BY LARRY NAGER
Lonnie McIntosh in the early 1960s.
The Cincinnati Enquirer
Lonnie Mack remembers that moment 50 years ago when he discovered what he'd do with the rest of his life.
''I was about 7 and I had a guitar, and I was walking across by the switch tracks, and the railroad workers over there were on their lunch break. 'Hey boy can you play that thing?' 'Yeah.' 'Come on over and play us a tune.' I went over and played 'em a tune. They put money in the guitar. I said, 'Hmm, this could be all right.' ''
Back then he was Lonnie McIntosh, a kid from a musical family in Aurora, Ind.
Today, half a century and thousands of one-nighters later, the Tristate musician is acknowledged as one of the most influential musicians in rock 'n' roll history. Mr. Mack changed the way the world plays guitar. Sunday at the Cammys, he'll accept the 1998 Michael W. Bany Lifetime Achievement Award.
''He invented rock guitar with effects,'' says Marcos Sastre, guitarist for the Cincinnati blues/rock band the Blue Birds. ''Nobody was using distortion and choruses (before him).''
That's not only local pride. People like Eric Clapton and the late Stevie Ray Vaughan have said much the same. Blending blues, soul and country with modern electronic effects, Mr. Mack created a unique style out of the diverse elements of Greater Cincinnati's music.
Mr. Mack puts it simply. ''There wasn't no rock 'n' roll when I started. It came along as I was doin' it.''
For taking his Cincinnati sound and spreading it around the planet; for creating the all-time classic instrumental, ''Memphis;'' for inspiring thousands of guitarists famous and obscure through more than four decades of making music, the rock 'n' roll pioneer was selected for the second lifetime achievement award. (Bootsy Collins was the 1997 winner.)
Mr. Mack, who turns 57 this year, literally earned his name playing area nightspots.
The owner of the Twilight Inn in McGonigle, south of Oxford, liked the husky teen-ager's group and hired them as the house band.
''He said, 'What's the name of your band?' I said, 'We don't have a name.' 'What's your name?' 'Lonnie McIntosh.' He said, 'That'll never work. We'll call you Lonnie Mack, how's that?' I said, 'Fine.' And he said, 'It's the Twilight, so we'll call you Lonnie Mack and the Twilighters.' ''
At 15, Mr. Mack was too young to be playing in a bar. But built big and already in command of his guitar and soulful voice, he seemed older. By then, he'd been in the clubs for two years. Along with his Kalamazoo electric guitar and Gibson amp, he carried another piece of equipment vital for an underage musician -- a fake I.D.
Within a couple of years, Lonnie Mack & the Twilighters was the hottest band in the Tristate. The 17-year-old guitarist decided he needed a new instrument. He found one at Glenn Hughes' music store in Norwood.
Piloting his famous Flying V at a recent gig.
Mr. Hughes had just come back from the Gibson factory in Kalamazoo, Mich., with drawings of the latest models.
''I said, 'Man, the one that looks like an arrow, I like that! Order me one.' ''
Today, 40 years later, that same Gibson Flying V still hangs around Mr. Mack's neck, one of the most distinctive trademarks in rock or blues.
It's also one of the most valuable. Flying V's from 1958 regularly sell for more than $80,000. Mr. Mack has turned down offers of more than $100,000 for the most famous Flying V.
With his arrow-shaped guitar in hand, he continued packing places all over the region and began doing short tours with other local singers. In 1963, with instrumental records by the Ventures and Booker T & the MGs topping the charts, he recorded his version of Chuck Berry's ''Memphis'' for Harry Carlson's Fraternity label.
''I cut 'Memphis' and left the next week with Troy (Seals),'' he recalls. ''And while we was on the road, 'Memphis' became a hit. We were playing the Peppermint Lounge in Miami, and some people came down from Hamilton and said, 'That's all we been hearing all the way down here.' ''
The follow-up instrumental was ''Wham!''; Fraternity released the album The Wham of that Memphis Man. ''Wham!'' failed to follow ''Memphis'' to the top of the charts, and in 1964, the Beatles arrived in the states. The next few years would be a dismal time for American rock.
But Mr. Mack never quit playing. Mr. Carlson sold his contract to Elektra Records, then having success with the Paul Butterfield Blues Band. Mr. Mack moved to California in 1967 and found the psychedelic scene wasn't his cup of mushroom tea.
''They was mostly into just really out-there kinda music, ripped-out-of-their-tree music,'' he recalls.
''I never got too heavy into the really heavy dope scene out there,'' he says with a laugh. ''I was more an older biker or something. I had my Harleys, and I liked to drink beer.''
Sounds of the '70s
He cut a few fine albums, including Glad I'm In the Band and Whatever's Right. He also made a famous guest appearance playing bass on the Doors' ''Roadhouse Blues.''
In the '70s, he worked in the Elektra A&R department but corporate life wasn't for him. He came back home and hooked up with his old friend Rusty York and another partner to open the Friendship Music Park in Indiana.
In the late '70s, he teamed with another old friend from his Fraternity Records days, former jingle writer Ed Labunski. The pair gathered musicians for an album to be called South. It was mixed down and ready for release when Mr. Labunski, who was funding the sessions and shopping the album to major labels, was killed in a car wreck.
Mr. Mack's comeback was delayed, but only for a few years. In the '80s, the guitar hero's career enjoyed a major revival by way of Alligator Records, a label owned by former Cincinnatian Bruce Iglauer.
The resulting Alligator albums, Strike Like Lightning (1985), Second Sight (1986) and Live! Attack of the Killer V (1990), in addition to an Alligator reissue of The Wham of That Memphis Man introduced Mr. Mack to a new generation of blues-rock fans, people who had grown up listening to his disciples.
One of those disciples was Stevie Ray Vaughan, who co-produced Second Sight. Mr. Mack had met the Texas guitar great in a club in Austin, Texas.
''I walked in, and he was playing 'Wham!','' Mr. Mack recalls. The two became close friends and toured together.
Whenever Mr. Vaughan played in the Cincinnati area, Mr. Mack could usually be found jamming with him onstage.
''He's always been a big idol of mine and a big influence on my playing,'' Mr. Vaughan once said of his friend. The late Texas blues-rocker often said in interviews that the first record he bought was The Wham of That Memphis Man.
After his comeback, Mr. Mack signed a deal with Sony, resulting in the album Roadhouses and Dance Halls, released in 1988. One song from that disc, ''Too Rock for Country (Too Country for Rock 'n' Roll),'' pretty much told the story of his career.
If radio ignored him, he remained a legendary figure on the concert circuit, a true original in a world of clever clones.
But the old road warrior is tired of the grind of one-nighters. That's one reason, he says, that he has avoided a new record deal.
''To tour as much as I did in the old days would kill me,'' he says. ''But record companies all want you out on the road to promote their product.''
Today his music can be heard in the Smithsonian Institution. Reprinted posters of a 1969 concert he did with the Doors sell for hundreds of dollars. Further on Down the Road, a video of his 1986 concert with Albert Collins and Roy Buchanan, remains in print.
There are books of his guitar solo transcriptions and videos that teach Lonnie Mack-style guitar. Gibson has a Lonnie Mack model Flying V that sells for more than 20 times what he paid for his 1958 original.
He's not a rich man, but just about every record he's ever made is still available, now on CD. As a result, the list of Mack disciples continues to grow, as such young guitarists as Kenny Wayne Shepherd acknowledge their debt to the master.
Mr. Mack, who lives in Smithville, Tenn., with his wife, Carol, is realistic about the business he's in. The music industry, after all, has never been known for rewarding its true innovators. It's usually the imitators who get rich.
In the end, one of the guitar hero's greatest rewards has nothing to do with money. It's knowing that he's created something that will continue to inspire guitarists for generations.
''It's a great honor to be able to do that. What you do in this business, your whole thing is givin' stuff away,'' he says thoughtfully. ''But that makes you feel good, makes you feel like you've really done something.''