Prince death poignant point on how music fills our lives
Surely you remember where you were, what you were doing, when you first heard of such earth-shattering events as the Sept. 11 attack or Challenger disaster?
Those moments etched in time have their musical components, too. Don't we all have vivid memories of exactly what was going on when we heard an amazing song for the first time? My oldest such recollection is lying in bed while home sick from elementary school, when the Beatles' "I Want to Hold Your Hand" came on the radio. An early '70s song moment was "Take it Easy" by the Eagles (driving home from a summer job).
Then came the more sobering forever moments when our musical heroes started to die on us. Elvis, of course. But what could compare to the shock of Howard Cosell interrupting Monday Night Football to announce John Lennon had been shot to death?
Those moments can be intensely personal. For me, it was Harry Chapin, for whose "story songs," such as "Taxi," I paid good money to see performed live on several occasions. His 1981 death in a horrific traffic accident was announced in the Daily Herald newsroom, and someone - in legendary newsroom graveyard humor - asked, "Oh, was he in a taxi?" That was only a few months after Lennon's death, and as much a fan as I was, still am, of the Beatles, I was more shaken by the death of balladeer Chapin.
Ditto Glenn Frey. Of the myriad deaths of music legends this year, his is the one that most took the wind out of me. Again, purely personal. Frey didn't have much of a career when the Eagles were in their breakup periods, but his lead vocals on such songs as "Take it Easy" and "Peaceful Easy Feeling" will be with me forever. And, yes, I'm acutely aware that the Eagles were a band many loved to hate: too commercial, too pop-driven.
In fact, a stream of online nastiness quickly followed news of Frey's death. There was far more praise, mourning, for the more iconic musicians who died this year: David Bowie, Maurice White, Merle Haggard, and just this past week, Prince. Witness our two consecutive days of Page 1 coverage of Prince's passing. Admittedly we had a pretty good local angle: A Prince tribute band's Friday night appearance in St. Charles suddenly got real popular.
Scores of rock stars died young; the drugs and reckless lifestyle seem to have come with the territory. But now, it seems we more commonly lose our legends to natural causes, even if at an unexpectedly young age. Country icon Haggard and Earth, Wind and Fire's White were in their 70s, but Bowie was 69, Frey was 67, and Prince was 57. His cause of death was unknown as I write this, but Frey, a workout fiend, died from complications of a host of ailments; Bowie quietly fought cancer.
It's all fairly depressing, to see these larger-than-life musicians pass us by.
And, yet.
Especially for us Baby Boomers, how cool is it that we have more than music memories to hang onto? And, how cool is it that so many of them continue to hone their craft well after they could have hung up the guitar for good? What was dismissed in the '50s and '60s as a passing fad today defines our culture in so many ways, bridges the gap between generations. My 26-year-old son and I have attended numerous concerts together, from still-active musicians of my generation that he genuinely enjoys (Springsteen, Clapton, Smithereens) to groups I truly love that I never would have heard of without him (Dawes, Avett Brothers).
And what, you may ask, does all this pop music reminiscing have to do with the newspaper business?
Just this: The Daily Herald Summer Fun Guide publishes next month. In it, you'll see the plethora of music-driven festivals we're so fortunate to have in the suburbs. From Willie Nelson to Sister Hazel, there's sure to be something for everyone.
Don't let the music pass you by.
jdavis@dailyherald.