PHILlip HARRIS

The whole thing with me and Nick was, and this is the part that he would hate but, he really was our hero. I mean, he wrote these songs, he had a band, or you’re in the band with him, and he’s a fuckin’ cool guy. Women liked him, he had a distinctive sense of style, he was smart, and he wasn’t vain.  He was your friend. He was always your friend. As quiet a guy as Nick was, he knew that his attention was important to people and he made sure to use it in a positive way. Much more often than you’d think.  Even though Nick would reject the hero role, it is essentially the mantle he assumed. Because ya know, he was not an entertainer.  It was never, “Come see my band cuz we’re super entertaining— we can do shots!”  The whole Dylan thing. Nick was an artist with an “A.” He embraced that.  But that’s a lot to take on.  

All he ever wanted was for somebody like Robyn Hitchcock or Paul K. to hear one of his records and think it was good. 

And the women he loved—amazing, beautiful creative women. When he married Gina it was such a relief.  Because I thought he’s figured it out, this is it.  This is not something you wait on, this is something you put energy into because it’s good.  

Even when he wasn’t working on music, he was working.  What he was listening to was the work at the time.  And I know that he really struggled with the improvisational thing.  It was his heaven and hell—his church vs. rock and roll. Improvised music vs. songwriting.  That was a real struggle with him, cuz I think it was spiritual.  That spiritual connection was important to him.  And he didn’t feel that same way playing rock music. I think he was always trying to work that out.  I think he wanted it to save him, ya know? I dunno. We all want something to save us and ain’t nothing gonna. I don’t know.