Posted on 08/28/2006 10:40:29 AM PDT by qam1
When Syd Barrett died earlier this summer, you would've thought I was a personal friend or relative. My wife called. Co-workers asked if it was going to inspire a column. Old friends sent e-mails. If you don't know - which is no crime, trust me - Barrett was a founder of the classic rock band Pink Floyd in the mid-1960s.
He only stuck around for one full album before a drug addiction made him an impossible creative partner for a group that went on to do tremendous things in his stead. Some of Pink Floyd's best work - songs like Wish You Were Here and Shine On You Crazy Diamond - were inspired by Barrett's purported deep psychosis spurred by excessive LSD use. All you have to do is hear the song See Emily Play to know Barrett had potential, but he sold himself - and many others - short.
They say he somehow influenced other rockers with musical gibberish released on a pair of hurried solo albums, but that's a major reach born out of the mystique of his unfulfilled potential. It's kind of like when a bunch of ersatz art experts go to see some modern art that stinks and everyone says it's great because they either feel compelled or don't want to break ranks and risk sounding dumb.
While I was flattered to have been the immediate classic-rock go-to guy when Barrett's tortured existence came to an end this July, I could barely manage a shoulder shrug. I try to pride myself on not being easily cast under unworthy spells. I see the undeserved mystique we attach to people who have not upheld their ends of the unspoken contract they sign with those who help put them in the driver's seat of life's Rolls Royce and, well, it makes me want to vomit.
Don't get me wrong. I appreciate the collective works of Jim Morrison, Jimi Hendrix, Tim Hardin, Phil Ochs and countless others. But each loses points on my scorecard for depriving us of their magical skills for the long haul.
Another example for the generation more or less after mine would be Kurt Cobain, the front man for the grunge band Nirvana. Once upon a time, I had a good ear for emerging talent. The first time I heard U2, I knew they were special. Ditto for REM. I have obviously since lost my touch, as I can't understand why this Pete Yorn kid isn't a deity and why hip-hop is considered music, but I digress.
The first time I heard Nirvana, I heard great potential. Nothing more, nothing less. Greatness was years away. And that potential for greatness went through the 27-year-old Cobain's brain in the form of a self-inflicted gunshot in 1994. Calling Cobain a tortured artist is giving him too much credit. He was just a heroin addict who took his life, leaving behind a growing following starved for a lead voice that was not borrowed from the record collection of their older siblings or even their parents.
The reaction to Cobain's deadly action was for music critics and assorted others to attach a ridiculous mystique to his memory. He has been called the John Lennon of Generation X. If true, I truly pity that generation. Actually, I pity the dimwit who tagged him as such. Because it's not true.
He was, at best, the Syd Barrett of his generation. Some of you older folks - assuming you made it this far into a column strewn with names you don't know - are not immune.
The wife and I recently dialed up the movie about Johnny Cash, Walk The Line, on Pay-Per-View. It was a little too long, but a good flick. I give it three Stars of David out of a possible four. It included outstanding performances - particularly by the darling Reese Witherspoon, who deservedly won the Oscar for her portrayal of June Carter Cash.
But it only confirmed my belief that the myth and legend that swirls around Johnny Cash are largely unwarranted. Many ardent admirers of Cash may not realize that he didn't even write a lot of his most noteworthy songs and, considering how drugged up he was most of the time, it's no wonder.
But since he dressed in all-black outfits and played concerts at prisons - thus, adding to the overall mystique the falsehood that he was some hardened ex-con - there is a disproportionate aura. I'm not saying Johnny Cash was a bad guy. His heart was in the right place, but give me a break. A lot of younger people have oddly fallen under his spell, too.
There was a former editor here - an exceedingly bright young lady - who would go on and on about how Bruce Springsteen and Neil Young are old and tired and should never write or sing another word.
I may be blinded by the light when it comes to Springsteen, but he steered clear of drugs for the stated reason he didn't want to risk losing everything he had worked so hard to achieve. Guys who were in some of his early bands have recounted how they would be in one room partying while he'd be in another writing songs.
Young's song The Needle and the Damage Done is one of the best anti-drug anthems ever written and was inspired by the drug-induced deaths of a band member and a roadie. Young, whose lyrics were quoted in Cobain's suicide note, also eulogized Cobain in the song Sleeps With Angels. But Springsteen and Young should hang up their guitars and go home to their rocking chairs?
"OK, what about Johnny Cash?" I asked.
No hesitation.
"Oh yeah, he's cool," she said.
True story.
I'm not saying we should start a bonfire with works of art from those who compromised their abilities through fatal addictions. But understand that they broke a bond with society because they could have and should have given us more.
The guy lost in the shuffle with Croce was his guitar player and collaborator [Marty Muhl- something]. Before they hooked up Croce was going nowhere. Don't know if he co-wrote, helped with the arrangements or what. But Croce took off once he joined up. He died in the same plane crash.
I always liked "The Entertainer" [best description of the music business I ever heard (edging out "Under Assistant West Coast Promo Man")]. And as a Catholic, "Only the Good Die Young" was a hoot. I also liked the tribute album he did to the '50s groups [with "Uptown Girl"].
One of the groups that sent me around the bend when they got in was the SUPREMES.
See my post #101. It was meant for you. Somehow I sent it for Screamname. Another senior moment [sigh]
I always liked Billy Joel, saw him in concert a few years ago, and he still puts on a great show.
I read the way the plane crashed was ridiculous...They were taking off and a wing simply clipped the top 3 inches of a tree. I guess that was enough to upset the air flow and swing the plane to a dive. It`s always the greats isn`t it? It`s never George Michael, Air Supply or even Kanye West doing the death thing. Barry Manilow still tours but Stevie Ray Vaughn is 6 feet under.
Check out this Paul McCartney concert I was watching last night on Youtube. I can`t believe how great this guy still is at 60+ years old. Someone posted them but not in order, so you may have to do a search to watch them in order. Just start with #1 and watch one after the other, this guy is incredible. You would think by now he would be some kind of lightweight has been, but he completely kicks ass in this show.
http://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=paul+mccartney+back+in+the+us&search=Search
I saw a Sprinsteen concert in 1974..................
I saw him at the same time (1973) in a small club. The music was very rousing but I couldn't get into it because I had never heard any of his albums
I read the same accounts in Rolling Stone mag years ago about the wacky love nest Yoko and John set up in NYC. All white rooms etc. Can you believe that funking Yoko is worth a billion these days?
I agree, minus the "but not too bad" part. His thoughts on Stringspreen, Young, and Cash are bunk in my book. Neil Young was such a drug addict, Stringspreen hasn't made good music since the 70's, and Cash ...... well ...... not every great voice writes their own material. He got it right on Syd and No-brain, though.
You know, it was Clapton that gave up his seat in that doomed chopper so that SRV could get back to a family function quickly. A buddy of mine from Texas told me that after the crash, some friends of his made T-shirts that said 'E.C. killed S.R.V.' Pretty bad, but those Texans (and this Georgian) loved their SRV.
Trip/Moon
She is absolutely money obsessed, I assume because she has nothing else to do with her time. If you want to know how low she goes for a buck, take a look at the John Lennon baby stuff she sells through Amazon. Someone told me she doesn`t allow it to be advertised because she knows how low it is, but that doesn`t stop her from putting this sh*t up for sale. She use to have up John Lennon diapers and John Lennon cribs but it looks like it was taken down. This is all she has up now...
http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_ss_ba/002-3047433-4637652?url=search-alias%3Dbaby-products&field-keywords=john+lennon+baby&Go.x=15&Go.y=16&Go=Go
That's because he only had one album then. Like I said, he did mostly oldie covers and did them well.
By the way, you have a great homepage.
I would have much preferred that Clapton took that seat rather than a bonafide genius like SRV. I can`t stand Clapton, Clapton is as phony as it gets. He`s nothing more than an english putz who has had his arse kissed his entire life for doing nothing more than ripping off black musicians and everyone else whose crossed his path, and if you want to know how phony he is (as if his disgusting exploitation of his sons death wasn`t example enough), a friend of mine about ten years ago was playing in a bar down in the Village here in NYC when HRH Clapton walked in. HRH Clapton liked what he was hearing and asked how he played a certain lick on the guitar, so my buddy showed him. Needless to say my buddy asked for an autograph, and what did HRH Clapton say? He said no. I mean here he comes off the street, rips off a riff my buddy made up to come up working on his own style, and HRH Clapton spits in his face. F- that putz. Let him go back on heroin and OD. It seems that was the only time he was any good.
-PJ
Speaking of the "Turtles",Frank Zappa had always been pressured to make commercial music by his record label."You should make music like the Turtles",they said.So what did he do after the Mothers broke up and he was looking for a new line up?He hired Flo and Eddie of the Turtles and still made music like he wanted.
I'm not in the group that thinks Clapton is G-d as a guitar player, but in the last twenty years or so he's seemed like a pretty decent fellow. That story seems a little fishy to me (I'm questioning your friend's rendition of the story not yours).
I liked it when it was done by NiN, but Cash's cover, makes me feel the song in the gut more.
It`s not a fishy story, the guy is a world class sc*mbag. I`m not the greatest writer in the world so maybe you would find it hard to believe, but to say it again, he showed him some licks and Clapton told him to f- off when he asked for his autograph and I believe it. Lest you forget, when his son Connor died, he was all over the airwaves, radio, TV, exploiting his kids death for every last pound of attention, like CIndy Sheehan, for an entire year. Could you do that if your son was killed? I would be in an absolute catatonic coma for a year if I lost my kid like that, yet there was Clapton on Dance fever and every other dickwad show whoring his kid for a lousy buck until he finally convinced the fools to give him a grammy. It was never ending all the appearences he made. Oh yes, another story... I drove a roadie once who told me when Clapton was on tour with John Lee Hooker, Hooker one night touched Claptons guitar and Clapton kicked Hooker out of the tour right there. Do you remember that one? I think think this was in the early `80`s. They were suppose to go on tour but suddenly the bitch cancelled it. Clapton sucks and will always suck. The only time he was of any use or any good was when he was leeching off the backs of true talents like Jack Bruce or the Allman brothers. I always find it funny that everyone compliments him on Layla when that idiot didn`t write one note for that song. It was a compete Duane Allman song, and for years he held back royalties from his Duanes family after Duane died.. He`s a complete freggin` sh*tbag, and in my opinion a talentless waste of food and air.
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