Remembering Andy Kotowicz

There weren’t many people in Tennessee making a living off indie rock in 1996. Andy Kotowicz was one of them, and I was another. Andy worked at a label in Murfreesboro called Spongebath Records, and I worked at a small PR company in Memphis called Autotonic.

Spongebath hired us to work a release or two and Andy and I immediately hit it off. Though in his early 20s, he was already a true record man with an abiding love for the Flamin’ Groovies (he penned the liner notes for the 1999 Buddha reissue of ‘Teenage Head’) and the MC5. He had impeccable taste in music, which he shared with me generously and enthusiastically.

When Andy moved to NYC, I crashed on his floor a couple times before moving here myself. On one of those trips we went to a show at Tramps and ran into David Fricke. Talk immediately turned to Andy’s favorite subject, Michigan rock & roll. I remember clearly David Fricke – David Fricke – marveling at Andy’s encyclopedic knowledge of his home state scene.

When I finally did move to NYC and began looking for a job, I called everyone I knew. The first call back came from Andy. He took me out to lunch, and told me he’d heard that Shore Fire might have an opening. He said he’d put in a good word for me.

Shortly after I started at Shore Fire, Andy was offered a position at Sub Pop and picked up stakes for Seattle. He told me it was his dream job.

I’m sad to say that we fell out of touch after the move. We both got busy with work, families etc…

I ran into Andy at SXSW this past spring, and though we hadn’t spoken in a few years, we picked up the conversation just like it was another night at Tramps. He was that same warm Andy: easygoing and eager to talk music. We talked about our kids too. And work. He said Sub Pop still felt like a dream job.

When I heard the news yesterday that Andy passed away over the weekend I was shocked. I was reminded of the profound influence he had on me.

The concept of “sharing” is different now than it was when Andy and I first met. Back then, we traded cds and went record shopping together. We spent hours sitting in front of a turntable listening, talking.

For a hopeless record collector, the only thing more exciting than a rare find is that rare person who shares your musical worldview, and expands it. I can count on one hand the number of people who have had that kind of impact on me. Andy Kotowicz was one of them.