Don Waller Legacy Shindig
Donation protected
On Thursday, November 17, 2016, Don Waller sadly departed this mortal plane. If you were to read a straight-up obit for Don, it would make note of his long history in the L.A. music scene, the co-creation of the scene-spawning ‘zine Back Door Man, his time in the Imperial Dogs (whose song “This Ain’t the Summer of Love” was made famous by Blue Oyster Cult). It would note the decades spent writing about music, his encyclopedic knowledge of rock and soul, and the publication of his lauded ’85 book The Motown Story. There might even be mention of his talent as a DJ under the name Agent Double-O-Soul. But it would only scratch the surface of who Don was and what he meant to the people who knew him. Their words describe him best:
The purple jacket and the squint-eyed, side-cocked, finger-pointed crack up will be missed my brother.
The go-to guy for soul music information. You talk to Don, you learn something ... .
He was the hardest-hustling freelancer in the rock-writing bizness.
If you didn’t know about Don Waller before, the gist of it is that the man made a major, major contribution to what you know and think about pop and rock and American roots music; if you’re a fan of any of the above-mentioned stuff, Don’s DNA is inside you, whether you knew him or not.
Don was a real pop music scholar who just plain knew what he was talking about and, better yet, felt what he was talking about, felt it heatedly, feverishly, even. He didn’t just love music, he really kind of was music. Funny mofo, too.
Waller’s fiery, gritty authority is not something that drops like apples from trees, not anymore, anyway. That, and the way he’d keep up the chatter as he slipped a perfectly rolled jay into my shirt pocket as we edited his stuff together — well, that made me love the guy very much.
Don was always very amusing, at the same time edifying as hell — and he was, by the way, always dressed to the nines and looking real, real sharp.
Don Waller colorized my life. Yours, too.
In lengthy phone conversations, club show parking-lot debriefs and love fests in my backyard parties, I’ve looked up to him, tried to impress him, disagreed with him, and got inspired, influenced and moved by his work, his presence and, yes (he'd hate me for saying this), his humanity.
Nobody made a mixtape like Don Waller.
A treasure, truly one of a kind, with an unaffected swagger and a scowl that could suddenly break into the biggest smile you’ve ever seen.
Don had a relentless, insightful ear and eye, and he never settled for the routine.
A true believer in the power of rock ’n’ soul, and a great friend to so many.
Sometimes you had to steel yourself and take a deep breath before starting a conversation with Don. He kind of scared me at first. You ask a question and receive a 12-minute answer. It’s because he cared about you enough to want to explain.
He was smart, he had a point of view, and he didn’t suffer fools at all, let alone lightly.
Don Waller is way cool. [Etta James]
A master stylist who could make words dance.
I remember getting schooled on how to listen to Chic (“It’s a rhythm section, listen to ’em like Booker T & the MGs”) back around 1979-80 and going fuck me, he’s right.
The thing I’ll miss most about Don is the way you’d come away from every conversation with him learning something new. It could be some forgotten garage band — which would end up a history of the scene they were part of — the correct way to grill prawns, or a disputation on the way unions were treated in Los Angeles.
When I was 15 years old, I picked up The Motown Story. The first pages of that book changed everything for me. Rewrote the rules. Made everyone who DIDN’T write about music the way Don did instantly irrelevant.
That cantankerous bastard was everything his words promised on the page.
On Sunday, January 29, at The Short Stop in Echo Park, those of us who have been touched by his words, his work, and his deeds will gather to remember him and (of course) stomp, shout, and work it on out! From 6 p.m. to 10 p.m., guest DJs — his closest friends among them — will be pulling from Don’s extensive and well-curated collection of 45s and doing their best to honor his talent behind the turntables.
Please help us send him off in style by making a donation here to pay for drinks, food, music, and other related costs to avoid passing the burden on to his loved ones.
Don Waller Legacy Shindig — food, drink, dancing, and memories of Don.
Sunday, January 29
6-10 p.m.
The Short Stop bar (over 21 only)
1455 Sunset Blvd.
Los Angeles, CA
90026
The purple jacket and the squint-eyed, side-cocked, finger-pointed crack up will be missed my brother.
The go-to guy for soul music information. You talk to Don, you learn something ... .
He was the hardest-hustling freelancer in the rock-writing bizness.
If you didn’t know about Don Waller before, the gist of it is that the man made a major, major contribution to what you know and think about pop and rock and American roots music; if you’re a fan of any of the above-mentioned stuff, Don’s DNA is inside you, whether you knew him or not.
Don was a real pop music scholar who just plain knew what he was talking about and, better yet, felt what he was talking about, felt it heatedly, feverishly, even. He didn’t just love music, he really kind of was music. Funny mofo, too.
Waller’s fiery, gritty authority is not something that drops like apples from trees, not anymore, anyway. That, and the way he’d keep up the chatter as he slipped a perfectly rolled jay into my shirt pocket as we edited his stuff together — well, that made me love the guy very much.
Don was always very amusing, at the same time edifying as hell — and he was, by the way, always dressed to the nines and looking real, real sharp.
Don Waller colorized my life. Yours, too.
In lengthy phone conversations, club show parking-lot debriefs and love fests in my backyard parties, I’ve looked up to him, tried to impress him, disagreed with him, and got inspired, influenced and moved by his work, his presence and, yes (he'd hate me for saying this), his humanity.
Nobody made a mixtape like Don Waller.
A treasure, truly one of a kind, with an unaffected swagger and a scowl that could suddenly break into the biggest smile you’ve ever seen.
Don had a relentless, insightful ear and eye, and he never settled for the routine.
A true believer in the power of rock ’n’ soul, and a great friend to so many.
Sometimes you had to steel yourself and take a deep breath before starting a conversation with Don. He kind of scared me at first. You ask a question and receive a 12-minute answer. It’s because he cared about you enough to want to explain.
He was smart, he had a point of view, and he didn’t suffer fools at all, let alone lightly.
Don Waller is way cool. [Etta James]
A master stylist who could make words dance.
I remember getting schooled on how to listen to Chic (“It’s a rhythm section, listen to ’em like Booker T & the MGs”) back around 1979-80 and going fuck me, he’s right.
The thing I’ll miss most about Don is the way you’d come away from every conversation with him learning something new. It could be some forgotten garage band — which would end up a history of the scene they were part of — the correct way to grill prawns, or a disputation on the way unions were treated in Los Angeles.
When I was 15 years old, I picked up The Motown Story. The first pages of that book changed everything for me. Rewrote the rules. Made everyone who DIDN’T write about music the way Don did instantly irrelevant.
That cantankerous bastard was everything his words promised on the page.
On Sunday, January 29, at The Short Stop in Echo Park, those of us who have been touched by his words, his work, and his deeds will gather to remember him and (of course) stomp, shout, and work it on out! From 6 p.m. to 10 p.m., guest DJs — his closest friends among them — will be pulling from Don’s extensive and well-curated collection of 45s and doing their best to honor his talent behind the turntables.
Please help us send him off in style by making a donation here to pay for drinks, food, music, and other related costs to avoid passing the burden on to his loved ones.
Don Waller Legacy Shindig — food, drink, dancing, and memories of Don.
Sunday, January 29
6-10 p.m.
The Short Stop bar (over 21 only)
1455 Sunset Blvd.
Los Angeles, CA
90026
Organizer
natalie nichols
Organizer
Los Angeles, CA