Returning on a road trip from a family vacation playing old favorites off a USB drive. That is, before my daughter took over the playlist and it became just the right amount of Taylor Swift. As we were powered thru Fountains of Wayne's eponymous debut album (top to bottom - all bangers - and sorry, that means NO Stacy's Mom), I started thinking about how so many of my musical heroes are dead or will one day die soon.
For me it (obviously) started with the passing of Kurt Cobain (1994, b.1967) when I was in junior high, whose music - and passing - changed my, and so many of my generation X's worldview.
"I love myself, better than you. I know it's wrong, so what should I do?"
George Harrison + Miles Davis died in my lifetime (1991 + 2001 respectively), and upon reflection - were other big ones. Yet it happened before I knew what a big deal they would become for me musically.
But increasingly so, the rock-and-rollers of my youth - most of whom were in their 20s and 30s when I was a teen coming of age, are dying early or after long lived lives. And every time I hear their music - however happy or sad - it makes me full of a remorse. But it is not born out of a true grief from their passing. We may have felt that we knew them because of their music, but how could we truly have known them? Rather it's a bigger sense of loss, one for the world. And the fact that I guess I too am getting older and will one day not be here. So here we are.
Elliot Smith (2003, b.1969)
This was the first one to really hit me really hard. It was at the beginning of my career, and his sad but sometimes hopeful music carried me through some of my darkest moments just a few years earlier.
"You're no good, can't you tell that it's well understood? I'm never gonna know you now, but I'm gonna love you anyhow."
Adam Yauch (aka Ad Rock, 2012, b.1964).
If Kurt Cobain was the voice of a generation, the Beastie Boys were all of our consistent back beat. It hurts to know that one of the most consequential bands of my generation would never rock out again, but I think i join many of us in smiling to know their influence is felt, and heard every day. FWIW, "Intergalactic" played in the afore-mentioned road-trip and i saw my son and daughter bobbing and dancing in the rearview mirror. because it still slaps.
"I can't stand it, I know you planned it, I'ma set it straight, this Watergate. I can't stand rockin' when I'm in here, 'cause your crystal ball ain't so crystal clear."
Chris Cornell (2017, b.1964)
Sure he rocked my nineties hard with Soundgarden, but his wistful crooning took on a new depth as the front man of Audioslave. I still can not listen to "I am the Highway" and not tear up. A few weeks back, I was driving my daughter (8) home from something as it started playing as we pulled up to our house. I had her sit with me in the car as we let it finish, and I explained to her about him. Probably the moment of inspiration for this very post.
"I am not your blowing wind, I am the lightning. I am not your autumn moon, I am the night, the night. I am not your rolling wheels, I am the highway. I am not your carpet ride, I am the sky."
Tom Petty (2017, b.1950)
Another one that hit me too hard. Tom from Gainesville has been part of the soundtrack to my entire life since I began to develop my own tastes in music - thanks to an ahead-of-her-time-girl named Jessica and the BMG/Columbia House Music Club (+my eventual discovery of college used CD stores FTW). When he passed it was 2019 and the "we can survive this moment" of a bygone political era. Tom Petty's lyrics and hopefulness had always been there for me and to have him leave us (too soon but at the right time) in such a dark moment was tough.
"All the vampires walkin' through the valley, move west down Ventura Boulevard. And all the bad boys are standing in the shadows, and the good girls are home with broken hearts....I'm gonna free fall out into nothin', gonna leave this world for a while."
Dolores O'Riordan (2018, b.1971)
The Cranberries were one of the first bands I chose to like when no one else in my crowd was into them. I talk a lot about anthems - but "Linger" was one for the proto-emo depths i tended to wallow in for my teen years. I'm pretty sure I was Irish in another life. As I got older, her music was a reminder of that time, and how far I'd come, for which I was grateful. I avoided seeing them live because I knew it might be too emotional experience for me to awkwardly relive my youth. And then like that, she was suddenly gone
"Oh, I thought the world of you. I thought nothing could go wrong. But I was wrong, I was wrong."
Adam Schlesinger (2020, b.1967).
One of the first famous (to me) deaths of the COVID era. In such a moment of darkness, someone whose band, Fountains of Wayne, brought me so much light. It was just too soon and too much for me to bear on my many socially distant walks through my neighborhood, remembering a better time.
"Cars on the highway, planes in the air, everyone else is going somewhere. But I'm going nowhere, getting there soon, I might as well just sink down with you."
Coolio (2022, b. 1963)
Before Snoop became a mascot for our nostalgia, there was Coolio on his big wheels riding around the neighborhood (and later on teaching Michelle Pfeiffer a thing or two about a thing or two). And his passing for me felt like a piece of pop culture fell off the map. Even in his happiest tracks there was a dark commentary just under the surface.
"Come along and ride on a fantastic voyage -Slide, slide, slippity-slide. When you're livin' in the city, it's do or die. Come along and ride on a fantastic voyage - Slide, slide, hoo ride - you better be ready when the five roll by."
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Here's a(nother) dark thought I often wonder about: Who the other artists are that will make me weep again with their passing? Just to name a few, in a somewhat preferential* order: Glen Phillips (Toad the Wet Sprocket), Ben Folds, Eddie Vetter (Pearl Jam), Bob Dylan, Paul McCartney, Rivers Cuomo (Weezer), Damon Albarn (Blur, Gorillaz), Anthony Kiedis (Red Hot Chili Peppers), Pharrell Williams (N.E.R.D.), Brendan Benson, Sting, Jack White, Bruce Springsteen, Phil Collins, Julian Casablancas (the Strokes) and yep, for some reason even Brandon Flowers (the Killers) - given their anthems to so many of our late 20s / early 30s. But I hope they all live to be old men touring on all our nostalgia.
*(preference for their music and impact their passing will have on me, not preference for them to die, because i don't want to lose any of them)
And yes, I find it weird that so many of this off-the-top-of-my-head-list are white men. Why aren't there as many people of color - or more importantly women - that immediately come to mind? Is it simply that the popular music that defined me is a mans world? It's a blind spot I openly acknowledge, and am always trying to do better with - but our musical tastes really set in during our teens and twenties, and I am so far past that part of my life. But if I had to say a few Tina Turner (2023, b. 1963) was the only passing that hit me, because like so many, she was anthemic to my childhood. And I know there are so many more to come - from Alanis to Amos, from Sarah McLachlan to Natalie Merchant, from Kim Deal to Neko Case. And I guess I would have to add Natalie Imbruglia - only bc of a longstanding infatuation I once had. Sorry, not sorry, but I was once a teen boy with lots of crushes. One could say I was...Torn?
In closing reflection, i guess I have to interrogate what is the litmus test of which musicians I care most about here? I think it's who I will tell my kids about so they know it's a big deal (to me at least, but frankly the world). I guess that's how traditions of understanding and legend are passed along.
I'm curious to hear whose passing impacted you, or who you can't bear to lose anytime soon. Let me know.
