For the upcoming performance that takes place on Monday, March 20, at the Kent Stage, he’ll play a mix of material from Buffalo Springfield, Poco, and Loggins and Messina. He’ll also draw from his solo albums as well.
Reached via phone at his Franklin, TN home where he was doing “some banking” and “getting things fixed and repaired before the next run,” Messina talked about his lengthy musical career that began when he was only a teenager.
You recorded your first album when you were only 16. Talk about what that was like?
I think I was closer to 15. It was exciting. I was about 13 when I went into high school. That summer before I started high school, I had put together a little band, and we played at the Grand Terrace Country Club [in California] for the kids and their parents, who were Air Force folks having their martinis. Sailors and pilots always need a couple of drinks to get their legs. I played all through high school, and by the time I was in tenth grade, I started making a record. By the 12th grade, a guy by the name of Glen Edwards, who was a DJ working for KZAY at the Disneyland Hotel, decided he wanted me to start making records. Before I graduated high school, I got the chance to go to Hollywood and start recording. That was how I got into what I do now.
You then played in Buffalo Springfield. How did you know those guys?
I was working at Sunset Sound Recorders as a recording engineer at that time, and a woman by the name of Gypsy asked me to come in and do a session in the morning. She said it was just a demo for voice and guitar. She said that it’s booked by David Crosby. I said, “Is that Bing Crosby’s son?” She said, “I don’t think so, and I wouldn’t ask if I were you.” I set up the next day. We were in the studio, and he had a lamp that I had never seen before and he wanted me to plug it in, and he said it was a lava lamp. He needed me to turn the lights down, and the woman who came in recorded about 10 to 12 songs, and I remember listening to the person singing and thinking they were really good songs. I loved the voice, and there were good images in the lyrics. When I finished the session, I asked who to put as producer, David Crosby. I asked, “Who should I put down as the artist?” He said that Joni Mitchell was the artist. From that session, David went to [Buffalo Springfield] and said he’d worked with an engineer that they should check out, but prior to that, I didn’t know who he was and I certainly didn’t know who she was, but we eventually found all that out, didn’t we?
How’d you and Richie Furay become friends?
I was producing Buffalo Springfield and by the time we got to the third album, I was producing the band and Neil [Young] was on his way out at that point. Stephen [Stills] wanted to work with [drummer] Buddy Miles and make his music. Riche didn’t have someone on his side. That was my job. I started reaching out to [singer-songwriter] Leon Russell, who was a friend. He had some musicians from wherever he was living at the time. Jimmy Karstein was the drummer and Carl Radle was the bass player. We recorded Richie’s stuff –songs like “Kind Woman” and a couple of the other tunes. I spent a lot of time with him. I became friends with him because we spent so much time together and he was somebody who actually needed the help. By the time Buffalo Springfield was done, we had become close. I was still producing Buffalo Springfield when “Kind Woman” was recorded, and I brought in Rusty Young from Colorado to record steel on the songs. That’s when we thought that would be a good connection if we wanted to put together a band that was more country-rock than folk-rock.
Poco was Americana before Americana was cool. Did you know at the time you were onto something new?
Um, that’s hard to answer. That’s what was coming out of us. It wasn’t planned that way. Before I started working with Buffalo Springfield, I was working at Universal Audio with Mike Dorrough. He was the engineer I was assigned, and he and I had become friends. I didn’t think I’d ever become a successful studio musician. I apprenticed with him, and he taught me how to wire and edit and just about everything to do with becoming a recording engineer. We had built a studio in Indiana and guys like Roger Miller, Dorsey Burnette, James Buton, and Jerry Allison and the Crickets came in to record. I was listening to great music. With Buffalo Springfield, they were hiring people like James Burton to play dobro. I was familiar with a lot of that stuff By the time Poco came around, Richie said, “What could we do differently?” I said, “We’ve been doing folk-rock so why don’t we do country rock?” It naturally evolved into what our experiences were. He gravitated toward writing more country stuff. I had played bass in Buffalo Springfield, and I wanted to get into playing guitar. It was just the perfect excuse.
After working with Kenny Loggins, you started a solo career began in the late ‘70s. What has it been like to keep your solo career going all these years?
I’ve struggled because the business has changed so much. One of the things that happened for me that was disappointing was when I made the album Oasis, I took it to Columbia. Don Ellis was the guy who brought Kenny Loggins. During the five years that Kenny and I were there, he became an A&R man. That was 1976, and in 1979, he’s working there. I released this record. My manager presented it to him. He said he didn’t like it because it didn’t sound like Loggins and Messina. Loggins and Messina weren’t on the label in three or four years. I went out and spent almost a half million dollars promoting the album. I think we sold 150,000, units and that’s about what Kenny and I sold. Without their help, I was able to do what they did with Kenny. It was still not enough, so I asked to leave the label and went to Warner Bros., which was fantastic. But a lot of the companies stopped having their own promotional staff. I think it’s because it was expensive and there was a huge upset in that business. Every artist working independent promotion was left on the shelf. It happened to me with my first solo and then two years later at Warner Bros. They couldn’t promote the albums. If that happens too much, it will really kill you. New Wave had come in and punk rock had come in and disco was in there. Trying to make it as an artist was more and more difficult for everybody and not just me.
Do you write songs for other people?
I wrote “Mexican Minutes” for Brooks and Dunn. I don’t purposefully write songs for people. If they want something, that’s great. I decided in about 2009 or 2010 to just work on me. I had spent all my time working with other people and helping guys like Neil Young and Richie Furay and Stephen Stills. I wanted to put some of that creative time into me. I was a single dad, and I decided to stay home until I was sure my son was safe. When he turned 16, I started performing again and I have been out ever since. The shows are starting to sell out. Interestingly enough, I do believe that sometimes things come to you in different points of your life. The actor Anthony Hopkins once came to the house in about 1974 or 1975. He was not successful. He felt he was getting older and was struggling with his own demons, and then, Silence of the Lambs came out. What an incredible movie! After that, it was one after the next, and I remember seeing him a number of years later in a parking lot at a hotel. I hear this voice, “Jimmy! It’s me, Tony.” We were chatting, and I said, “How does it feel to be really successful now?” He said, “It feels good, but I wish it had happened a lot sooner in my life.” I thought to myself, “It happens when it happens.” If you work hard and keep your integrity, that’s what matters. I do what I do. I’ve done it since I was 13. I’ve had ups and downs, but I continue to work and I really enjoy it. I’m good.
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This article appears in Feb 22 – Mar 7, 2023.