he kept repeating the same piece of a lick over and
over.
I hired him immediately.
Shortly after joining up, something happened that would change the rookie guitarist
forever. When we played Bill Haley’s “Rock Around The Clock,” Jim had to turn the
lead guitar chores over to the piano player, my brother. Jim’s inability to execute
what is probably the first rock and roll guitar solo, with its jazzy overtones and quick
runs shamed him into some serious wood shedding that saw him emerge with a
new-found confidence.
I left for college the next year, but not before Jim and I had formed Southern Comfort,
a southern/hard rock outfit, and he was already playing rock and electric blues with
a proficiency belying his 16 years. He moved to Dallas shortly thereafter.
By the early ‘80s, after years with cover bands, Jim was living above Russell Hobbs’
Theatre Gallery, the first club in the seminal Deep Ellum scene. Jim was working on
his chops and writing his own material. He finally got a regular gig at the Prophet Bar
where he played (with the famous moniker from Hobbs) solo for a while, sometimes
with the accompaniment of Asleep at the Wheel veteran Tim Alexander on accordion.
His growing reputation as a live performer won him steady work as more clubs
started to open in Deep Ellum. When he hooked up with standup bass player Jimbo
Wallace and drummer Patrick “Taz” Bentley, he had indeed found his own sound.
I moved to Dallas in 1988 and finally ran into Jim at the Plaza Room in 1989. He was
happy to show how far he’d come. Onstage, the transformation from the shy, pudgy
kid I had known was dramatic. No longer merely an exceptional guitar player, Jim
was the front man of his own band, singing his own songs in his own way.
belying his 16 years: Jim Heath (left) with Chuck Flores
His rockabilly roots rang true with a hard, relentless, punk drive and a larger than life
persona. It was this persona and drive that got him signed to Sub Pop in 1989. When
I heard the not so subtle “Love Whip” from his debut Smoke ‘Em If You Got ‘Em
I knew he was onto something.
Reverend Horton Heat appealed to rockabilly fanatics, guitar nuts, the alternative
music scene, bikers, and greasers of every stripe. His thematic obsession with fast
cars, fast women, and chemical libation might have had something to do with that.
Nationally and internationally, Jim had acquired a high ‘cool’ factor.
In 1994, Jim moved up to Interscope Records. In a joint release with Sub Pop, they
issued Liquor In The Front. The follow-up CD, It’s Martini Time had a minor hit with
the title track. Shortly thereafter, Taz left the band and was replaced with Scott
“Chernobyl” Churilla. By 1998, the band’s reputation had reached the attention of
Drew Carrey, who featured them in his TV show.
“I know that guy!” I explained to my pals when I saw him on the little screen.
“Yeah, right,” was the quick reply.
Ironically, with his big Gretch guitar and big, colorful suits complete with bowtie, Jim
was actually starting to look like Bill Haley.
In the meantime, they continued to tour, opening for acts like ZZ Top, Smashing
Pumpkins, Soundgarden, White Zombie and an up-and-coming Marilyn Manson.
Big labels have never known how to deal with Texas acts, and Reverend Horton
Heat was no exception. Interscope released Space Heater and a boxed set, Spend A
Night In The Box, and then released the band itself.
Their one and only release on Artemis, the harder-edged Lucky 7 got them more
attention when the Daytona 500 race used the single “Like a Rocket” for their theme.
This visibility led to a new record deal, this time with Yep Roc in 2003. His latest
release, Revival brims with energy, bravado and wonderful sleaze. Jim jumps from
countrified rockabilly to blues to jazzy numbers to all-out mosh pit rock.
Signature Guitar
Earlier this year, Gretsch Guitars honored Jim as they debuted the Reverend Horton
Heat signature model guitar.
While at home between tours, Jim was golfing with keyboardist and longtime friend,
Tim Alexander. Tim plays regularly with Elvis T. Busboy, has held down a solo gig
Thursday nights at Daddy Jacks in Deep Ellum for the last seven years, and is an in-
demand session player.
“He said he wanted to start a side project,” Tim recalled, “I was like, hell, yeah. I was
all nervous and stuff…so we started practicing.”
Jim and the 5-time Grammy winner found an able drummer in Jim’s next-door
neighbor, Todd Soesbe, who plays with local surf band, Starkey when he’s not
pursuing a Doctorate in Sciences at UT Southwestern. The resulting group,
Reverend Organ Drum debuted at the All Good Café. To Tim’s surprise and delight,
Jim called, wanting to practice and learn more songs.
every Wednesday night in August and October. This outfit steers a different musical
course than Reverend Horton Heat. Driven by Tim’s Hammond B-3, they take on
nuggets like “Soulfinger,” the “James Bond Theme,” “Route 66, ” “Can’t Buy Me
Love,” “St. James Infirmary” and Freddy King’s “Hideaway.”
Reverend Organ Drum also marks a distinct change in Jim’s role. Rather than being
the point man, musically, he is playing the part of sideman. “There’s roots,
retro…loungy,” Jim said, trying to define their sound. “These guys will haul off and
do anything, but yeah, but we are a good lounge band.”
They’re much more than a good lounge band, and Jim doesn’t stay a sideman for
long. When it’s solo time, he steps up with all the authority you’d expect from the
Rev. They make a bigger sound than most four or five-piece bands. They’ve ended
some shows a very musical drum solo (with Todd smiling all the while), only to come
back with Black Sabbath’s “War Pigs.”
One of the reasons the band plays so relaxed and seems to be having such a good
time is because they really don’t need to succeed.
“You know, it’s fun to get to play all these songs,” Tim explained. “You don’t have to
worry about being necessarily perfect; you don’t have to worry if you fail. If you fail,
it’s like, okay, we tried. So what – it doesn’t mean we’re not going to eat.”
But Reverend Organ Drum is more than the side project it started out as.
“I feel like we're a band because we've rehearsed more than we've played time-wise,
like the old days,” Tim said. “A key factor is that we live so close that getting together
is easy. We take pride in the music. We get together before every gig to go over the
tougher arrangements. We do a lot of challenging, difficult arrangements that a jam
band could not pull off.”
“It’s been a rewarding thing for me to be able to do,” Tim continued. “(I want to)
continue to do this for awhile…now that we’ve created it, it’s always there.”
So will this in some way influence the direction Jim’s day job, his regular gig with
Reverend Horton Heat?
“All I know is it’s all going to be positive,” Jim said. “I’m going through a little phase
where after I release an album, I look for something to do. This (Reverend Organ
Drum) is a concept I’m gonna try. This is kind of new for me, a whole other animal, so
it’s a beautiful thing, you know.”
Then he smiled, so happy with his new musical toy, I could have sworn I saw the
face of that kid again.
(This story appeared originally in Buddy Magazine, December 2004.)
