by Ray Sikorski
(This article originally appeared in the July issue of the Tributary magazine.)
Ah, July in Montana. There's nothing like frolicking in meadows of beargrass beneath the purple peaks of Glacier, floating languidly down the Madison on a hot day, and watching maniacs on motorcycles crash into walls of fire in Butte.
Yes, Evel Knievel Days are back. Once again the Richest Hill on Earth will measure its wealth not in copper, zinc, and manganese, but with the mother of all mother lodes of vicarious thrills and adrenaline. This year's lineup, taking place in Uptown Butte July 26-28, boasts teams of Superbikers, Balls of Steel Stunts, a Wall of Death, world record attempts in the firewall crash and jumping motorcycles over cars, and it's all presided over by the red-white-and-bluest American icon of all time: Evel Knievel himself.
To those of us of the male gender brought up in the glorious 1970s, the mind has a hard time conceiving of a greater bacchanal. And yet, observant early visitors to the www.knieveldays.com website noticed one other event: Evel Knievel, the Rock Opera.
Whoa. The mere thought of it: Evel, resplendent in his leathers. Motorcycles flying through the air. Blazing electric guitars. The larger-than-life history of Butte's favorite son, world premiering in rock ‘n’ roll glory at the Mother Lode Theater.
Alas, it was not to be. Our Lady of the Rockies may bring miracles, but even this was out of her realm. Budgetary constraints have prevented the show from going on – in Butte, anyway. Jef Bek, founding member of Los Angeles' Zoo District Theatre Company and writer of the show, is forging ahead with the production of the rock opera, opting instead for a fall world premiere at the Bootleg Theater in L.A.
Like other boys of a certain era, Bek got bit by the Evel bug – hard.
“I remember getting big slats of wood and cinder blocks and riding my Schwinn and actually talking kids into laying down, and I was actually jumping people,” the 44-year-old composer relays via phone. “That was kind of fun.”
Later, a close encounter with a tree stump put the kibosh on plans for further gravity-defying glory, but the star-spangled superbiker was never far from Bek's mind. After successfully working as musical director for Chicago's New Crime Productions, Bek wanted to compose something of his own.
“If I were to write my own musical, what subject would I write about?” Bek asked himself. He wanted something to take place in the early '70s, as an excuse to write the kind of classic rock that he loved, and he wanted a subject that hadn't already been overdone. “It just kind of hit me: Evel Knievel. He's dramatic, he's rock 'n' roll, crazy... I just thought, man, that would be brilliant.”
The idea got put on the back burner once Bek moved to L.A., but it was always simmering back there. The events of September 11, 2001 brought it back to the fore. Bek saw people becoming more and more divided along political lines as the prospect of war became more ominous, but he remembered things being different back in his youth.
“I want to write this show about an American icon, that reflects a time when you could be rebellious yet proud to say you were an American,” Bek recalls thinking. “You say Evel Knievel to the farthest left-thinking person and the farthest right-thinking person, and you get the same response: 'Evel Knievel, wow!'”
Bek went to work on the music and lyrics for the rock opera. Of course, he still needed official authorization from the man himself. Demo CD in hand, Bek flew to Florida, hoping for the green light. Knievel and his wife, Krystal, picked Bek up at the airport in Knievel's red-white-and-blue pickup. “I'm happy to report that yeah, he was driving pretty aggressively,” Bek says.
The aggressive driving may have made him happy, but it didn't relieve Bek of his apprehension. After all, he had painted an unapologetic portrait of the man, pulling no punches with Knievel's well-documented taste for booze, women, and violence.
“I go into some dark areas, because if it's just a fluff piece where every song is just about how wonderful Evel is, it's not very compelling.”
Knievel, now in his 60s and ailing from his numerous injuries and illnesses, popped Bek's CD into the truck's player. He seemed to like the music, Bek reports. For one song, in which Linda, Knievel's first wife, sings a bittersweet love ballad, Knievel pulled his truck into a convenience store and parked. He paused, listening to the music, then turned to Bek and said, “Jef, you nailed it.”
The show was on.
Production has been going on ever since. The show will include a live band with two guitars, a bass, drums, and keyboards, 16 singers, including eight principles and eight background vocalists (“I like a lot of voices,” Bek says), and a rear-projection video screen onstage to simulate the motion of speeding motorcycles.
“You picture Evel Knievel center-stage on a motorcycle singing a song, and behind him is this video screen that shows road movement, but going the other way so it kind of gives the impression that he's riding.”
While the world premiere is now slated for L.A. in the fall, Bek hopes the show will make it to points beyond – including Vegas.
And what about Butte, the town that inspired Evel to jump his way to glory?
The production may not arrive any time soon – but Bek might. Despite not taking the show with him for Evel Knievel Days, he just might make a trip up on his own.
“To be honest with you, I've never seen a motorcycle jumping a bunch of stuff,” he says. “I may come. I'm thinking that's a good idea.”
Hopefully he’ll remember to bring his Schwinn.
“Evel Knievel, red, white, and blue/ Evel Knievel, we wanna ride with you!” Crank the tunage from “Evel Knievel, The Rock Opera” by clicking
here.
