Material Issue founder and frontman Jim Ellison died in June 1996.
After Jim died, I wrote a long obituary for NewCity, which was sort of an alt-alt-weekly in Chicago. I had moved to New York three years earlier, but I had seen Jim more recently because MI came to the city to open for the Pretenders and Jim invited me to the concert and we hung out backstage and watched Chrissie Hynde do her thing after the Ish set.
When my obit ran a week after his death, Jim’s mother Patricia Ellison called me at my desk at Worth magazine. Thinking back on it now, I can’t even imagine how she knew my number or where I worked. I knew Mrs. Ellison a little from hanging out at Jim’s house and working on cars, but not well enough that I’d have guessed she knew how to get hold of me. But she did, and she told me how grateful she was for the remembrance.
I have always believed in the value of obituaries and properly honoring someone. My first job in writing was for a reference book called Annual Obituary, where I wrote lengthy recaps of the lives of people like Stella Adler, Mario Bauza, Hank Iba and Don Drysdale. When I became editor of the Observer I would publish (and sometimes write) super-long obits when someone important—or even just meaningful to me—had died. I wrote obituaries for everyone from David Carr to the journalist Jim Frederick to people like my mother or Sam Halpern, who weren’t well known but deserved to be remembered. I would also sometimes write critical obits of people who deserved to be remembered but maybe not glorified, like Gunter Grass. And some of my favorite stores I ever published (but did not write) were obits of people like Peter Kaplan and Lou Reed.
I’ll never forget that call from Mrs. Ellison, a mom grieving her unique son. I bet she remembers it, too.
I got a ton of email after that ran, and being that it was summer 1996, hearing from strangers via email was still quite novel, that sense of how the Internet was shrinking the world. RIP, Jim Ellison. I wish you knew how many lives you touched.
Above are photos of how the story looked in NewCity, a classic Philin Phlash image of Jim holding his Tele Deluxe vertical at Cubby Bear; below is one of the only photos I have of me and Jim together, from when he produced The Lilacs first record, “The Lilacs Love You.” He played some guitar on one track (It Seems Like Years) and sang on another (My Baby Does It for Free) and Jim producing that record gave the band instant credibility and buzz. Very big-hearted of him to do, totally in keeping with his personality.
Hi Ken, I don’t know if this will get to u. Jim was my husband and my best friend. Long story but When my husband tommy and Jim worked together they used a form called “ material issue” to get more parts. And Jim said that would b a good name for my band. Also tommy & Jim went to Mexico for a vacation plus Jim wanted to cleanse himself, ( we found out) I dropped him off at home, he called to thank us for everything ( which we thought was the vacation) but then his dad Wally called and asked if we saw him , that’s when his dad found him in the garage. He was as close to a brother as you can get . Tommy and Jim were in separatable (we called him Bones) that’s a funny story too.
Hope your well thanks for the great stories on Jim
Pam
Dear Pam:
I admire the fact that you and your husband knew Jimmy Ellison so well and, in fact, were really good friends with him. I cannot imagine the pain you both endured as a result of his untimely passing.
I have been contacted by two young filmmakers who are working on a documentary about Jimmy, Ted, Mike and Material Issue. I would like to ask you if you and your husband would be interested in being interviewed. As I’ve always felt since I learned of my childhood friends amazing life and sad death around 2010, Jimmy does not want to be forgotten.
Maybe this is one more way he will not be.
Please let me know if I can put you in contact with the filmmakers. I think your connection to him and the band is too important to not include.
Thank You,
Jim Hoffmann
Author
“International Pop Overthrow: A Celebratory Ode to the Golden Triangle of Power Pop – Material Issue”
Didn’t know about this website but I had followed the terrible and untimely passing of Jim Ellison as I loved his music and thought the world truly lost a great person and artist when he passed in 96. I just wanted to express my deepest gratitude for his talent and soul and would like to offer him many blessings in the afterlife. I also want to express my deepest heartfelt condolences to his family. Blessings always
Thank you for these lovely thoughts. I miss Jim all the time. – Ken Kurson
I was so happy to find this. I can’t believe it has been so long since Jim Ellison’s death. I found out a bit afterwards, I had ordered Telecommando Americano – we didn’t have a home computer and before smart phones – and there was an insert on his suicide. It really broke my heart. All these years later I am listening to International Pop Overthrow and it is truly timeless. The music is alive and fresh – hard to believe it is over 30 years old.
Jim Ellison always had a sort of cockiness whenever you saw an interview but by his lyrics and certain moments his fragility comes through. I just wish he could have held on – I don’t think his moment had passed him by. Life and disappointment is hard, and sometimes it is hard to get past the moments of despair. Thank you for giving him his due, and loving him.
Thank you for this wonderful comment. You’re so right about that combination of cockiness and fragility. I hope that comes through in my obit, but you’ve put it beautifully here. And I’m glad you got Telecommando Americano. I wrote the liner notes for that record. It really holds up. You can see Jim’s songwriting progressing and “Satellite” could have been a hit. He had a real future in music, if he had declined to continue as a performer, could have done great things as a songwriter for others.
I remember Jim from the mid 80s. We would see him at Exit, West End, Gaspars, Crash Palace…etc. He invited my band to hear some of his songs that he played for us I’m thinking in his mom’s basement (?). He was always very positive about the music he loved and the songs he was writing, and the comraderie he shared with other musicians. He was so confident about his trajectory and was certain he would become a success! I treasure those moments I shared with him in that scene from long ago.
You paint a rich and vivid picture of exactly the guy I know. Your depiction of his certainty that he’d succeed was precisely the attitude I tried to capture in my obit of nearly 30 years ago. And this is strange to me – West End, Exit, Gaspar’s (and then Schuba’s) were key locations for my own misspent youth. But I can’t recall ever even HEARING of Crash Palace, let alone going there. Thanks so much for the thoughtful read.