....apparently he was quite famous....
Sometimes I feel I
should leave my laptop drying out in a bowl of rice overnight, such
is the lachrimosity that floods the social media these days. We are
awash in tears for people who have got old and gone and died. That is
sooooo unfair...
To me this seems now to
have reached epidemic and embarrassing proportions in the music
world. Suddenly it seems as though - for some quick-fingered posters
- The End must be Nigh. A lot of old people are dying and every time
one of them, keels over, pops their clogs, goes off to meet their
maker and shakes hands in a sun-drenched far distant place full of
Marshall amps and free beer, it seems as though it has become
incumbent on everyone with access to a keyboard to offer up
condolences, a YouTube clip, a reminiscence or just a straightforward
RIP Full Stop.
Don't misunderstand me.
I don't have a problem with displays of genuine grief. I have been
there. Whatever the circumstances, the personal loss is shattering.
The family, friends and acquaintances left behind can be devastated.
Indeed, whether or not you knew them, the loss of someone who
affected your life, was a personal inspiration or even simply brought
about a sea-change in your attitudes can be easily understood.
However, it now seems
to have become mandatory, obligatory, essential to pass comment -
even if you only hear about the death through a fourth generation
Shared Post and a quick check on Wikipedia. Er, who was he/she? Ah,
yes, got it - now where's my keyboard...
The Public Automatic Response Condolence Note has become the Printed Selfie. Look at me. I am a sensitive and
clued up music person. Check me out. I am a Leading Edge In Touch
music buff – and here is my certificate of authenticity....RIP - or
Whatever....
I am not a hard-hearted
misery but quite frankly, I am not interested in reading about Geoff
Blog's life-changing moment when he once saw a recently dead bandsman
at a concert at The Rainbow before they turned it into a church in Nineteen
Hundred and Freezing. Any more than I am interested in hearing about
how a radio 'personality' once rubbed shoulders with the deceased at
a concert freebee...oooh listen to me, I am famous by association...
Stop. Don't bring your memes into my house.
Look a bit closer. The
deceased was 76. He/she hadn't played or sung publicly for decades.
They may have been seriously unwell for many years. In addition, many
of them might well have imbibed, sniffed and injected every substance
known to man on their way to a cheerful 76. You didn't know them. You
never met them and the fact that their stonking early music was good
and, in its day influential, does not give you automatic ownership of
the grief being suffered by those close to them. How would you feel
if you were in mourning and an illiterate body snatcher came to the
wake?
Guess what? This year a
lot of old people have died. Certainly some of them did indeed bring
about huge changes in our musical landscape and the sense of loss
is mighty and deserving of remembrance. You will all know who they
are.
I am affected, just
like everyone else. However, most of them seemed to have had long and
interesting lives. Most of the recent losses were of people aged 67,
71, 75, 80 and even 94. Because, for the most part, the age of
24hour rocknroll degeneracy has now virtually disappeared, few of them die young and join the tragic 27 club. It should come as no surprise
that many musicians born in the Forties who produced world changing
music in the Sixties are now getting old and vulnerable. Listen. That
whole generation of musicians, the one that seems to have influenced
so many who came after them are now reaching their old age and you
need to get your head round the fact that the music Statistics Are Not On
Their Side. It's time everybody got used to the idea that quite a lot of old people die when they get old. Yes, of course it is
sad but I can get my own sackcloth and ashes. I don't need yours all
over my inbox.
A while back, a blog I
wrote about big Barry Middleton - the popular club manager and British
Blues Awards Organiser - and his contribution to the blues world, went viral and was posted thousands of times around the globe. It was
shared by people, not because of their personal loss, but because of
what Barry represented and because people realised how the Barrys of
this world really did make a difference. There were no claims of
ownership, there was no hi-jacking of grief. There was, however a
joyful acknowledgement of the contribution of all the Barrys world
wide. That is how it should be. So keep your Instant Crocodiles out
of my in-box...
As for me? Well my intelligent, streetwise children and friends have clear instructions to 'roll me up and smoke me when I die' and of course, I have already written a very long flattering obituary of Me Me Me which will be shared with anybody who has a keyboard.....
As for me? Well my intelligent, streetwise children and friends have clear instructions to 'roll me up and smoke me when I die' and of course, I have already written a very long flattering obituary of Me Me Me which will be shared with anybody who has a keyboard.....
Pip Pip!
The Blues Man in The
Hat
(Names of famous dead old people have been deliberately omitted from this blog)