Even in its final week, 2016 just won’t let up with the grim reaping:
Singer George Michael has died at the age of 53, his publicist has said.
The star, who launched his career with Wham! in the 1980s and continued his success as a solo performer, is said to have “passed away peacefully at home” in Goring, Oxfordshire.
Thames Valley Police say they are treating the death as unexplained but there were no suspicious circumstances.
His former Wham! bandmate Andrew Ridgeley said he was “heartbroken at the loss of my beloved friend”.
Writing on Twitter and referring to Michael as “Yog”, a nickname for “Yours Only George”, he added: “Me, his loved ones, his friends, the world of music, the world at large. 4ever loved. A xx”
On Christmas Day, no less. I wasn’t a rabid fan, but I admired his chops as a pop craftsman (anyone who sells 100 million units is doing something right). Fabulous voice; especially on this personal favorite:
53 years old. Much too young to go. This friggin’ year over yet?
Last year, when Yes was nominated for the umpteenth time for induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, I made my case:
Long before MTV (or YouTube), my teenage self would while away many hours listening to Yes with a good set of cans, staring at Roger Dean’s art, envisioning my own music videos (special effects courtesy of the joint that I rolled on the inside of the convenient gate-fold sleeve). Good times (OP sighs, takesmoment of silence to reflect on a life tragically misspent). Anyway, why this band hasn’t been inducted yet is beyond me. Complex compositions informed by deeply layered textures, impeccable musicianship, heavenly harmonies, topped off by Jon Anderson’s ethereal vocals; an embodiment of all that is good about progressive rock (I know the genre has its detractors, to whom I say…”You weren’t there, man!”)
Uh…what I said. At any rate, when it was announced today that Yes finally made the grade, I was overjoyed. Okay, maybe that’s a bit of an overreaction to something that is relatively inconsequential when contrasted with larger concerns going on in the world right now…but you know what? I’ve seen an inordinate number of my personal musical icons shuffled off to that great gig in the sky this year, so its nice to savor a little happy news about those who are still rockin’, eh?
You know what, 2016? Fuck you. Seriously. This is really too much.
Bowie. Prince. Sir George Martin. Leonard Cohen. Leon Russell. Glenn Frey. Paul Kantner. Keith Emerson…now, Greg Lake.
This is the toughest one for me since Bowie at the beginning of this year. Greg Lake was not only one of the gods of prog-rock, but for my money, owned the greatest set of pipes in any musical genre.
That voice has captivated me from the first time I heard “In the Court of the Crimson King” wafting from my radio back in 1969. Even through a tinny 4″ speaker, that beautiful, cathedral voice shot directly through my medulla oblongata and took my breath away. Instrumental accompaniment was always purely optional:
So I was fast-forwarding past the vapid, over-choreographed, auto-tuned corporate muzak on the AMAs tonight (thank the gods for DVRs), hoping against hope I’d stumble across something that resembled an organic, analog performance…when this happened:
No, you heard it right: “No Trump! No KKK! No Fascist USA!”
Oh, yeah. Kick out the jams, motherfuckers.
Can’t wait to see the president-elect’s 3am tweets about that one…
It’s getting crowded up there. Leonard Cohen on Friday, now Leon Russell on Sunday? All in all, the weekend’s been a bit of a bummer.
Oh well, we’ll always have their music.
Russell was one of the heavyweights; an in-demand session player for decades, he cut his teeth with the legendary “Wrecking Crew”, who were profiled in Denny Tedesco’s eponymous 2015 doc (my review).
He also had a prolific recording career as a solo artist, and was a truly outstanding songwriter. So many classics. Here is but a sampling…
It sounds like a bad joke: Man, what a depressing week! [“How depressing was it, Johnny?”]. I’ll tell you, Ed. American democracy died on Tuesday…and Leonard Cohen was only able to make it to Friday.
(SFX: rim shot)
Hiyo!
Of course that’s not funny. But if I don’t laugh, I’ll cry. I’m all cried out.
It goes like this: The fourth, the fifth; the minor fall, the major lift
I’m uplifted already. Halle-fuckin’-lujah. Make the angels cry, Leonard:
Was anyone’s music more cinematic? Robert Altman was an early fan:
From his final album, released just weeks ago. A true poet to the end:
He may not have been as big of a household name as another Prince we lost earlier this year (what is it with 2016?), but Cecil Bustamente Campbell (aka Prince Buster) was no less an important figure in the music world, particularly to fans of Jamaican ska and rocksteady.
Ska legend Prince Buster died Thursday morning in a South Florida hospital, his son Kareem Ali has confirmed.
The singer/producer, born Cecil Bustamante Campbell, was 78.
Prince Buster was ailing for some time, after suffering a series of strokes.
From West Kingston, Prince Buster was a protégé of producer Clement ‘Coxson’ Dodd. In the late 1950s, he launched his Voice Of The People sound system and label, which released a number of his self-produced hits including Wash Wash, Blackhead Chineyman and Judge Dread.
He also produced the Ffolkes Brothers Oh Carolina in 1961.
Buster had an enduring following in Europe, especially in the United Kingdom where he performed regularly up to 12 years ago.
Here’s one of his classic productions/compositions:
46 years ago today, the 3-day 1970 Atlanta International Pop Festival opened. Attendees were estimated to be around 200,000.
Historically overshadowed by Woodstock (held 11 months earlier), it still boasted an equally impressive roster of performers. Granted, a number of Woodstock luminaries were there (Jimi Hendrix, Johnny Winter, Ten Years After, John Sebastian, Richie Havens, Mountain et.al.), but there were top acts exclusive to the Atlanta Festival like The Allman Brothers, B.B. King, The Chambers Brothers, Procol Harum, Grand Funk Railroad, Spirit, Rare Earth, Mott the Hoople, and It’s A Beautiful Day (just to name a few).
The cost of a ticket? $14. I’ll spell that out, so you don’t think it’s a typo: fourteen dollars. Yes, I know, inflation, yadda yadda…but still (a front row seat at this fall’s Desert Trip will only set you back $9,400).
But I digress. Back to Atlanta, 1970. At midnight on July 4th, Jimi Hendrix performed to the biggest domestic audience of his career (sadly, just over two months later, he was gone forever). He played a rousing set, which is documented in the excellent 2015 Showtime production, Jimi Hendrix: Electric Church (currently available on Showtime’s In-Demand feature, if you haven’t caught it yet). Hendrix included his idiosyncratic “Star Spangled Banner” salute (how could he not do it on the Fourth?), with fireworks. Pretty awesome stuff.
Unfortunately, despite the “right of the people peaceably to assemble” (not to mention that whole freedom of expression thing) someone didn’t find Jimi’s paean so awesome (there’s one in every crowd). The “someone”? Governor Lester Maddox. Two days after the festival, he announced he was going to push for legislation to ban any future such DFH events in his state. Because you know…freedom.
This year, 400 since the death of Shakespeare and 90 since the birth of Elizabeth II, is also the 50th anniversary of Swinging London, a time and place that produced the British Invasion rock bands, Georgy Girl and Darling, Twiggy and The Shrimp and the miniskirt.
In the 1960s, London — epitome of everything hierarchical, traditional and stodgy — was the site of a revolution in music, fashion and design. Lords partied with bricklayers, rockers with gangsters. Anything seemed possible.
The scene was made famous by an April 1966 Time magazine cover story, titled “The city that swings.’’ It described a place where “ancient elegance and new opulence are all tangled up in a dazzling blur of op and pop.’’
[…]
The 50th anniversary of Swinging London is being marked at a Saatchi Gallery show of Stones memorabilia. Jimi Hendrix’ old flat (once Handel’s attic) has opened to tourists.This summer the Victoria & Albert Museum begins an exhibition, You Say You Want a Revolution?
Yeaahh, baby!
I’m a bit of an Anglophile; I particularly love the British music, films and TV shows of that era. In fact, 1966 was a watershed year for British cinema: Alfie, After the Fox, The Deadly Affair, Fahrenheit 451, Funeral in Berlin, Georgy Girl, A Man For All Seasons, The Wrong Box, and of course, Antonioni’s Blow-Up. Here’s my favorite scene:
As for the most memorable UK TV show of ’66, 2 words: Emma Peel!
And lest we forget the fab UK music of ’66…here are my top picks:
Now if you will excuse me, it’s time for my tea and bickie. Cheers!
I said life is just a game, we’re all just the same
Do you want to play?
2016…the year the music died. Or at least it’s starting to feel that way. It’s all too much.
What can you say about Prince Rogers Nelson? If anyone could be labelled the “American David Bowie”, I’d wager this ever-evolving musical chameleon comes damn close. He was a true iconoclast. He was an amazingly gifted songwriter, vocalist and musician who could effortlessly segue from funk to rock, soul to psychedelia, R&B to jazz, hip-hop to techno…you name it. It’s as if he was created by a mad scientist who wanted to see what happens if you take DNA from Sly Stone, Paul McCartney, James Brown, Todd Rundgren, Jimi Hendrix, Stevie Wonder-and toss it all into a super collider.
His foray into cinema was more of a bumpy ride. Still, I have a soft spot for his semi-autobiographical 1984 vehicle, Purple Rain. While it is uneven from a narrative standpoint, the soundtrack is genius, a truly superlative song cycle in Prince’s canon. His 1986 “vanity project” Under the Cherry Moon, however, kind of put the kibosh on his acting career. It challenges Ishtar for title of Most Critically Drubbed Film of All Time. Still, its critics-to-audience score ratio on Rotten Tomatoes tells an interesting story. Only 25% of the critics “liked” it…but the audience score is 69%. As one critic wrote: “Strictly for Prince fans — but then again I am one.” Ditto. Obviously, he struck a chord.
(*sigh*) It’s getting crowded up there. Now George can thank him for this heartfelt solo:
Now cracks a noble heart. Good night, sweet prince.
And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.
###
UPDATE: Wow. On CNN tonight, even Stevie Wonder was at a loss for words:
Stevie Wonder Thursday described Prince as “a great musician, a great producer, great song writer” — and was nearly overcome with emotion when asked to perform something that reminded him of the music icon who died at age 57.
“I think I would probably break down if I do a song right now,” Wonder told Anderson Cooper on CNN in during an interview from his Los Angeles home.
Prince, who was pronounced dead after collapsing in his Minnesota home, once described Wonder, 65, as a role model and an inspiration. “He was incredible,” Wonder told Cooper. “I’m just glad I was able to say to him I love you the last time I saw him.”
The performers had appeared together on several occasions, including the BET Awards in 2006 and in Paris four years later.
“The times we did jam together were amazing,” Wonder said.
He described Prince as “someone who allowed himself to be himself and encouraged others to be themselves.
“He was very free — and to do what he did without fear was a wonderful thing because it’s always great. It is always great when we don’t allow fear to put our dreams to sleep — and he didn’t.”
Wonder cited 1984’s “Purple Rain” as his favorite — “the whole album was incredible” — adding that Prince “was able to mix the blessing of life of God and, yet, the marriage of sex and passion.
He had fun doing it,” Wonder said. “It is rare for me that I can feel with every single breath how he just passionately loved music.”
1947-2016
And lest we forget the fab UK music of ’66…here are my top picks: