COPPER

A PS Audio Publication

Issue 162 • Free Online Magazine

Issue 162 Off the Charts

Warren Zevon: Exceptional Boy

Warren Zevon: Exceptional Boy

Warren Zevon could never have been a standard, mainstream rock star. His life started out with too many extraordinary elements to allow him to be mainstream. He was fated to be exceptional, and he certainly fulfilled that destiny.

Son of a Russian-Jewish immigrant who became a bookie for the mob in Los Angeles, Zevon (born in 1947) took music lessons with the great Igor Stravinsky himself. When his parents divorced, the 16-year-old Zevon dropped out of high school and headed east to become a folkie in New York City.

To make ends meet, Zevon wrote songs for other people, including a few for The Turtles and one for the soundtrack of the film Midnight Cowboy, which was sung by Leslie Miller. He also recorded a couple of singles as part of the duo lyme and cebelle with Violet Santangelo. One of their songs, “Follow Me,” had decent sales, but that was it.

Zevon’s solo recording career started with appropriate strangeness: he was discovered in 1969 by Kim Fowley, an esoteric producer determined to maintain cult status in the music industry by recording cutting-edge acts that no one else was paying attention to. Sadly for Zevon, no one paid attention to his debut, Wanted Dead or Alive, either.

So, he turned his efforts back to practical endeavors, selling more songs and touring as the music director and keyboardist for the Everly Brothers. By the mid-1970s he had befriended and was rooming with Lindsey Buckingham and Stevie Nicks. He also became close with Jackson Browne, who offered to produce Zevon’s first major-label album.

His growing circle of important music friends were also conscripted to play on Warren Zevon, which was released on Asylum Records in 1976 and reached the low end of the Billboard 200. Among the guests, besides the Fleetwood Mac gang and Bonnie Raitt, was a singer who turned out to be one of Zevon’s biggest fans. Linda Ronstadt eventually made her own recordings of many of Zevon’s songs.

“Desperados Under the Eaves” is a good introduction to Zevon’s musical and poetic style, as well as his signature delivery. First, there’s the sophisticated harmony of the string arrangement. Then there’s the subtle sarcasm of the lyrics, camouflaged in lush chord progressions usually associated with more sentimental songs. And then there’s the joyous weirdness of it all: note the 16 bars of Zevon humming like an air conditioner.

 

Browne stayed on as producer, assisted by guitarist Waddy Wachtel, for Zevon’s second Asylum album, Excitable Boy, in 1978. On these tracks, Zevon doubles down on his dark quirkiness on songs like the album’s big hit, “Werewolves of London.” But even more interesting are the ingenious ramblings of a man who sees madness everywhere he looks. Often these have political backdrops, like “Veracruz” and “Roland the Headless Thompson Gunner.”

The album opens with. “When Johnny Strikes Up the Band.” It is lyrically simple and vague, but Zevon’s impassioned delivery, plus the contributions of session greats Russ Kunkel on drums and Danny Kortchmar on percussion, and a couple of terrific guitar riffs by Wachtel, make this a little-known 1970s rock gem.

 

Bad Luck Streak in Dancing School came out in 1980, boasting a quartet of singles that included Zevon’s cover of the Yardbirds’ “A Certain Girl,” originally written by Allen Toussaint and recorded by Ernie K-Doe. That was the only one of the record’s singles to chart. This fourth studio album also marked a tentative move to Elektra Records.

As usual, the studio was full of big names offering their services, including Browne, Ronstadt, Glenn Frey, and Don Henley. Guitarist Joe Walsh enriches the march-like rhythm and staid melody of “Jeannie Needs a Shooter” by playing counterpoint against Zevon’s voice.

 

Continuing his pattern of releasing albums every other year, Zevon made The Envoy in 1982, giving Asylum another chance. Although one single, “Let Nothing Come Between You,” did well, the album’s sales were poor. Zevon blamed that failure on the label’s lack of commitment to marketing, but it probably also reflected the reality of the American music-buying public: Zevon’s music and lyrics were always too hip for the room and too idiosyncratic for the masses.

On this album Zevon moves into harder rock territory. The Envoy’s title track, a grimly cynical commentary on war in the Middle East, shakes with power chords played by three different guitarists, including Zevon himself, and the rattling drums of Toto’s Jeff Porcaro.

 

Sadly, the low sales of The Envoy hit Zevon hard, and the next few years found him battling his psychological demons. His previous issues with drugs and alcohol reemerged, and his relationship ended with his fiancée before she could become his second wife. After a round of rehab, Zevon took a break from recording, only playing occasional live shows. His only brief foray into recording was one single for the band Hindu Love God, which included Zevon and three members of R.E.M.: guitarist Peter Buck, bassist Mike Mills, and drummer Bill Berry.

In 1987, Zevon was ready to record Sentimental Hygiene, this time on Virgin Records. Buck, Mills, and Berry all played on the album. (At the same time, they laid down some tracks as the Hindu Love Gods, which would be released in 1990.) Michael Stipe sang backup on one track, and Bob Dylan dropped in to play harmonica. A Zevon recording session continued to be an A-list magnet. But this album and the next, Transverse City, did not sell well, so Virgin ended Zevon’s contract.

The rhythm and melody of “Splendid Isolation” are reminiscent of Tom Petty, even if the lyrics are more urban-focused and philosophical than Petty’s usual output. This should be the official anthem of introverts everywhere. (That’s Zevon on harmonica, by the way.)

 

After leaving Virgin, Zevon landed at the newly-founded label Giant Records. From his first album there, Mr. Bad Example (1991), the track “Things to Do in Denver When You’re Dead” inspired a film by Gary Fleder.

The next decade saw Zevon soldier on despite largely poor sales and having to tour in the humblest of circumstances, often unable to afford a band. But he seemed to revel in the social side of music-making: besides his impressive list of musician friends, he also enjoyed the company of some of America’s most interesting writers who also happened to play music. Several of them – Hunter S. Thompson, Amy Tan, and Carl Hiassen among others – played with Zevon at book fairs in a pickup band called the Rock Bottom Remainders. They even contributed lyrics to some of his songs.

Zevon’s final album was The Wind, recorded in 2002 while his body was being ravaged by mesothelioma. He very publicly made the decision not to pursue treatments that would weaken him so that he could have the strength to write and play for as much of his remaining time as possible. Knowing he was at the end, all his usual buddies showed up to sing on that last record, and longtime fan David Letterman devoted an entire hour of The Late Show to Zevon, who chatted with him and performed.

Zevon died in 2003 at the age of 56. It’s fitting to close with this wistful song from that last album, “Keep Me in Your Heart”:

More from Issue 162

View All Articles in Issue 162

Search Copper Magazine

#227 Seth Lewis Gets in the Groove With Take a Look Around: a Tribute to the Meters by Frank Doris Feb 02, 2026 #227 Passport to Sound: May Anwar’s Audio Learning Experience for Young People by Frank Doris Feb 02, 2026 #227 Conjectures on Cosmic Consciousness by B. Jan Montana Feb 02, 2026 #227 The Big Takeover Turns 45 by Wayne Robins Feb 02, 2026 #227 Music and Chocolate: On the Sensory Connection by Joe Caplan Feb 02, 2026 #227 Singer/Songwriter Chris Berardo: Getting Wilder All the Time by Ray Chelstowski Feb 02, 2026 #227 The Earliest Stars of Country Music, Part One by Jeff Weiner Feb 02, 2026 #227 The Vinyl Beat Goes Down to Tijuana (By Way of Los Angeles), Part Two by Rudy Radelic Feb 02, 2026 #227 How to Play in a Rock Band, 20: On the Road With Blood, Sweat & Tears’ Guitarist Gabe Cummins by Frank Doris Feb 02, 2026 #227 From The Audiophile’s Guide: Audio Specs and Measuring by Paul McGowan Feb 02, 2026 #227 Our Brain is Always Listening by Peter Trübner Feb 02, 2026 #227 PS Audio in the News by PS Audio Staff Feb 02, 2026 #227 The Listening Chair: Sleek Style and Sound From the Luxman L3 by Howard Kneller Feb 02, 2026 #227 The Los Angeles and Orange County Audio Society Celebrates Its 32nd Anniversary, Honoring David and Sheryl Lee Wilson and Bernie Grundman by Harris Fogel Feb 02, 2026 #227 Back to My Reel-to-Reel Roots, Part 26: Half Full – Not Half Empty, Redux by Ken Kessler Feb 02, 2026 #227 That's What Puzzles Us... by Frank Doris Feb 02, 2026 #227 Record-Breaking by Peter Xeni Feb 02, 2026 #227 The Long and Winding Road by B. Jan Montana Feb 02, 2026 #226 JJ Murphy’s Sleep Paralysis is a Genre-Bending Musical Journey Through Jazz, Fusion and More by Frank Doris Jan 05, 2026 #226 Stewardship by Consent by B. Jan Montana Jan 05, 2026 #226 Food, Music, and Sensory Experience: An Interview With Professor Jonathan Zearfoss of the Culinary Institute of America by Joe Caplan Jan 05, 2026 #226 Studio Confidential: A Who’s Who of Recording Engineers Tell Their Stories by Frank Doris Jan 05, 2026 #226 Pilot Radio is Reborn, 50 Years Later: Talking With CEO Barak Epstein by Frank Doris Jan 05, 2026 #226 The Vinyl Beat Goes Down to Tijuana (By Way of Los Angeles), Part One by Rudy Radelic Jan 05, 2026 #226 Capital Audiofest 2025: Must-See Stereo, Part Two by Frank Doris Jan 05, 2026 #226 My Morning Jacket’s Carl Broemel and Tyler Ramsey Collaborate on Their Acoustic Guitar Album, Celestun by Ray Chelstowski Jan 05, 2026 #226 The People Who Make Audio Happen: CanJam SoCal 2025, Part Two by Harris Fogel Jan 05, 2026 #226 How to Play in a Rock Band, 19: Touring Can Make You Crazy, Part One by Frank Doris Jan 05, 2026 #226 Linda Ronstadt Goes Bigger by Wayne Robins Jan 05, 2026 #226 From The Audiophile’s Guide: Active Room Correction and Digital Signal Processing by Paul McGowan Jan 05, 2026 #226 PS Audio in the News by Frank Doris Jan 05, 2026 #226 Back to My Reel-to-Reel Roots, Part 25: Half-Full, Not Empty by Ken Kessler Jan 05, 2026 #226 Happy New Year! by Frank Doris Jan 05, 2026 #226 Turn It Down! by Peter Xeni Jan 05, 2026 #226 Ghost Riders by James Schrimpf Jan 05, 2026 #226 A Factory Tour of Audio Manufacturer German Physiks by Markus "Marsu" Manthey Jan 04, 2026 #225 Capital Audiofest 2025: Must-See Stereo, Part One by Frank Doris Dec 01, 2025 #225 Otis Taylor and the Electrics Delivers a Powerful Set of Hypnotic Modern Blues by Frank Doris Dec 01, 2025 #225 A Christmas Miracle by B. Jan Montana Dec 01, 2025 #225 T.H.E. Show New York 2025, Part Two: Plenty to See, Hear, and Enjoy by Frank Doris Dec 01, 2025 #225 Underappreciated Artists, Part One: Martin Briley by Rich Isaacs Dec 01, 2025 #225 Rock and Roll is Here to Stay by Wayne Robins Dec 01, 2025 #225 A Lifetime of Holiday Record (and CD) Listening by Rudy Radelic Dec 01, 2025 #225 Little Feat: Not Saying Goodbye, Not Yet by Ray Chelstowski Dec 01, 2025 #225 How to Play in a Rock Band, Part 18: Dealing With Burnout by Frank Doris Dec 01, 2025 #225 The People Who Make Audio Happen: CanJam SoCal 2025 by Harris Fogel Dec 01, 2025 #225 Chicago’s Sonic Sanctuaries: Four Hi‑Fi Listening Bars Channeling the Jazz‑Kissa Spirit by Olivier Meunier-Plante Dec 01, 2025

Warren Zevon: Exceptional Boy

Warren Zevon: Exceptional Boy

Warren Zevon could never have been a standard, mainstream rock star. His life started out with too many extraordinary elements to allow him to be mainstream. He was fated to be exceptional, and he certainly fulfilled that destiny.

Son of a Russian-Jewish immigrant who became a bookie for the mob in Los Angeles, Zevon (born in 1947) took music lessons with the great Igor Stravinsky himself. When his parents divorced, the 16-year-old Zevon dropped out of high school and headed east to become a folkie in New York City.

To make ends meet, Zevon wrote songs for other people, including a few for The Turtles and one for the soundtrack of the film Midnight Cowboy, which was sung by Leslie Miller. He also recorded a couple of singles as part of the duo lyme and cebelle with Violet Santangelo. One of their songs, “Follow Me,” had decent sales, but that was it.

Zevon’s solo recording career started with appropriate strangeness: he was discovered in 1969 by Kim Fowley, an esoteric producer determined to maintain cult status in the music industry by recording cutting-edge acts that no one else was paying attention to. Sadly for Zevon, no one paid attention to his debut, Wanted Dead or Alive, either.

So, he turned his efforts back to practical endeavors, selling more songs and touring as the music director and keyboardist for the Everly Brothers. By the mid-1970s he had befriended and was rooming with Lindsey Buckingham and Stevie Nicks. He also became close with Jackson Browne, who offered to produce Zevon’s first major-label album.

His growing circle of important music friends were also conscripted to play on Warren Zevon, which was released on Asylum Records in 1976 and reached the low end of the Billboard 200. Among the guests, besides the Fleetwood Mac gang and Bonnie Raitt, was a singer who turned out to be one of Zevon’s biggest fans. Linda Ronstadt eventually made her own recordings of many of Zevon’s songs.

“Desperados Under the Eaves” is a good introduction to Zevon’s musical and poetic style, as well as his signature delivery. First, there’s the sophisticated harmony of the string arrangement. Then there’s the subtle sarcasm of the lyrics, camouflaged in lush chord progressions usually associated with more sentimental songs. And then there’s the joyous weirdness of it all: note the 16 bars of Zevon humming like an air conditioner.

 

Browne stayed on as producer, assisted by guitarist Waddy Wachtel, for Zevon’s second Asylum album, Excitable Boy, in 1978. On these tracks, Zevon doubles down on his dark quirkiness on songs like the album’s big hit, “Werewolves of London.” But even more interesting are the ingenious ramblings of a man who sees madness everywhere he looks. Often these have political backdrops, like “Veracruz” and “Roland the Headless Thompson Gunner.”

The album opens with. “When Johnny Strikes Up the Band.” It is lyrically simple and vague, but Zevon’s impassioned delivery, plus the contributions of session greats Russ Kunkel on drums and Danny Kortchmar on percussion, and a couple of terrific guitar riffs by Wachtel, make this a little-known 1970s rock gem.

 

Bad Luck Streak in Dancing School came out in 1980, boasting a quartet of singles that included Zevon’s cover of the Yardbirds’ “A Certain Girl,” originally written by Allen Toussaint and recorded by Ernie K-Doe. That was the only one of the record’s singles to chart. This fourth studio album also marked a tentative move to Elektra Records.

As usual, the studio was full of big names offering their services, including Browne, Ronstadt, Glenn Frey, and Don Henley. Guitarist Joe Walsh enriches the march-like rhythm and staid melody of “Jeannie Needs a Shooter” by playing counterpoint against Zevon’s voice.

 

Continuing his pattern of releasing albums every other year, Zevon made The Envoy in 1982, giving Asylum another chance. Although one single, “Let Nothing Come Between You,” did well, the album’s sales were poor. Zevon blamed that failure on the label’s lack of commitment to marketing, but it probably also reflected the reality of the American music-buying public: Zevon’s music and lyrics were always too hip for the room and too idiosyncratic for the masses.

On this album Zevon moves into harder rock territory. The Envoy’s title track, a grimly cynical commentary on war in the Middle East, shakes with power chords played by three different guitarists, including Zevon himself, and the rattling drums of Toto’s Jeff Porcaro.

 

Sadly, the low sales of The Envoy hit Zevon hard, and the next few years found him battling his psychological demons. His previous issues with drugs and alcohol reemerged, and his relationship ended with his fiancée before she could become his second wife. After a round of rehab, Zevon took a break from recording, only playing occasional live shows. His only brief foray into recording was one single for the band Hindu Love God, which included Zevon and three members of R.E.M.: guitarist Peter Buck, bassist Mike Mills, and drummer Bill Berry.

In 1987, Zevon was ready to record Sentimental Hygiene, this time on Virgin Records. Buck, Mills, and Berry all played on the album. (At the same time, they laid down some tracks as the Hindu Love Gods, which would be released in 1990.) Michael Stipe sang backup on one track, and Bob Dylan dropped in to play harmonica. A Zevon recording session continued to be an A-list magnet. But this album and the next, Transverse City, did not sell well, so Virgin ended Zevon’s contract.

The rhythm and melody of “Splendid Isolation” are reminiscent of Tom Petty, even if the lyrics are more urban-focused and philosophical than Petty’s usual output. This should be the official anthem of introverts everywhere. (That’s Zevon on harmonica, by the way.)

 

After leaving Virgin, Zevon landed at the newly-founded label Giant Records. From his first album there, Mr. Bad Example (1991), the track “Things to Do in Denver When You’re Dead” inspired a film by Gary Fleder.

The next decade saw Zevon soldier on despite largely poor sales and having to tour in the humblest of circumstances, often unable to afford a band. But he seemed to revel in the social side of music-making: besides his impressive list of musician friends, he also enjoyed the company of some of America’s most interesting writers who also happened to play music. Several of them – Hunter S. Thompson, Amy Tan, and Carl Hiassen among others – played with Zevon at book fairs in a pickup band called the Rock Bottom Remainders. They even contributed lyrics to some of his songs.

Zevon’s final album was The Wind, recorded in 2002 while his body was being ravaged by mesothelioma. He very publicly made the decision not to pursue treatments that would weaken him so that he could have the strength to write and play for as much of his remaining time as possible. Knowing he was at the end, all his usual buddies showed up to sing on that last record, and longtime fan David Letterman devoted an entire hour of The Late Show to Zevon, who chatted with him and performed.

Zevon died in 2003 at the age of 56. It’s fitting to close with this wistful song from that last album, “Keep Me in Your Heart”:

0 comments

Leave a comment

0 Comments

Your avatar

Loading comments...

🗑️ Delete Comment

Enter moderator password to delete this comment:

✏️ Edit Comment

Enter your email to verify ownership: