Very few SoCal punk bands are legendary on the level that Jeffrey Lee Pierce’s Gun Club is. And of course, legends can be misleading. Pierce is known to come from El Monte, but his hometown was in fact South El Monte. Though he would say he was from Texas, like his mother. Questions about who Pierce really was were left without a direct answer when he died in 1996. Why did he pretend to be other people, like Chili Con Chola? Why did he stray so far from home, to London, Osaka, Berlin, and Cairo?

Several documentaries have been made about the songwriter’s life. One movie focused on Pierce’s at times erratic behavior and strained relationships with bandmates, more so than his musicality. It's not flattering. Another narrative comes from the many bootleg records that have been released. Artwork gets changed, titles are mixed up, and people who have no ownership over the music make money off it. Yet there’s often a form of hero worship involved.

In between these differing perspectives, are those who knew and loved him, flaws and all. Particularly, his sister Jacqui Pierce and her husband Johnny Faretra. They’re the custodians of his estate, rereleasing his work as he intended through Creeping Ritual Productions. This is the primary way they affect the telling of his story, more so than in liner notes or documentaries (though they’ve given a few interviews to Gun Club historian Ryan Leach).

But they have insight into Pierce’s upbringing, and how his music has survived. Their memories provide an affectionate perspective that has lacked from much of the legend. 

That said, there’s no need to throw out the parts of Jeffrey that pissed people off. He sure didn’t. Rather, let’s include in our mental albums the impression he left on his sister - that of a seer of wisdom in others - so that we may hear his words and music in more detail.