Residents #1 and #2: Lenny LeBlanc and Pete Carr

Lenny LeBlanc was in his mid-20s when Fallin’ became a hit. Lenny and friend Pete Carr had teamed up to record an album and, their inspiration evidently being used up in the creation of the music, they decided the simplest thing to do was to join the ranks of such musical luminaries as Loggins & Messina or Hall & Oates and just go with the whole last name thing. Leblanc & Carr’s album Midnight Light was a modest success, with a few singles garnering radio play. Interestingly enough, Pete decided soon afterwards that he preferred producing to performing, and the group amicably separated.

Lenny went on to have a nice career making Christian music, even winning a Dove award (the Christian Grammy, for those not hip to the whole Evangelical subculture). I’m not sure what circumstances led him to use his music for the glory of God rather than gettin’ laid; perhaps he had a conversion experience similar to that of Saul on the road to Damascus, who, if I remember correctly, saw a bright light that startled him so much he fell off his donkey while his companions made fun of him and then he swore a vow to never ride donkeys again (I think that’s the story…I pieced my knowledge of the Bible together from Arch books and medieval paintings). If the real story of Lenny’s conversion is any more prosaic, I’d be sorely disappointed. Although if his music is any indication, he isn’t really the kind to do anything dramatically, up to and including religious experiences.

Pete Carr, of course, was one of the Swampers, the group of Southern studio musicians who honed that Muscle Shoals sound and can be heard on records from just about every artist who was somebody in the 60s and 70s. Let’s just put this out there: Pete is good. Incredibly good. For instance, you know that Barbra Streisand song “Woman in Love”? 

Listen to the harmonizing guitar parts at the beginning of the song. That’s Pete. Guitars on Rod Stewart’s hit “Tonight’s the Night”? Pete. Paul Simon’s ”Kodachrome”? Pete. The point is, he’s got an ear for a good tune and a mind that sees all the production angles. That’s a rare gift, friends.

So, I can certainly see why Pete would want to join up with Lenny to get his time in the spotlight; I can also see why he would decide that playing second fiddle to Monsieur LeBlanc wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. I think Lenny falls firmly into that singer/songwriter camp, and as has been proven on many a stage, they have a hard time playing well with others.

I was in a bar one time (for completely innocuous sporting-event reasons, you understand, not because I like to wet my whistle with something fiery and Kentuckian on a regular basis) when I overheard some dude explaining to his companions how he was a singer/songwriter. It seemed like such a mouthful to self-apply, I immediately began laughing. This may or may not have resulted in some terse words being exchanged, but the point is, even if you are a songwriter who also happens to be a singer, wouldn’t you just call yourself a musician? There’s enough pretention already in identifying yourself as such (“I’m in a band.” “What kind of music do you play?” “Oh, it’s so original, I can’t really describe it.” See? Bullshit.); why would you want to further pigeonhole yourself? All you’re really saying when you identify yourself as a singer/songwriter is that you think the rest of the band is holding you back. Please. No matter how many open-mic nights you play with all the other tormented souls, you’ll still never write a song half as beautiful as Fallin’. And that’s a fact.