Written by: Alex Green
Max Eider, guitarist for the Jazz Butcher Conspiracy, has died.
The British musician, who was in his late sixties, was believed to have been in poor health in recent years.
Born Peter Millson, the Max Eider persona with his dark sunglasses and tall frame cut an impressive figure. While the band were once dubbed the “Casanovas Of Cool,” much of that had to do with Eider’s nimble work on the guitar; his sleek and elegant playing was the perfect counterpoint to singer Pat Fish’s smooth delivery of strange and wonderful lyrics. Eider’s “Who Loves You Now?” and “Drink” asserted themselves as instant classics in the JBC songbook.
After playing on albums like A Scandal In Bohemia and Distressed Gentlefolk, Eider left the Jazz Butcher after a four-year stint in 1986 and quickly released his first solo album, The Best Kisser In The World. Filled with breezy, wistful pop, the album was a quiet masterpiece and although Eider wasn’t a prolific solo artist, his small discography of albums like Hotel Figueroa and Back In The Bedroom are decidedly wonderful.
Eider featured on several David J. albums like Urban Urbane and Songs From Another Season and his playing on the single “I’ll Be Your Chauffeur” remains one of the most recognizable guitar solos of the nineties.
In later years Eider reunited with Pat Fish for several tours and albums under the Jazz Butcher moniker, however, the band ceased to be after Fish’s death in 2021.
Years ago, Eider spoke to SEM about his entry point into playing music: “My earliest musical memory is of trying to pick out Beatles tunes on the piano when I was very young—about 6 or 7. I was a big fan. But I didn’t start playing guitar until I was 15. I formed a band with some friends and then we argued for weeks about who’d play what. I wanted to be the drummer, but I ended up on guitar. I borrowed a warped old acoustic from my sister’s boyfriend and cut my fingers to shreds trying to learn chords from a book. This was well before punk, and we were mainly listening to progressive rock—Caravan, Pink Floyd, King Crimson, that sort of thing—so the result, as you can imagine, was hideous. I suppose we hoped we’d look cool and impress girls. The reverse happened. However, for some reason, I persevered.”
On the subject of regret, he offered this: “Well, personally, I regret a good deal. Begging the pardon of Edith Piaf and whoever wrote that song, if you regret nothing, you’re probably either an idiot or a psychopath. But unless it can lead to a positive change in behaviour, regret is a pointless and destructive emotion and should be stifled at birth—which I suppose is what that Piaf song is really about.”
