MUSIC & NIGHTLIFE

Henry Lee Summer works to get back to ‘Big Fun’

David Lindquist
david.lindquist@indystar.com
Henry Lee Summer will perform on Aug. 14 at the Vogue.

When Keith Richards and Henry Lee Summer are onstage, they tell audiences the same thing:

“I’m glad to be here tonight. I’m glad to be anywhere.”

The comment relates to both men still being around after drug abuse took them to the brink of death.

Rolling Stones guitarist Richards, of course, has been on top of the music world for more than 50 years. Summer, who enjoyed mainstream success in the ’80s, bottomed out with a drunken-driving arrest in 2006 (when police subdued him with a Taser electroshock gun) and a possession of methamphetamine arrest in 2009 (when police subdued him with pepper spray).

Perhaps against the odds, Summer reached his 60th birthday in July. He says he’s sober and playing rock ’n’ roll later in life than he ever expected.

“What else am I going to do,” asks Summer, whose curly, golden mullet has been traded out for tufts of dark hair shooting out from a bandana. “I’m not interested in putting Spandex pants on, but people understand. Your crowd, they don’t get any younger, either.”

Henry Lee Summer

On Friday, Summer’s comeback efforts will bring him to the Vogue, the Broad Ripple venue where he made a video in 1988 to promote his “Hands on the Radio” single. MTV placed “Hands on the Radio” in regular rotation, following “I Wish I Had a Girl Like That” and “Darlin’ Danielle Don’t” from Summer’s self-titled album on major label Epic Records.

“I Wish I Had a Girl Like That” reached No. 20 on Billboard magazine’s Hot 100 singles chart, and Summer’s “Hey Baby” climbed to No. 18 in 1989.

These are highlights in the career of a Brazil, Ind., kid who made more than his share of noise in New York, Los Angeles and all cities in between.

Summer’s decline began with a prescription of cough medicine in the late 1990s. Citing hydrocodone, an opioid present in the cough medicine, the singer said he shifted highs and moved on to “speedball” combinations of meth and heroin.

“I’m trying so hard to turn the page on that,” Summer says of his drug problems.

He looks older than 60, thanks to worn facial features that serve as a reminder of the past decade’s struggles.

But there’s a happy hook to the Vogue show and other dates Summer is playing this year: It’s the 30th anniversary of “Time for Big Fun,” the album that made him a regional breakout star.

Issued on independent label Majestic Records, “Big Fun” sold more than 50,000 copies and featured the original versions of “I Wish I Had a Girl” and “Darlin’ Danielle Don’t.”

Summer said “I Wish I Had a Girl” arrived as a song idea in Louisville, Ky., where he and guitarist Rick Benick walked one day to a nightclub rehearsal. Their route took them past an exotic dancing establishment.

“One of the girls walked out ahead of us,” Summer said. “I said, ‘Whoo, wish I had a girl that walked like that.’ ”

He said he wrote the song in a matter of minutes, and audiences demanded the new tune be played multiple times each show.

And the girl from the sidewalk? “I’m sure she never knew she inspired that song,” Summer said.

Henry Lee Summer signs autographs in Greenfield after a concert in 1986.

In contrast to his physical appearance, Summer’s voice is undiminished.

“I can go to that fourth gear,” he said of a live show that features a bluesman’s grit delivered with evangelical zeal. “I can’t jump around near as much, but I can sing better than I could 10 or 15 years ago.”

With probation and a string of rehab stints behind him, he’s written and recorded demo versions of about 70 new songs. He figures eight are worthy of recording for a proper album.

“The lyrics aren’t about preaching,” Summer said. “It’s just a lot of the thought process of trying to come out of the pitfalls and the setbacks. The songs don’t mention drugs. Everybody goes through that feeling of getting to the top of the hill and then something happens that throws you right back down.”

Repeatedly, Summer stresses that his catastrophes have been self-inflicted. “I couldn’t even get mad at fate or anybody else,” he said.

At Castleton music stores Guitar Center and Sam Ash, staffers know Summer and refer to him as “Uncle Henry.”

He said frequent trips to the stores help him stay busy and allow a “gearhead” to test drive instruments he can’t afford these days.

“They always have the new stuff,” Summer said. “Back in the day, I could just buy it and walk out of the store.”

He lives modestly, staying in the same $100-per-week apartment he talked about when The Star caught up with him in January 2014. For someone who’s long referred to his fans as “friends, friends, friends,” Summer said he’s lucky to be trying a comeback surrounded by Hoosiers.

“People aren’t so jaded and cynical,” he said. “People will give you a chance if they think you’re sincere and you’re trying.”

Call Star reporter David Lindquist at (317) 444-6404. Follow him on Twitter: @317Lindquist.

Henry Lee Summer

• WHEN: 8 p.m. Friday.

• WHERE: The Vogue, 6259 N. College Ave.

• TICKETS: $15.

• INFO: Visit TheVogue.com or call (317) 259-7029.