A Year Before the End

Justin Townes Earle, a Biography and a Night in Christchurch

Live at Blue Smoke , Ōtautahi

August 2019. Justin Townes Earle, promoting what would be his last album The Saint of Lost Causes, stood alone on stage in Ōtautahi Christchurch, midway through a set that would barely stretch beyond an hour. The songs were magnificent, but something felt off.

Halfway through the show, a blister opened on one of the fingers of his right hand that were crucial for his distinctive percussive fingerpicking style. Without hesitation, Earle pulled out a lighter and announced that any wound like this needed to be cauterised. He held the flame against his skin. The sheer nonchalence of it all suggested this wasn't the first time.

Then came the encore. Earle returned shirtless to perform The Replacements' "I Can't Wait", a song that would later take on even greater significance after reading Jonathan Bernstein's biography What Do You Do When You're Lonesome. Bernstein describes it as a song that held a special significance for Justin, a portrait of stumbling and addiction that resisted judgement and cliché. It often became the final song of his concerts.

Watching him that night, he seemed carefree, funny, charismatic and somehow unravelling all at once.

A year later, when news filtered through that Justin Townes Earle had died from an overdose of cocaine laced with fentanyl at the age of 38, those images came flooding back.

During the Covid lockdowns, I often found myself tuning into fellow American indie-folk artist Joe Pug's regular livestreams which would land around midday Monday NZ time. The news of Justin's death arrived at the same time and Pug spoke briefly about the years they'd spent touring together and the force of Justin's personality. He became visibly upset and ended the stream early.

The author of What Do You Do When You're Lonesome is Jonathan Bernstein, a senior writer and editor associated with Rolling Stone who spent years researching Justin's life. The book was written with the cooperation of Justin's estate (he was estranged at the time of his death from his wife and young daughter) and has been widely praised for being compassionate without becoming sentimental. Critics have highlighted Bernstein's refusal to reduce Justin's life to either addiction or his relationship with Steve Earle.

Father & Son

Justin was born into mythology before he had a chance to become a person.

Named after Townes Van Zandt. Son of Steve Earle. Growing up amidst addiction, absence and instability. Bernstein's biography repeatedly returns to the idea that Justin inherited not just a name but an entire narrative that was waiting to swallow him. Yet the author avoids simple determinism and doesn't reduce Justin to being merely "Steve Earle's son."

The first time I saw Justin Townes Earle was when he opened for Wilco around 2009 or 2010. To be honest, I wasn't particularly interested. I assumed he was another musician benefiting from a famous surname. However despite only catching

the final couple of songs that was enough.

What immediately struck me was how little he sounded like Steve Earle.

The voice, the guitar style, the songwriting, even the stage presence all pointed somewhere else entirely. Here was somebody drawing from country blues, Memphis soul, old-time music and gospel while somehow making it sound contemporary.

One thing often overlooked is just how extraordinary a guitarist he was.

Bernstein discusses Justin's right-hand technique and notes from people who knew him that it came partly from family musical traditions in Kentucky. Many fans described him as sounding like "a whole band in one hand."

Harlem River Blues

If you ever hear just one Justin Townes Earle album, make it Harlem River Blues, a glorious mix of roots music, gospel-infused storytelling and modern-day folk songs steeped in tradition. Musically, "MTA", for example, could have been written in the 1930s, yet it tells the story of working for New York's Metropolitan Transit Authority in contemporary times.

"It’s cold in the tunnels today

Working for the MTA."

The New York in which Earle was living at the time infuses the album, just as other songs draw inspiration from Chicago, Nashville and even New Zealand ("Christchurch Woman" remains a staple of my own set lists).

As Jonathan Bernstein notes, Harlem River Blues represented the commercial and critical high point of Earle's career, aided by a strong promotional push from his record company and years of compelling live performances. Yet one of the recurring themes throughout the biography is Earle's tendency to derail his own momentum, repeatedly succumbing to the addictions and erratic behaviour that had shadowed him for much of his life.

The Legacy

Over eight albums, Justin Townes Earle built an enviable catalogue, marked by some of the most heartbreaking ballads in modern Americana. Many were infused by the circumstances of his upbringing: strained relationships with both parents, addiction, and a trail of broken romances.

If you're looking for an introduction to his troubled yet deeply compassionate world, start with:

• "Kids In The Street"

• "A Place To Land"

• "White Gardenias"

• "Won't Be The Last Time

Justin Townes Earle died far too young, leaving behind a catalogue that should have continued to grow for decades. A year before the end, I watched him perform in Christchurch. Today, every time I play "Christchurch Woman", I'm reminded that the songs remain. For all the sadness contained within Jonathan Bernstein's biography, and be warned, it can be a harrowing read,that is ultimately what survives: the music.

#justintownesearle #steveearle #harlemriverblues #kidsinthestreet #christchurchwoman #therealamericana #thesaintoflostcauses