Thursday, Jan. 28, 2010

Myrtle Beach's Minister of Music laid to rest

The mood was mostly somber and reflective Jan 15. as the standing-room-only crowd gathered at Myrtle Beach's McMillan-Small Funeral Home to pay final respects to Jeffrey Lloyd Roberts (1954-2010). The over-capacity crowd filled the small chapel, nearly spilling outside on to the sidewalk. Each lost in their own thoughts, young and old, family, friends, and some that hardly knew the man, filled the chapel to overflowing, all gathering to share the grief and sometimes light-hearted remembrances of Roberts, who died Jan. 11 at Grand Strand Regional Medical Center. Roberts had been struggling with his health, on and off, for a couple of years and his suspected cause of death was from a pulmonary thrombosis, a blood clot. Never one to complain, almost no one knew he had been in the hospital for a routine procedure and his sudden death came as shock to the community. His legacy is tied to his family and his love of music, and he will be missed by the many, many friends he made in Myrtle Beach, Nashville, Tenn., Athens, Ga., and anywhere a good song might be playing.

He was "Big Jeff" to his friends, and was usually seen wearing shorts, T-shirt, and his trademarked baseball cap, with graying ponytail hanging out the back. He was easy to spot in a crowd and even casual acquaintances recognized him. At 6-foot, 7-inches tall, a large stature, and a soft but deep, radio-friendly voice, Roberts was a true gentle giant, and a larger-than-life Myrtle Beach musical icon. Though he couldn't play an instrument, or, according to his friends, sing a note, he did much to advance music appreciation to countless locals and visitors over the course of some four decades of work in the music business. He was a devoted father and best friend to his 12-year-old son Hunter Roberts. An only child, he was a devoted son to mother, Montie Roberts (his father, Bill Roberts, passed away a couple of years ago), and Jeff Roberts' passing leaves a big void in the lives and hearts of so very many in his extended musical family.

RECORD BAR, SOUNDS FAMILIAR, SOUNDS BETTER

Sam Hannaford, a friend to Roberts for more than 30 years, made his way to McMillan-Small's altar to deliver a eulogy that was filled with fond memories, tears and laughter, and just enough of the kind of trivia about Roberts' life that Big Jeff would have loved. Among Roberts' many attributes was his encyclopedic knowledge of music. He had committed to memory, seemingly without trying, reliable stats on artists and labels, bit players and superstars, album credits and tour schedules, instrumentalists and vocalists, of all genres, dating as far back as the dawn of pop music itself. Roberts became the go-to guy whenever a music-related question might come up. Until his death Roberts ran the eclectic record shop he also owned, Sounds Better, located in the Hidden Village shopping center on U.S. 17's Restaurant Row section. Before that he called Sounds Familiar Records & Tapes home for 25 years, but his career in selling music dates back even further than that to a Myrtle Beach very few remember or ever knew. Hannaford, however, was right there at the beginning.

Hannaford's fitting tribute to his friend began with his recollection of a spring day in April 1975, when Myrtle Square Mall (razed in 2005) opened for business. A then-teenaged Roberts successfully lobbied the 22-year-old Hannaford for a job at the business he was managing, The Record Bar, a regional chain record store that would launch Roberts' career as a reseller of music - a career that would last through the next 34 years. "This tall 19-year-old, [Roberts], took a 50-cent piece and three quarters and Superglued them to the benches in front of the record store. I remember that day," said Hannaford, the crowd in the chapel laughing, picturing the mischievous Roberts and his ever-present impish grin. "Even the security guards liked that one," added Hannaford. "[Down the road] we hired Becky Farley, now Becky Warren, and she came into the office upset about something. We were boxing up record returns. With a glance between us, Jeff pinned her arms to her body and we mummified her with packing tape. I remember that day." Hannaford shared other similar stories, which led him to recall a little house concert and potluck supper in 2003 at Bob "Noodle" O'Connor's (The Mullets) home in Murrells Inlet, the birthplace of South By Southeast, a local organization that has since gained a national reputation.

SOUTH BY SOUTHEAST IS BORN

Roberts, Hannaford, Seth Funderburk, Mike Millsaps and a few others would become co-founders of the non-profit music education organization South By Southeast (SXSE), with Roberts serving as its most recent executive director. SXSE's Music Feasts (concerts and potluck dinners) began in earnest at the recreation room at the Aloha Motel (no longer standing), with the help of Millsaps, then the motel's co-owner. Later the events moved to New South Brewing Company's brewery on Campbell Street, before finally settling in at the historic Myrtle Beach Train Depot, where SXSE celebrated its 50^th Music Feast last year, and has pledged to continue on, as Roberts surely would have wished. These Music Feasts, concert, supper and fund-drives, are held every six-to-eight weeks and feature a concert by an artist from the genre Roberts loved best: Americana. A concert that had been scheduled for Jan. 16 with Angela Easterling was cancelled after Roberts' death and may be rescheduled for later this year. In addition to hosting the feasts, the organization has offered grant money to young musicians and school music programs in need, and organized music instrument drives, donating collected instruments to area schools.

One such young grant recipient has known Roberts as far back as she can remember, and credits him for her love of mountain music. Multi-instrumentalist, 17-year-old Haselden "Hasee" Ciaccio is a recipient of a SXSE music grant, which afforded the opportunity to travel to New York City with the Myrtle Beach High School orchestra when she was in the ninth grade. She has recently been accepted into the East Tennessee State University as a Bluegrass, Old Time, and Country Music major, a unique Bachelor of Arts performance degree program where she will learn about Appalachian music while living in the heart of Appalachians, Johnson City, Tenn. "I've known Jeff for a long, long, time," said Ciaccio. "I bought my first CDs as kid at [Sounds Familiar]. We would hang out and he'd give us CDs. I was in fifth grade when I first started volunteering with SXSE, and if it weren't for seeing the SXSE shows, I would have never started playing the mandolin."

Randall Bramblett is a Georgia-based recording artist, singer/songwriter and multi-instrumentalist whose album credits and concert appearances read like the who's who of rock 'n' roll: Greg Allman, Bonnie Raitt, Elvin Bishop, Robbie Robertson, Steve Winwood, Traffic, Widespread Panic, and many more, though he may be best known as the lead vocalist and primary songwriter for jazz-rock outfit Sea Level. He is a three-time performer at SXSE, and is scheduled again for a SXSE appearance on March 6. He remembers Hannaford and Roberts and the kindness and professionalism shown to him and his group. "I'm sad to hear about Jeff," said Bramblett from his Georgia home. "Everybody there [SXSE] was so great. They are a special group of people, that's why we're coming back. Jeff and Sam were so nice to us."

25 YEARS AT SOUNDS FAMILIAR

At Roberts' memorial service Hannaford asked for those in attendance to raise their hands if they'd ever worked at Sounds Familiar - at least 20 hands shot up in the air, proud to have been a part of the important store and part of the life of a man who was a father figure and big brother to so many. Sound engineer Rob Gainer, who worked with The Drag, Legends in Concert and now Alabama Theatre was one who raised his hand, as did Funderburk, who managed Sounds Familiar and was as much a fixture in the store as Roberts. Funderburk now manages the band Ten Toes Up, and is co-owner of SeaNote Recording along with Gainer. "It's been over a week since I got the call that one of my best friends in the world had passed away," said Funderburk, "and I still don't feel remotely quotable on the subject. But as I continue to reflect on our time together, I realize that I have stopped feeling sorry for friends and family that lost Jeff, and started feeling sorry for those that never knew him. As I talked to Jeff's friends from all over the country this week, I began to understand how many lives he touched, and he had a special place for each of us in his heart, as we did for him. Depending on who you talked to, Jeff was the music guy, the book guy, the food guy, the movie guy, the Southwest guy, the car guy, dad, son, or just Jeff - but somehow, beautifully, he kept it all straight, and was just who he needed to be for each one of us. I'll miss him."

In speaking with Roberts' many friends and acquaintances, the common chord between so many of them is Sounds Familiar, the record store at 38th Avenue North and Kings Highway in Myrtle Beach, which was like a less-cynical, kinder version of the shop featured in Nick Hornby's "High Fidelity." It's there that so many of these music-lovers can trace their ties to the big man behind the counter. Roberts, a managing partner, ran the store that was as much a gathering place for local musicians, music fans and Roberts' friends, as it was a retail fixture in the Myrtle Beach landscape. It's there that Roberts developed his friendships with so many including Marty Richardson, the area's original dueling pianist/entertainer and co-creator and former co-owner of Crocodile Rocks Dueling Piano Bar. "I met Jeff when I moved here 17 years ago," said Richardson. I thought I knew a lot about the music biz and its history until I met him - he was a walking databank of everything music. I discovered that Jeff was a teacher on many levels, and was more than just bits and pieces of trivia."

When Paul Peterson of Coastal Carolina University's Department of Politics, and member of the Horry County School Board, first met Roberts, he felt he had found an oasis in the midst of a cultural dessert that was Myrtle Beach. "I moved here in 1982," said Peterson, and I couldn't find any bookstores, but I found Sounds Familiar. How could a community of this size [and with no bookstores] have a record store like this? [And Jeff] was in the record business because he loved music. When Myrtle Beach was, to a certain extent, a cultural wasteland, there was Jeff Roberts and Sounds Familiar offering the community friendship, conversation, and the best music in the world. It would be difficult to overstate Jeff's enormously positive influence on our community. He will be greatly missed."

Musician Mike McCoy could walk to Sounds Familiar.

"My friendship with Jeff goes back over 25-years," said McCoy, guitarist and songwriter with local act The Necessary Band. "I lived behind Sounds Familiar and used to frequent that place two or three times a week. It was second home to me. [Jeff's] taste in music was just like mine. We both thought that "Kind of Blue" by Miles Davis was the best all-around jazz album, and that "Live at the Fillmore East" by the Allman Brothers was the best live recording. Jeff went on WRNN talk radio to help me promote an album I had recorded, and said some very nice things. It was a pleasure to have been a friend of such a giving person."

While on a much smaller scale and more of a niche store, Roberts carried on the vibe of Sounds Familiar at his next venture, Sounds Better.

Former Weekly Surge staff writer Timothy C. Davis recalls Sounds Better making an impact, too.

"Like probably everyone else, Jeff's passing came as a big shock to me," wrote Davis in an e-mail. "When I first moved to Myrtle Beach to work at Surge, a little homesick, Jeff's record store was a little haven for me. I'd enter, perhaps looking for something particular. When I left, inevitably an hour or so later, I'd not only been hipped to some cool things I'd never heard before - say, some rare Chicago harmonica blues - but somehow felt better, too. Jeff had that make-you-feel-at-home barber shop thing going on, both in his store and in your one-on-one interactions with him. He always made you feel interesting, and interested, too - sometimes a rare combination in a person."

HEY MAN, YOU GOTTA HEAR THIS

Roberts' ability and willingness to meet anyone and everyone on their own level was a hallmark of his style. "Growing up I went to The Record Bar and spent my allowance there," said Paul Eubanks, a member of The Feast, a band that includes Hannaford, Millsaps, O'Connor, Ciaccio, Richardson, and others. "[After that] I went to Sounds Familiar all the time. I would spend three-to-four hours there every time I went. I kneeled at the altar of his vast repertoire of musical knowledge - but he didn't operate from an Ivory Tower. He loved the dialog about music and could listen to you as well as tell you things he knew. He was always humble about his knowledge, and never spoke down to anybody from on high." Richardson recalls a statement made by Roberts that has stuck with him. "Jeff once said to me 'All of this stuff in this world, is not as important as what we leave behind for others.'" Richardson, like nearly all of Roberts' friends, saw him as much more than just a decent guy who knew a lot of music trivia. "He was, and is, my role model. I was blessed to have had him in my life - a cool drink of water on a hot day. I think about him a lot."

The aftershock still hasn't worn off for many in Roberts' circle.

"It's still unbelievable to me that he's gone," said David Henson, sound engineer, producer and a music historian in his own right. "Large Jeffrey was a dear friend, a true music man and one of the most knowledgeable retailers and music historians that I've ever met. I'm still in shock. He will be greatly missed." Peter MacIntyre, a friend of Roberts' from the mid-1970s, recalled Roberts' ability to identify the seemingly unidentifiable. "I'd ask about some obscure [song or artist] I'd heard on an equally obscure radio station, and a week or so later a CD would arrive with a note from Jeff 'I think this is what you were looking for...' and it always was. Such eclectic tastes, over such a broad spectrum of music, exists in no other man." Roberts was famously generous, giving away as much as he sold, lending CDs to those whom he wanted the music to inspire. "Hey man, you gotta hear this,' was a standard greeting offered by Roberts who remembered people and their tastes, always finding new songs or artists for them to experience.

Beyond his influence in local and national music circles, Roberts, a life-long resident of the Grand Strand, was seen by many as sort of an eternal fixture here with no real beginning, or end. "Jeff was just always here," said Phyllis Tannerfrye, an artist and musician who records, paints and performs her original folk/Americana tunes around the region. Tannerfrye, like others, recalled his extraordinary musical knowledge, but knows that's the smaller part of Roberts' story. Any conversation about Roberts will include his well-known musical knowledge but also, and more importantly, his character, a recurring theme, that speaks to his genuineness, humility and willingness to help others. "I knew Roberts from hanging out at The Record Bar and at Sounds Familiar," said Tannerfrye. "I tried so hard to get my music out into the world, and Jeff was the most encouraging to me, of anyone that I knew." Tannerfrye joined family and friends at Roberts' graveside after the chapel service singing the country/folk/gospel classic "Will the Circle be Unbroken."

Beyond the impact to the casual music lover, Roberts' influence in the professional world of music is just as profound. Myrtle Beach native Steve Bailey is an internationally known jazz bassist who carved out a career as a performer, session musician, producer and teacher. He credits Roberts for having been the "seed" and "catalyst" in the 1970s that launched him toward a profession in which he now enjoys worldwide recognition. "Jeff sold jazz records at The Record Bar, when I was [a kid], in the mid-'70s," said Bailey. "If it were not for that store, I believe I would not have the career that I enjoy today, and I would have never moved beyond Myrtle Beach. I can remember walking in there with allowance money and buying Chic Corea and Stanley Clarke jazz albums. He stocked such a wide variety of music. Without that store I'd have never ever owned a Chic Corea album. And he was always a big supporter of mine. He stocked my solo albums and he made otherwise hard-to-get music accessible to the people of Myrtle Beach."

IT TAKES A VILLAGE

As a single father, Roberts was dedicated to his son, Hunter, and the two had just begun to explore their relationship on a more adult level. Last year Roberts took him to Nashville on an Americana Music Association outing, Hunter had become a regular at SXSE events, and Roberts enjoyed taking him along anywhere he could. To those that knew them both said they were best friends. At Roberts' memorial service, Hannaford dealt with Hunter's tragic loss directly but with sensitivity. He spoke to the young man, who is tall for his age and just as full of music and smiles as his father. And Hannaford spoke to the many in attendance that had had the privilege of seeing Roberts and his son together. "I first met Jeff when I was Hunter's age," said Hannaford, "and I lost my father when I was young, but I had an uncle who stepped in and tried [hard] to be a father figure. Hunter, you have a world full of aunts and uncles, many here in this room."

At the memorial service Nell Ciaccio, Hasee Ciaccio, Cheryl Prince, and George Marshall made musical offerings. Hannaford finished the eulogy using metaphoric language that spoke to the kind of afterlife we might have hoped for Roberts - or even ourselves. "Jeff is running a new record store called Sounds Like Heaven. Jeff [is saying] to the likes of Duane Allman, Johnny Cash, Miles [Davis], Dale Earnhardt, George Harrison, John Lennon, Mozart, Pavarotti, Elvis, and even Frank Zappa - 'Hey man, you gotta hear this'."