Portrait of Larry “Ratso” Sloman by William Beaucardet.
What most people dream about, Larry “Ratso” Sloman makes happen. Anyone who’s read Ratso’s first book, 1978’s On The Road With Bob Dylan, has witnessed his epic persistence. A young Rolling Stone reporter in ‘75, he took an invitation from a fueled Bob Dylan to join the tour being convened and he held Dylan to his word. Repeatedly treated as Slo-man on the totem pole by Rolling Thunder Revue functionaries and dubbed “Ratso” by Joan Baez for his slovenly, streetwise demeanor, he refused to give up, eventually melting down in a motel lobby in one of the best scenes in Renaldo and Clara, issuing the righteous demand of “Access! I want access!”
Access he was given and access he has to this day.
I read On The Road With Bob Dylan close to its pub date in one furious sitting, completely unaware of who this guy Sloman was, but blown away by his chutzpah and ability to describe what it was like to hang with Bob better than any scribe before him. Within a couple weeks of reading it, my pal Kinky Friedman brought an entourage to West Village dive bar Bells Of Hell to see my band Slewfoot. I met Larry Sloman in that crew and a friendship of 41 years followed.
We went on to edit the National Lampoon together with my brother Andy Simmons in the1980s and have had more adventures than there is room here to recount. (Hey Rats—remember The Babysitter at Baratta’s house in the Hamptons?) In addition to writing bestsellers with Howard Stern, Abbie Hoffman and Houdini biographies, acting/writing/producing movies and sundry side activities like managing strongman Dennis Rogers, the snappy-dressing Ratso decided he wanted to be a rock star.
And so he is.
At age 70, he’s released his debut album, the appropriately titled Stubborn Heart (Lucky Number), and it’s a dark nocturnal emission—an atmospheric, minor-chord tone poem broken up into nine songs, including co-writes with John Cale. It’s beautifully produced by Vincent Cacchione of Brooklyn band Caged Animals, with guest shots by buddies Nick Cave, Warren Ellis of the Bad Seeds, Leonard Cohen’s collaborator Sharon Robinson and Lebanese chirp Yasmine Hamdan, among others. (Interesting footnote: Cave’s song “Dig, Lazarus, Dig!!!” was inspired by Ratso’s Houdini bio.) And then there’s his intriguing voice – a talk/sing hybrid strongly reminiscent of Cohen and Dylan – two fellow Jewish mavericks also known for ensuring that miraculous artistry magically materializes.
Like Dylan, like Cohen, Ratso has the poet’s touch. In Cale co-write “Dying On The Vine” (first heard on John’s 1985 album Artificial Intelligence), Ratboy intones: “And I was thinking about my mother/I was thinking about what’s mine/I was living like a Hollywood/But I was dying on the vine.” Note the addition of “a” before the noun “Hollywood.” It’s a savvy – and mysterious—lyrical decision that kicks open doors of potential meaning that would’ve been locked shut had it not been present. What is “a Hollywood”? I don’t know, but it’s a gift to be forced to think about it. And then there’s the Rat-wit. In the Cave duet “Our Lady Of Light,” he sings of the heroine: “She’ll dance round your shyness, poke fun at your gloom/But you can’t help but smile as she gooses the groom.”
June 12 will see the release of Rolling Thunder Revue: A Bob Dylan Story By Martin Scorsese, the latter’s documentary of that fabled tour. Naturally, Ratso is said to be a key talking head in the film. (I know because it’s Ratso who says it.) Fittingly, Stubborn Heart ends with an audacious homage to the man who kickstartled Ratso’s career. His cover of “Sad Eyed Lady Of The Lowlands” works because, like everything he does, he puts a twist on it, spicing up the proceedings by having several sad-eyed lady singers tackle each chorus, culminating with Ruby Friedman emitting the lungpower of a ferocious and fiery tigress.
As we aging freaks become more reliant on prostate medication (something my medical advisor Dr. Sloman keeps me up on), we will need our hearts to be even more stubborn than in our demanding youth, to meet the injustices of aging and to continue to foster creativity as our bodies fail. Ratso has lit one path with his decision to make a record at this point in his life. He’s an inspiration to each individual to decide if and how they’ll follow through for themselves.
“Our Lady of Light” with Nick Cave.
More after the jump…
