I was only vaguely aware of Jack before we worked on that album together. I’d heard his name once when I was over in Europe, and I knew he’d had a band called The White Stripes. But I didn’t really know much about who he was. I always try to say I knew of him more than I actually did, because Jack’s a big star, and I don’t want people to think I’m not keeping up! But if I didn’t know much about him at first, I found out real quick.
The idea of working with Jack came to me through Jon Hensley, who was my publicist and manager until he died unexpectedly at the age of thirty-one in 2015. Jon was really great about making sure younger folks knew who I was and appreciated my music. One day he mentioned to Wendell that Jack White was interested in recording me. Wendell didn’t know anything about Jack at the time, so he didn’t pay much attention. We were at home one day when he said, “Boy, I keep getting all these emails from this Jack White guy. He must really want to work with you.” My daughter Gina was walking through the room and overheard his comment. She stopped right in her tracks. “What did you say, Dad? Jack White is a huge star. You need to write him back immediately!”
Once the grandkids found out about it they went nuts. My granddaughter said, “Ma! You don’t know Jack White? He’s the biggest thing in the world. You’ve GOT to work with him!” At first I wasn’t really sure if I wanted to do it or not. Honestly, I was a little intimidated. Jack was a big rock star, and he seemed to come from a different world than me. I didn’t know if we would be particularly compatible or if he would really understand me as an artist. But for the sake of my children and grandchildren, I reluctantly resigned myself to giving it a try.
Jack and I began communicating about song ideas over the phone and via email, but I never actually saw him in person until it was time to record. I went down to Nashville in 2010 and met up with him at his house. He had a beautiful home with about five acres. He showed me around, and I thought he was so cute with that hair hanging down in his face. I never did mind long hair on guys if it was clean and neat. There was a shyness about Jack that kind of reminded me of Elvis. I liked him right away, but there was still a bit of awkwardness between us, since we were virtually strangers.
We went into the control room in his studio, where we sat down to talk and get to know each other. He explained to me that he didn’t enjoy digital recording, but preferred to make records on analog tape the way we used to do it. He was excited to show me his vintage tape recorder. He said, “You know what I call this one?” I shook my head. He said, “Her name is Wanda.” He let out a nervous laugh and I gave him a great big smile. I was flattered by that. The more we talked the more comfortable I got. Jack is a genuine person, and I could see that this guy was really a fan. He could name a lot of my songs, including some of the lesser-known things, and was obviously very familiar with my career. I respected him because he knew my kind of music even better than I did. He had studied it. It was clear that Jack was for me in every way, and I felt honored by the respect he showed me.
After we talked for a little while, Jack said, “Are you ready to hear some of your playbacks?”
I was a little taken aback. “You’ve already got playbacks?” It never occurred to me that he might have already recorded the tracks before my arrival. I said, “Jack, you didn’t ever ask me what key I sing these songs in.”
He kind of chuckled uneasily and said, “No, I’m sorry. I kind of guessed at it.”
Once he started playing the songs I liked what I heard, but there were a couple of them I couldn’t sing. The key was too high and they were too fast. “Rip It Up?” My gosh, it was so fast! I said, “Jack we can’t use that one. I won’t be able to do it.”
“Oh, it’ll be fine,” he said. “I think you can handle it.”
“The only way I can sing it is if we lower the pitch, and the only way to lower the pitch is to slow it down. I’m going to have to slow it down anyway to get all those words in.” Once we did that, it was still on the higher end. When you hear it on the album, I sound like I’m about sixteen years old. On the next song, I sound like an old lady!
I was happy with the songs we picked out for the album. When Jack said he wanted me to do “Rum and Coca-Cola,” I couldn’t believe it. I always loved the version by the Andrews Sisters since I was a kid, and I’d always wanted to record it. I don’t know why I never had, but it was as if Jack knew exactly what was right for me. That blew my mind.
One of the songs he had pushed me to do was “You Know I’m No Good” by Amy Winehouse. Amy was still living at the time, but I wasn’t familiar with her. From the start, I told Jack I didn’t really know the song and, truth be told, I didn’t even actually try to learn it. I didn’t want to record it. I thought maybe we could skip over that one, but when I found out Jack had already brought the band in to create the track, I figured there wasn’t any getting out of it. Finally, I told myself, “Wanda, if you’re going to work with this young guy, do what he suggests. He has his finger on the pulse and he’s got your best interest at heart.”
Of course, that didn’t make me any more prepared. I was in the recording booth with headphones on. Jack would sing me the notes from the control room. He’d have me sing along with him two or three times, and then we’d go to the next line. He taught me the song right there on the spot. Jack was incredibly patient, which is unusual for a young man. What’s funny is that I didn’t want to record “You Know I’m No Good,” but it has since become one of my favorites. That’s one of the songs I regularly do on stage, and I love to sing it. I was so sad when Amy Winehouse died in 2011. She was only twenty-seven years old, and was so talented. I can only imagine how many great songs we missed out on when she left us too soon.
Jack knew that Bob Dylan liked my music, so he called Bob and told him about our session. Jack said, “I want her to do one of your songs. Which one do you think it should be?” Bob didn’t pause for a second. He replied, “Oh, ‘Thunder on the Mountain.’ No question.” Bob’s song had just come out four or five years earlier, but Jack and I both agreed it was a great song for me. The original version references Alicia Keys and her being born in Hell’s Kitchen. We changed it to Jerry Lee being born in Ferriday, Louisiana. That was a lot of fun to give a little nod to my old friend. We changed some other lines, too, to reference Oklahoma and my song “Funnel of Love,” so I like to tell people that Bob Dylan and I are co-writers. Obviously we’re not, but it sounds impressive, doesn’t it? Bob once famously called me “an atomic fireball of a lady” on his radio show, so I have to do my best to live up to his expectations!
We wound up shooting a video for “Thunder on the Mountain,” and Jack just amazed me. He’s real feisty onstage. He’s all over the place, kidding me and bumping me. I don’t know how many takes we did for that, but every single one was like the first one with Jack. He put his all into it each time. One of the things about Bob Dylan’s songs is they tend to have plenty of words in them. I hadn’t memorized “Thunder on the Mountain,” so there were cue cards everywhere on that set. The cameras were trying to keep from showing them, and I think they succeeded. The whole thing was fun and exhausting. I had a blast. Jack brought that old rock-and-roll energy back when I needed it most.
We set up a short tour with three or four shows. They were really more like record release parties, but Jack’s name on the bill drew some really big crowds. I had a nine-piece band behind me, plus two background singers, including Ashley Monroe, who has gone on to make quite a splash as a country singer herself. Jack had a horn section, and he had rehearsed that band so tightly that I didn’t have to worry about a thing.
We performed “Shakin’ All Over” on David Letterman’s show a few days after our public debut at the Grand Ole Opry. That was so much fun. When we finished, Dave himself came over and called for an encore as the credits rolled. He was really thrilled with it. The next night we did a concert in New York, before flying to Los Angeles for two consecutive shows at the El Rey Theater. The Party Ain’t Over came out the nex
t day, and we did one more TV appearance on Conan O’Brien’s show. We played “Funnel of Love,” and then Conan interviewed me and Jack together afterward. I could tell Conan was a true fan of mine.
I remember when we were looking at photos for the album cover, the art director was making comments about how he could make some little tweaks to my appearance. He said, “Okay, I can sharpen the jaw line here,” and that kind of thing.
I turned to Jack and I said, “Please have him take out more of those wrinkles.”
“No, I don’t want that,” Jack said. “You’ve earned those wrinkles. I think you should be proud of them.”
Despite my little moment of vanity, Jack was right. I’d like to show the younger girls who do respect me that it’s all right to be old. We all have to age gracefully, so we must accept it as part of life, and just do the best we can. I see older women who, to me, are just beautiful with their silver gray hair, the way they dress nicely, and the classy way they carry themselves.
I have many warm and wonderful memories of working with Jack, but it was a bittersweet time in my life. When we were in Nashville rehearsing for our shows, I got a phone call from Gina telling me that Mother, or Bobo as we all called her, was being taken to the hospital. She had turned ninety-seven less than a month before, and it looked like she was near the end. I felt terrible to do it to Jack, but I had to leave to go home. Of course, he was gracious and promised the band would be ready.
I rushed home to be by my mom’s side. She hung on for several days, but I had to return for that Opry appearance. Gina called me at about three in the morning on the day I was to fly out to Nashville. “Mom,” she said, “Bobo’s gone.” I was devastated. Mother had been in mental decline for about five years at the time she died. In fact, she had to be confined to the lockdown area in the facility where she’d been living. Considering she never was any good at sitting still, it was no surprise that she was always trying to get out. She got her monitoring bracelet off one time and took three or four other old ladies with her. They got out to the road before someone realized they’d made a break for it. She caused all kinds of havoc at that place, but even though she’d not been herself for a while, it was still hard to accept the fact that she was gone.
I was in a complete fog when I received the news, but I had to get up and get to the airport. Oklahoma was covered in ice, so it took extra time to get there. We were late taking off, since the plane had to de-ice. It was a miserable morning, but we got to Nashville, had a chance to rehearse with Jack one more time, and then did the Opry the following night.
I headed right back to Oklahoma, where we buried Mother after a beautiful funeral at her beloved South Lindsay Baptist Church. The following day I was performing on David Letterman’s show. It was quite a whirlwind to be performing at two of the most important venues in the country with one of the best bands I’d ever played with in between losing and burying Mother. To say it was an emotional rollercoaster would be an understatement.
Even though that period of time is clouded with the memories of losing Mother, I can still say that The Party Ain’t Over is one of my best albums, and one of my personal favorites. It was a real challenge, which is one of the things I really liked about it. Instead of covering the same old ground once again, Jack pushed me into some exciting new territory and reignited my rebellious rock-and-roll soul at a time when I needed a little fire under me. Like Rosie Flores and Elvis Costello before him, Jack White has been another important champion of my career resurgence who also became a dear friend.
Chapter 26
My favorite photo of Wendell and me together. We were celebrating our thirtieth anniversary.
IN THE MIDDLE OF A HEARTACHE
I was seventy-three years old when The Party Ain’t Over came out, but I had no interest in slowing down. I was thrilled when Jon Hensley suggested I work with Jack White, but the album came out so great, and we got such a wonderful critical reception, that I didn’t know how I was possibly going to top it. I felt like I’d done my very best, and I would have been happy to say “that’s it.” I still wanted to tour and play for the fans, but it was hard to imagine I was going to make another record that I would be as proud of.
Jon suggested that I should record at least one more album, and recommended Justin Townes Earle to produce it. I didn’t know Justin. I’d heard his name, but didn’t know his music. I listened to a few things he’d recorded, and I appreciated his rootsy country style, so I decided to give it a shot. Unfortunately, I was on the road a good bit in 2012 and didn’t have much time to think about what material I’d record. Justin sent me some songs, so I made my selections long distance. He sent some good things, and I think he had a good sense of what kind of material would work for me.
When it came time to record, however, I’d just finished up some European dates. I’d been traveling a lot and was tired. We’d worked pretty hard and the album, Unfinished Business reflects it. The songs were good and were cute, but my voice just wasn’t in top form. The famous horror writer Stephen King wrote the liner notes and said, “There was never a singer quite like Wanda Jackson, one who could hold her own with rockabilly rebels like Gene Vincent and Jerry Lee Lewis any day of the week.” I was flattered, but I felt like I was wrung out before we even started recording. Justin was smart to take me back to more of a simple, stripped-down country and rockabilly sound. It wouldn’t have worked if he’d tried to compete with what Jack had created for my previous album, but it was also hard to recapture the excitement that Jack had created.
Unfinished Business was not a career high point for me. It’s not Justin’s fault; it’s just that the timing was off. I had fans and critics who were complimentary, but I know I could have done better. Sometimes I like to pull out my albums and listen to them as a way of walking down memory lane. This is one I hardly ever listen to. I suppose the title was meant to suggest that I had more to do and that perhaps that album would be my final recorded statement. Ironically, it actually left me with unfinished business. I decided soon after it was recorded that I would make at least one more album before I hung it up for good. I just needed to wait for the right moment.
Wendell and I continued to tour the world, but, despite our best efforts, we couldn’t outrun some of the problems that tend to come creeping in with age. The last couple of years, in particular, presented some real heath challenges, and I was starting to feel a little beat up there for a while. There was a stretch when it seemed like I was in the hospital more than I was out!
Nobody wants to hear people complain about their medical problems, but I’ll give you just a little background because it’s not really a story about my aches and pains so much as it is a story of God’s goodness in seeing me through with His healing power.
My issues began after I contracted an infection in my foot that ended up getting into the bone. While I was being treated for that problem, I contracted MRSA, a virus that clings to any metal or alloy. Since I’d had a knee replacement years before, that MRSA just clung to it and would not leave my body. The doctors ended up taking out the replacement and I went for weeks without a knee. I had to walk on my tip toes, all the while taking a high-powered intravenous antibiotic, which just about wiped me out.
During that whole ordeal I fell a couple of times, including once at home, where I knocked my shoulder blade out of joint and chipped the bone. I could go on about my arthritis and other ailments, but the point is that, though it was all very difficult, God won’t ever give you more than you can take. I knew I’d push through and get back on my feet again. That’s what was most important to me.
Finally, after three operations in a row and three rounds of the medication, the MRSA virus was gone and I could walk again. For some reason, however, the doctors discovered that I had some internal bleeding. I was starting to feel like I couldn’t catch a break. But God always has a plan, and He knew how He was going to bring my strength and my health back.
My granddaughter, Jordan, who lives in Na
shville and works in the music business, was working with a female trio called Bang!Bang! She booked the girls down in Mexico for an event at a hospital in Tijuana called CHIPSA. Jordan started talking with the owner, Ed Clay, and ended up telling him about my various health challenges. He encouraged her to bring me down there for their innovative inpatient program, which focuses on both medical and nutritional therapy.
My trip to Mexico was a transformative experience. I was there for about a month in the spring of 2017, and Wendell was able to be with me, since their “companion stay” facilities are designed for patients to bring their loved ones for support and encouragement. I received a much-needed blood transfusion and went through a series of oxygen treatments in a hyperbaric chamber. I had to drink thirteen glasses of juice every day and take what seemed like a hundred pills a day. I also ate an all vegan diet. That part was awful. I thought, Oh, Lord, deliver me! I’m a meat and potatoes gal, so that was rough on me. But I’ll be darned if the place didn’t turn everything around for me. God brought the right people along at the right time to help restore my health.
After my stay in Mexico, I felt like a new woman. I was ready to get back onstage and remember, once again, what it’s like to perform without feeling exhausted. Wendell and I went out in May, 2017, to play dates in Chicago, Nashville, and Birmingham. We were joined at all three shows by Jordan, who in addition to her various music industry pursuits in Nashville, is an integral part of the third generation of family members who make up Wanda Jackson Enterprises. She started out helping with my publicity and began transitioning into handling management responsibilities as Wendell began to slow down a little bit.
Every Night Is Saturday Night Page 25
