FROM THE DIRECTOR

Jason and I met on a soccer field at Admiral King High School in the Summer of 1988. He was 14. I was 16. We were both students in the Advanced Studies program. I was soon to become a Spineriders fan. (Still am!) He graduated along with a ton of our mutual friends including my younger sister, Lisa, and my “first” wife, Jenni, who is in the film. I visited Jason while he studied at Oberlin College, and we remained friends for about another decade. The last time I saw him was a SONGS:OHIA show at The Grog Shop in Cleveland in 2002.

J was one of a kind. Super smart. Generous. Suspicious. He was as goofy and hilarious as a kid can possibly be. Talented. Relentlessly dedicated to a life creating art, even as a young buck. He often spoke sharply and directly. Jason never hesitated to say what is on his mind. But, boy, you had to be tough enough to take it. He never suffered fools, though I may be the singular exemption.

We swapped cassette tapes, shared sketches, absurd stories, and poems on the soccer bus and AKHS hallways. Jason was disappointed in me and often let me know it, even if it was only with a shot from his big black eyes. I was too busy trying to please people around me. Too tied to expectations of others instead of pursuing art. Jason beleived I both could and should be an artist. The whole thing really irritated the shit out of him. He let me know it. He told me so. Those conversations plagued me for 35 years before I finally listened.

Jason forged an outstanding career in music under the SONGS:OHIA moniker, as a solo artist, through several collaborations, and as the maestro of Magnolia Electric Company. He died at the age of 39 leaving family, friends, and fans all around the world simply wanting more. There are no superficial connections to Jason. It seems he designed it all that way.

His passing was a major impetus for getting my own mental health in order. With hard work and determination, my depression and anxiety slowly faded over the next decade. Putting a pen to paper was one of the best medicines. It seemed that I owed Jason something for that. I owed him for ever believing in me in the first place. I owed him for the expression he was ever so willing to inspire, even from the other side.

Leading up to a family reunion in Lorain in 2021, I shared Jason’s song “Leave the City” with several cousins who would be attending. They should all know about him, right? Oddly, almost no one from home does. 5 minutes later, my phone rang. It was my cousin, Kristy Walker, a photographer in San Diego. “I had no idea Jason was from Lorain! He is one of my favorite artists. We should make a documentary about him, right?” Without a thought, I said YES. We hung up, and I called Carl Raponi and Todd Jacops. “We’re making a movie!”

But when would we start shooting? What seem like terrible turns in life often eventually turn out to be great blessings. My Dad ended up in the hospital for several weeks as a result of COVID complications. He was dying. Fortunately, I was able to keep working while spending more time with my parents near Lorain. The eventual bonus, Ohio was much closer to interview subjects than Savannah, Georgia. Kristy, Alex Green, and I quickly shot the first 8 interviews and a ton of B-roll. “We’re making a movie!” Miraculously, Dad is still kickin’ ass and taking names to this day. He and Mama are watching baseball inside as I plug away developing this website in the garage.

Almost as soon as production wrapped came another tough life turn.

More to come soon….

Thank you, Jason. You are sorely missed, Homie.

THE FILM CREW