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.
I love Audioslave. Of course I was a huge Rage fan. And if not for Audioslave I probably would not have gotten into Soundgarden. I didn't care for the grunge movement when it actually hit. Maybe I just have more angst now. :)
The reason I'm drawn to somber music (and, I suspect, the same is true for a lot of folks) is not to achieve a certain emotion, but rather to be released of a certain emotion, I suppose. I've had "blue bouts" since I was in the single digits, depressive episodes which can not be linked to any specific event, just garden variety, non-life (or sanity) threatening depression. I can listen to certain music--whether it is Bach's violin concerto #1, Floyd's "Great Gig in the Sky," or any other work which could fall under the heading of "somber," and I find myself relieved of the depression. I can't explain why, it just happens. It seems like the reverse should be true, that if I'm feeling down, a little "Ode to Joy" should perk me up, but that's not the effect music has on me. I get much more out of "Ode to Joy" when I'm in a great mood. Now that I'm thinking about it, maybe it is odd. I never gave much thought to the effect that music has on other people, and maybe the reverse of the effect that music has on me is more common to others. I still don't believe that artists set out to make music in an effort to depress listeners. A lot of artists--not just musicians, but poets, painters, sculptors, etc--create their work in an effort to work through their own emotions, without regard to the effect that it has on others. I don't have a problem with that. Think of all the tremendous works of art we'd have missed out on if artists stopped creating works out of fear that it might have a negative effect on someone. There'd be no rap music, I grant you that, but we'd lose out on so much more.
I'll be keeping an ear out for Dawg music, it sounds like something I'd really enjoy. I'm not familiar with Grisman but I used to listen to the Flecktones quite a bit. I managed a Sam Goody for a few years (great job, LOUSY pay) and from 8am until around 11am I could listen to anything I wanted. That's when I first listened to Fleck. It's also when I became acquainted with klezmer music and when I first realized that not all country music is "booze-n-twang." A real ear-opener, that job was.
The 1st RATM album was good at it's time. I didn't really care for the messages in the lyrics but it was fresh and exciting. The subsequent albums were trash.
Audioslave is one of the most unimaginative and uncreative bands in mainstream music (and that's saying a lot). Glad you got into Soundgarden though!
Johnny Cash lived thirty more years than Elvis did. Not only that, most of Presley's compositions were hits. Whereas many of Johnny Cash's hits were written by others. Yes, Johnny may have written more songs, but it doesn't make him a better artist than Presley, IMO. As for Sinatra, he was a good singer, had great charisma, and was talented. All similar attributes to Johnny Cash, and thus, again IMO, nothing that makes Sinatra or Cash great artists. You could, using my logic, say the same of Elvis Presley and I wouldn't argue that point much. My opinion of popular music "artists" is that those terms are somewhat contradictory. Popular cultural entertainment, IMO, is not art. It uses aspects of art, such as music and acting, writing or graphic arts, but it does not strike me as art.
He certainly did. Go to www.allmusic.com and look at the songs he composed. Hits such as "All Shook Up", "Don't Be Cruel", "Heartbreak Hotel".
I will agree with you that many of his hits were written by others, but he did write several of his number one hits and many of his top tens. Whether he did it by himself or collaborated I guess you could argue that he didn't write it HIMSELF, but he does have composition credits on many of his songs.
"Heartbreak Hotel" was written by Hoyt Axton's mother, as I recall [At least that was what Axton said in an interview]. A lot of guys from producers to agents to rock stars got co-writing credits so writers could get their songs recorded and / or published. You'd be amazed at how many songs that showed up on Bandstand and the Dick Clark show got published by Clark's music publishing company.
As for Elvis, I would stand by my contention that despite the credits, he didn't write the songs.
That's fine. I understand, truly. I am not so concerned with the whole "who's the best popular artist" debate, because, as I have stated, there are no popular artists. There are loads of popular entertainers. Actually, I'll take that back. There is one or two popular artists, and the one that comes to mind immediately is Dave Brubeck, among the living, and Miles Davis, among those who have passed recently.
Still, the majority of people would tell they've heard those names I mentioned, but don't know what they do. Kind of sad really.
Guitarist Danny Whitten was fired from Crazy Horse when his drug addiction became unmanageable. Neil Young cut him a severance check to keep him on his feet. Whitten cashed the check and spent the money on what would be a fatal dose of heroin.
You think so? I think the musical output of Dave Grohl's Foo Fighters is far better. Grohl is hands down the best drummer in rock and roll --despite the fact that he plays guitar in his current band.
Don't believe me?
Listen to his Bonhamesque drumming for Queens of the Stone Age.
Cobain was the Jim Morrison of Gen-X. An overrated addict. Both dead at 27 and their mythology far outweighs their real talent.
Dave Grohl was the virtuoso behind Nirvana.
War On Drugs is a pretty good band. They create atmospheric music.
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