An all-star roots-rock cast sings the late musician Chris Gaffney to his rest

PHOTO by DANIEL DE BOOM

It should go without saying that yesterday’s roots-rock legend-laden Chris Gaffney memorial service at The Cellar was a tough show. The 57-year-old roots musician died of liver cancer April 17, mere months after being stricken.

But really, when is the last time any of us have ever, ever seen his best friend Dave Alvin shed a tear? That hurt a lot: watching a stony-faced Alvin–who’s out-talked a hundred hecklers–close his eyes and motion to the band during “Somewhere in Time,” which he co-wrote with Los Lobos’ David Hidalgo and Louis Perez.

He only mopped his eyes once before the song morphed into a fiery take-down of his own “Ashgrove,” but watching Alvin grieve was like seeing your old man take a punch.

“Motherfuckers gotta quit dying,” was how some guy behind me put it. It stung like one of Gaffney’s own lyrics (“Tonight’s the night/that we stay home and fight,” or else “With the radio playing ‘Expressway to Your Heart’/Staying home would be just like suicide”).

But maybe that was the best thing any of us could have said. I don’t know who else heard him, but those words and, slightly later, getting elbowed in the back of the head by someone else kept me remembering that in some ways this should be just another gig–with a gold-plated line-up. Gaffney would have liked it that way.

Every memorial service should be like this one–fueled by good beer and Mexican food, and serenaded by a mariachi band (of course they played “El Rey”), then by a Who’s Who of the ’80s roots-rock scene including Dave Alvin & the Guilty Men, Gaffney’s current band The Hacienda Brothers, and almost every member ever of his longtime outfit, the Cold Hard Facts.

Alvin and the Cold Hard Facts kicked it off with “Six Nights a Week,” which he and Gaffney co-wrote; then the Facts lit into a blistering set with Chris’s brother Greg Gaffney on bass. It was an evening of covers; here they included “Long Black Veil” and “Cinnamon Girl.”

Gaffney’s favorite comedian Andy Kindler, who eased the rocker’s last days, was there to reminisce about Gaff’s many appearances on The Ellen DeGeneres Show, his love for John Mayer and fondness for The Sharper Image catalog–all of it the kind of bunk Gaffney would have appreciated.

“Huey Lewis is on his way,” said Kindler. “He’s stuck in traffic … in 1987.” Naturally.

The real stories of Gaffney’s life stood just about as tall: of the time he and Alvin got tanked in Europe on 100-proof keg beer and almost came to blows–making Alvin consider the former Golden Gloves champ’s enviable 17-and-1 record in the ring–and of the first time Gaffney ever walked into The Helm in Costa Mesa.

“This guy comes in the bar,” said Helm bartender Penny Green, “and he starts picking songs on the jukebox. And he asks me which is my favorite. And I said ‘43-06,’ ” which was Gaff’s cover of “Cowboys to Girls.”

“He says ‘Seriously?’ And I said ‘Yeah.” And he said ‘Seriously?’ And I said ‘Look, don’t ask me, if you don’t like my taste in music.’ And he just walked over there and played it.”

Wasn’t until Gaffney started coming back about three nights a week and bringing his wife Julie that he and Green were finally introduced.

“I go up to him and I’m like ‘That’s why you were such a dick?’ ” Green said with a laugh.

It went on like that–heartfelt sentiment alternating with wry tales and the music of good times.

Guests included ex-Facts members Rick Shea and David “Doc” Pittillo (Fountain Valley’s original Guitar Doctor); X founder John Doe, who duetted with Alvin on their own “Fourth of July”; and Alvin’s brother Phil, who sang The Blasters’ “Justine” cover with Doe. Doe’s ex-wife and fellow X founder Exene Cervenka watched on the sidelines.

Somewhere in the night’s early middle age, The Hacienda Brothers played “Gone,” like you know they’d eventually have to. They’d already done “Cowboys to Girls,” a Gaffney favorite, and without the singer-guitarist-accordionist to share vocals, singer Dave Gonzalez had had to answer himself.

“This will be hard without Chris Gaffney up here pushing us around,” Gonzalez had joked, casting a glance skyward. “Boss?”

Their “Gone” sounded easier, but it probably wasn’t.

“As I look back on time we spent together/No one’s ever meant that much to me,” Gonzalez sang, adding, “hear that, Gaff?”

You couldn’t help looking over at the stool onstage, where Gaffney’s rose-colored accordion sat and at the empty mike stand–the mike covered with a black ball cap. Embroidered on its front were the words “Gaff/Vaya con dios.”