Chris Scott

The Truth as I Know It
By: Stacie Huckeba
Iconic Memphis musician, Chris Scott hit the scene in the early 90’s as the front man for the cult phenomenon, Son of Slam. At the height of their calling, the band took rock n roll to completely different level. Son of Slam pre-dated the grunge movement but still spit in the face of pretty boy glam bands. They found legions of loyal fans in cities throughout the South and the Midwest, but their fleet of faithful followers also included some heavy hitters from within the industry. While out in support of Appetite for Destruction, Guns-n-Roses stumbled onto the band for two of the wildest nights Memphis has ever seen. And to this day there is talk of bands throughout Seattle, like Soundgarden, who while still very underground, carried around copies of Son of Slam’s EP, sighting them as inspiration for what went on to be one of the biggest movements in music history.
The band was rock in its purist form: loud, obtrusive, and furious. There was no fear for Son of Slam. Along with racism, poverty and politics, the band actually faced the topic of fear head-on in a pop shot aimed at the general public through a last minute addition to their 1994 release Trailer Parks, Politics & God, simply titled ‘Public’s a Buncha’ Ass.” The track is a 25 second rant in which Scott lambastes the subject of fear shouting “You want some mother fuckin’ fear? I got your goddamned fear bitch! Look this way, here it is!” The cut leads into “Holes”, a frank and angry look into the death of Scott’s father, taken from his own fear and the emptiness left in him from the finality of the loss.
Scott’s was infamous for his feral stage presence which was only upstaged by his offstage antics. Rumors abounded regarding the untamed singer’s life. There was debate of Satanism, vampirism and general debauchery. Tales spread far and wide of his wild and uncontrolled behavior, including a story where the singer once pulled a sawed off shotgun on Miles Copeland; the world famous manager of the Police. And Scott was the first to add fuel to the fire with his late night carousing, drinking and drug use. But when asked point blank about the accusations, he is said to have just laughed a sinister laugh and walked away, neither confirming nor denying any of it. He became an enigma, a living legend and the music industry began to take notice. But just as major success seemed eminent, the band dismembered and Scott took a surprise turn, forming the Alt/Country/Rock band, The Mudflaps.
With Chris Scott at the helm and Eric Lewis, Son of Slam’s notorious guitar slinger, at his side, the two once again quickly climbed to the crème de la crème of the Memphis’ music scene. The Mudflaps also drew attention from major industry peers and their regular Sunday night set at Murphy’s became legendary for a packed house and celebrity guest appearances.
In contrast to the violent sounds of Son of Slam, the Mudflaps was an escape for Scott to settle back into his southern roots, drawing from the blend of Country and Blues ancestry of his native Tate County Mississippi home. The band toyed with audiences on raucous hits like ‘Woke up Dead” where Scott feeds on the notorious reputation surrounding his previous band; “Woke up dead in a hotel room, fifteen thousand dollars can’t be spent…. I drink wine and whisky to cut the cocaine down”. More mainstream country with bluegrass influenced songs like “It Ain’t Heaven” dealt with the dangers of being on the road while maintaining a relationship back home. Bleeding songs that struggled with broken hearts, broken dreams and broken religion like “Got to be Good to Your Man,” “747,” “Tears are Gonna Fall” and “Me & Jesus” infiltrated audiences with their honest and sometimes painful reflections on real life. Once again, just as fame seemed like the next logical step for the band, the singer songwriter disbanded the Mudflaps and quietly left the stage; only to play a few select shows at low key functions and local music venues.
Over the past few years, Scott has been operating a recording studio in Midtown Memphis called “Yella Brick Studios”. Maintaining the same mystery that has always followed him, the studio is located in a modest yellow house, unmarked by signage of any kind. The house may be unassuming, but the clientele is discerning. He has worked with bands that run the gamut of genre’s and fame. Southern Rock bands like Lucero have come to him for help with special projects like “City Mouse” and "Tell Me What It Takes" for the television show One Tree Hill, while pop acts have come to him for help in adding an edge to their sound. Local up & comers are regular clients to the studio, as are bands that have come from as far as Canada to buy for time with the Memphis legend.
Chris Scott is not one to stay out of the public eye for long though and through a one off, last minute decision in June of 2007. He called up his old friend Eric Lewis and his old friends at Murphy’s and put the Mudflaps back on the stage again. Not surprisingly, the show was a standing room only appearance with fans coming from as far as Texas to witness the reunion. The audience was not disappointed as the Scott and Lewis duo was as powerful and captivating as always. Since then, he has been adding final touches to the songs that he has been cataloguing over the past decade as well as penning new work. The two took a date at the Mucklewain Festival in Pinewood Tennessee in September and played another full band show in Memphis at the Buccaneer Lounge in October, which again proved to be an over capacity, sell out crowd. Currently, he is in the studio with Eric Lewis, working on a new record.
And just like that, Chris Scott is back on the scene. What roads the Mudflaps will take or where his career as a solo act will lead yet, no-one really knows. What is for certain though is that the old songs are still as good as they ever were and the new songs are full of the same lyrical genius that has always captivated his audiences. And like fine wine, his sound has aged beautifully. It’s exactly what you crave from someone whose Southern roots are as thick as the delta dirt is black and whose reputation precedes him like a freight train to a catastrophic wreck. It’s like liquid gold spilling over broken glass; it’s thick, rich and cuts you to the bone. Once again Chris Scott is poised to take over the world and the only thing anyone can expect is the unexpected.