In Memory Um: Jamie Klimek, 1950-2024
On November 6th, Jamie Klimek passed away at 73. Jamie was a guitarist, singer, and songwriter in the bands Mirrors and The Styrenes and one of the originators of protopunk in Cleveland. Mirrors first started in the early 70s and were one of the first wave of bands that could be called “punk” in Cleveland (and maybe the world), along with contemporaries like the electric eels and Rocket From The Tombs. Jamie was already semi-known in the music scene by the time Mirrors started for attending (and taping) The Velvet Underground’s 1968 shows at La Cave. In 1975, some of Mirrors morphed into The Styrenes (also known as Poli Styrene Jass Band, Styrene Money, The George Money Band, etc.) and continued into the 80s. By the end of that decade, a reformed Mirrors were also playing shows and released an album, “Another Nail In The Coffin,” in 1991. Appearances from the group were limited after that, but Jamie put together a new lineup of Mirrors in 2008 that played several shows through 2017.
At the core of Mirrors’ sound was The Velvet Underground meets The Troggs, but at the same time it had its own unique twist, sometimes psychedelic, sometimes pop, sometimes both, that made Mirrors sound like both and neither. Nobody had Jamie’s guitar playing--though many since have tried--nor his occasionally haunting, occasionally ridiculous vocals, nor his lyrics, which could be anything from introspective musings to some of the most lascivious things ever written.
I met Jamie when I was 13, right around the time that Mirrors were the local headliner at Studio-A-Rama. Their performance that night still ranks as one of the best shows I’ve ever seen: it was a mix of the most recent lineup (Tom Fallon, Dave Franduto, Tom Madej) and the original group (Craig Bell, Jim Crook, Paul Marotta) with Jamie front and center. Yes, that is seven people onstage, four of them on guitar (a total of 30 strings, since Tom was playing a 12-string). It was fantastic. I did a lengthy interview with Jamie around this time, which will someday see the light of day. In addition to lending me his copies of some of his own releases so I could burn them to my computer (for research purposes, of course) he also gave me a stack of other CDs he thought I needed to listen to: The Troggs, Syd Barrett, “A Woofer In Tweeter’s Clothing,” almost every Kinks album (which he annotated in Sharpie right on the CD booklets so I knew which tracks to look out for, including three marked with three stars for “so good you can only listen occasionally lest your head explode”: “Shangri-La,” “Days,” and “Sweet Lady Genevieve”), and, mysteriously enough, two reunion albums The Knack did in 90s/early 2000s (Jamie wasn’t a fan of their initial run, but he loved “Serious Fun” and “Normal As The Next Guy” for whatever reason. Jamie also may have been the world’s biggest Shoes fan, so perhaps that explains it.). He called a week later to ask if I’d listened to any of it and was very pleased that I said I was especially digging “The Madcap Laughs.”
When Jamie started getting back into working on an album that Mirrors recorded several years prior and never quite finished, I accompanied him to a lot of the mixing sessions. I suppose Jamie thought it was an experience that would teach me something, or maybe that I’d just appreciate being out of the house. In any case, it was indeed very cool and educational— I even got to hang out on days that Dave Franduto and Tom Fallon came by to do overdubs. I sat with Jamie and Tom in the studio while they recorded “You And I Saw” from start to finish. The first time one of my bands played live in front of people, Jamie was there. I half-jokingly asked if he’d want to come up and play guitar on a song and he said, “I’ve only ever played guitar with four bands: Mirrors, The Styrenes, electric eels, and the Pagans, and I think that’s pretty good. I can’t afford to mess that record up.” He came up to me afterwards while I was putting my stuff away and grabbed my setlist off the ground, then counted to a certain song. “Aha! I’ll be telling Fallon that you ripped him off on this one!”
Maybe I was subtle enough about it at that particular show, but Jamie’s been one of the guitarists I’ve tried to rip off the most over the years, up there with Jay Reatard, Neil Young, and, yes, Tom Fallon. Listen to “I Think I’m Falling” or “I Saw You” and tell me you wouldn’t wanna play guitar like that. He was great. I saw Mirrors at every show they played after that Studio-A-Rama show and whether it was a great show (a Lou Reed tribute night where Jamie mercilessly disparaged The New Lou Reeds in between songs for dropping off the bill last minute) or a weird show (opening for Guided By Voices for a packed house full of apathetic alcoholics who were getting bored waiting for Bob to come out), he was always on. He did what he wanted— overstaying his welcome at the GBV show simply to piss off their fans or, upon being told to “play anything but sevenths” when The Styrenes recorded “Jetsam,” spent the entire 19-minute runtime of the song playing only sevenths— and the music was better for it.
Many would say, and Jamie would probably not argue, that he could be described as “curmudgeonly” or “difficult.” But he was also very smart, incredibly funny (in ways both intentional and not— his ever-changing voicemail messages; or, as a former neighbor recalled, being “probably the only person to ever have the cops called on them for listening to the Carpenters too loud”), and a really kind-hearted person underneath it all (I had a memory the other day of him driving me to class at Tri-C once for some reason— I’m sure he relished the opportunity to tell me exactly what he did and didn’t like about “Younger Than Yesterday” by The Byrds, which we were listening to in the car). I don’t know much about movies from the 1930s or baseball, but I’m told that Jamie was one of the best people to talk to about both of those. On the most recent Mirrors album (which, like that interview, will someday see the light of day), there’s a song called “In Memory Of.” Jamie told me that it was supposed to be called “In Memory Um” (pronounced “memoriam”) but that he knew nobody would say it right and so he changed it. In Mike Hudson’s “All The Wrong People Are Dying” (which Jamie wrote the incredible music for), Jamie (under the barely disguised name “Jimmy Climax”) is the one who tells Mike the title phrase upon hearing of his brother’s death. It was true then and it’s true now. See you, Jamie, and thank you.
There will be a memorial for Jamie Klimek at the Beachland Ballroom on the afternoon of January 5, 2025.