JACK MORIARITY HAS BEEN PLAYING MUSIC in this town since before he reached the age of double digits. I’m trying to remember the first show of his I was at. I can’t place the exact time or place but he and his dad used to do this two-piece set. Jack on guitar and vocals. Dad on the snare drum. It was awesome.
Jack must’ve been maybe 10 or 11 at the time. When he played and sang, this pure passion emanated from him. I remember that feeling. This kid up there in front of a room full of punks, singing his guts out, raw, rough-around-the-edges with nothing but a snare drum and a dad—that really didn’t know much about the drums but knew that this kid had a passion for this thing and he was there for it—behind him.
Years later, Jack would become the one on the proverbial snare drum behind the guy with the passion for the thing singing his guts out.
Jack would also book the shows, drive the van, organize the itinerary and promotion and lead the band of whatever group of musicians were there in whatever city they were playing that night. Jack would play drums. Or guitar. Or bass. Or keys. Whatever was needed. The guy in front singing his guts out was Patrick Haggerty, the legendary Country Music Hall of Fame Singer, credited with the world’s first-ever openly gay country album… Lavender Country.
Patrick passed away last fall.
His passing was noted, observed and mourned around the country. They’ll be having an open mic style memorial afterparty for him April 21 at the Charleston. We caught up with Jack about his time with the queer country music icon and his years of growing up and doing stuff in this town…
NICK SLEDGE: I remember first meeting you somewhere on Callow many years ago, and you were just a wee lad. Shortly after that, I think, you started jumping on shows at those venues. What age do you remember getting serious about music and when did you start playing shows?
JACK MORIARITY: I was always hanging out at the AFU as a kid for my dad’s art openings. I think he partially expected me to inherit his graphic art genes but I latched onto music instead. Luckily the Bremerton arts scene had no shortage of cool oddball musicians to take me under their wing, and by the time I was about 8 I started …getting pulled into playing at art shows. Everybody there was super supportive and into it.
SLEDGE: Are there any particular Bremerton art scene oddballs from that time in your life that stand out as influences, enablers, mentors or whatever you’d call it?
JACK: Patrick Haggerty, Bobby Taylor and Bobby Inocente are the main folks who come to mind. Patrick was a Washington farm boy raised on Patsy Cline and Hank Williams, Bobby Taylor was a delta blues harmonica player with roots in Chicago and Nashville, and Bobby Inocente was a New Yorker who worked as a session musician during the Motown era. Somehow they all collided in Bremerton and started gigging together, playing country, blues, and R&B everywhere from local nursing homes to the AFU. I learned a lot from all three of them, but Patrick was probably my longest running music teacher. For years he provided music lessons in exchange for painting lessons from my dad.
SLEDGE: Later you would go on to join Patrick in Lavender Country and travel the country with that band. How did that come about?
JACK: I was about fourteen when Lavender Country was reissued and started gaining traction. Patrick assembled a local band to back him up that included Bobby & Bobby, myself, and quite a few other musicians that he’d linked up with over the years. I started off just doing local gigs but as time went on Patrick started bringing me along to more shows out of state, and over time I took over the role of helping direct whatever new musicians were joining us. The band lineup was different for almost every show.
SLEDGE: Of all the shows in different cities with different bands, are there any that have stuck with you as particularly special moments or monumental experiences?
JACK: It’s hard to point my finger at any one show or moment that really stuck out, but one thing that really surprised me was that so many of my favorite shows we ever played were in the most unlikely towns. Like going on tour, we would play the most fiery packed show in some backwoods town in Iowa, then pull up in Nashville the next day to a cold and empty room. There were plenty of great city shows too, but I think one of the most special things about Lavender Country was the appeal to rural folks.
SLEDGE: Speaking of rural, tell me more about what a ‘misery whip’ is… Misery Whip is your new band?
JACK: Misery Whip is old school logging slang for a huge two-person saw. Pretty country if you ask me. We thought it would be cool to name our band that as a nod to the PNW’s working class history as well as our singer Cameron’s roots. His family worked in logging for decades (and his last name is Wood!)
SLEDGE: I love everything about that. And I love how you guys have morphed through genres over the years. How long has that group been playing music together?
JACK: Ah man, forever! Lex, Luke, and I have been hanging out since the first grade and we’ve been playing in various bands together ever since. Cameron and I kicked it off in high school with our band Raygun Jones. We all still play together in The Electric Kühl-Aid Party too. // NICK SLEDGE
Patrick Haggerty Memorial After Party 8 p.m., April 21 all ages at the Charleston. More Misery Whip @miserywhippnw
