Gratitude while they’re still alive…

The last couple of years have been really big on celebrity deaths. What’s been odd for me is that I realized I don’t really understand what emotional profile an artist has for me until he or she is gone. This is all the worse with rock stars, who project an image of eternal youth and vitality that is of course far from the truth.

The three recent deaths that affected me the most were the deaths of Robin Williams, Bowie, and Prince. Lemmy’s death was sad for me, but it was more like losing a weird uncle: your family just got a lot more boring and you wish you’d appreciated him more when you had him. The death of the last remaining original member of the Ramones hit a little harder.

I think that Prince, Robin Williams, and Bowie affected me so much because they’ve been a part of my life since my early teen years. I remember watching Williams on Happy Days and then Mork and Mindy:

I remember listening to Bowie on the radio since about the mid-70s and then seeing him on Saturday Night Live in 1979. I watched him up there in that purple skirt as the episode was being aired and thought… dude, you’re so weird:

And I hate to say it, but my earliest memories of Prince weren’t of Purple Rain. They were of the campy Batman stuff he did in the late 1980s:

This is a long time to have people form a part of your cultural background, and regardless of taste or preference, they possessed a rare level of genius and creativity. I think I took them for granted at the time, but after seeing many actors and musicians cycle through pop culture, these three stand out as genius.

What affected me the most after the fact of Prince’s death was the universal outpouring of love and grief afterwards. Could he have possibly known how people felt? I don’t know. Of his last twelve albums, one was platinum and two were gold (but six were top 10). I haven’t picked up a Prince album since Musicology, his last platinum album released in 2004. But still, I felt his death. I felt like something significant was lost — a certain level of genius that isn’t easily replaced, exactly what I felt about Bowie, who I had at least followed more consistently over the last twenty years. I was excited about Blackstar and loved that the video generated almost a million hits its first twenty-four hours on YouTube.

So I’m mostly wishing I’d appreciated Prince more. Paid more attention, watched what he was doing, listened to what he had to say, because he had (and still has, really) things to say. I hope he had people around him who let him feel that love and appreciation.

So now, in the most morbid possible tribute, I’m going to express appreciation for a few aging geniuses here.

Chrissie Hynde (b. 1951, turning 65 this year). Her latest album is Stockholm, and I’ve heard her next project will be a joint project with the lead guitarist for the Black Keys. That’s the best news I’ve heard in some time. She exemplifies paying your dues, taking risks, and saying exactly how you feel.

Patti Smith (b. 1946, turning 70 this year). She’s a poet, author, painter, photographer, songwriter, and rock star, and she released what is arguably the best album of her life in 2012, Banga:

Jeff Beck (b. 1944, turning 72 this year). He’s been amazing since the 60s. If you can catch his performances for the Rock Hall anniversary concert, do it. They’re on Apple Music:

Keith Richards (b. 1943, turning 73 this year). Just released a great blues/blues rock solo album (Crosseyed Heart) accompanied by a documentary. He knows he’s getting old, and he just wanted to tell everyone how grateful he was for the blues artists who inspired him:

Bob Dylan (b. 1941, turned 74 this year). His late career albums have been focused upon what his career has been always focused upon: Americana. He’s always paid tribute to great American music, either by performing it or reinventing it. He is our true poet laureate:

Buddy Guy (b. 1936, turning 80 this year): With the death of B.B. King — who if you’ve ever seen him live was the model of a gentleman — may be the last of our old great blues guitarists. I saw him at his club in Chicago in 2012. He mocked pyrotechnics in guitar playing, wiping his arse with his guitar while he was performing Hendrix licks (all the while praising Hendrix’s talent), this man can still play. Check out his latest album, Born to Play Guitar, which won a deserved grammy for Best Blues Guitar Album:

I could go on — Jagger and all of the rest of the Stones are getting old. So are the remaining members of Pink Floyd and the Doors. Springsteen will be turning 67 this year, Chuck Berry is 89, while Pete Townshend and Roger Daltrey are 70 and 72, respectively, while McCartney and Ringo Starr are 73 and 75. And I haven’t mentioned the Ramones, whose last original member recently passed away.

These musicians all came into their careers during a time when the music industry — though just as sold out as it always was — was looking for a new sound. Now it’s harder. Music companies are only looking to sell to a defined demographic and probably know just how many downloads (or streams) any given artist is expected to get. Remember: anyone in it for the money will always play it safe. Genius has less room to flourish now, and all members of the first three groundbreaking generations of rock and roll may well be completely gone in the next ten to fifteen years. Even the 80s stars are getting old: Debbie Harry is 70 while the Mothersbaugh brothers of Devo are in their 60s.

So what are we going to do with this vacuum? What will take its place? What will we do to nurture future genius? Rock and roll has encapsulated all human energies for decades now: our rages, fears, loves, hates, and passions. It screams about God and sex and politics. It’s been sold out and whored for every dime it could squeeze out of every kid who ever bought a record since the 1950s, but it has still maintained a purity and intensity of expression: no matter what happens, strictures could never contain it. Whenever it has become predictable it rebelled against itself, reinventing music over and over again. It’s been our vehicle for the uncontainable, the inexpressible, and that which can’t be bought. If it ever is finally tamed, we may well be lost.

Apple Music Playlist: Cool Acoustic

I’ve subscribed to Apple Music recently and have started creating — or rather, recreating — my iPod playlists and sharing them. This post is an experiment in embedding a link to them in WordPress. If you subscribe to Apple Music, you should be able to view and listen to the playlist in iTunes or Apple Music by clicking on the link. If you’re not an Apple Music subscriber, you can view the list in the image below. Click on the top left image if the text is too difficult to read in your browser as it displays below.

Apple Music Playlist by Jim Rovira: Cool Acoustic.

Best Episode of Dharma and Greg

I just finished watching Dharma and Greg season 3, episode 4. If you’re unfamiliar with the series, it’s by Big Bang Theory creator Chuck Lorre. It ran from 1997 to 2002, and it explores many of the same kinds of relationships explored in Big Bang Theory, particularly that of the free-spirited woman in a relationship with an uptight man. You might think of Big Bang Theory as Dharma and Greg combined with Friends. There’s a subplot in this particular episode in which Dharma joins a garage band run by teenage boys just to get away from her husband, who as an out of work lawyer starts arguing with anyone and everyone because he has no other outlet for his skills. She gets fired from the garage band and then goes to audition for another one — which happens to be Bob Dylan’s band featuring T. Bone Burnett, Joe Walsh and others, really. Jenna Elfman, who plays Dharma, plays the drums, so jams with them. Check it out.

If the video doesn’t queue directly to episode 4, just click on the drop-down menu in the upper left hand corner of the YouTube window and select episode 4, “Play Lady Play.”

Mongolian Folk Metal: Tengger Cavalry

Yes, there is such a thing as Mongolian Folk Metal, and it is being performed by the band Tengger Cavalry. It’s post-Metallica heavy metal combined with Mongolian folk instrumentation, which gives the band a feel and sound something like Kansas or Yes playing heavy metal or Porcupine Tree with more diverse instrumentation. In the five songs I’ve listened to on their new album, Blood Sacrifice Shaman, there aren’t so much vocals as there are vocal stylizations: vocals are being used like another musical instrument. Seriously rocks, well put-together. Check it out. You can stream their entire album on the website linked above.

If you’d like to explore world folk metals, check out this video:

If anyone would like to write an essay about folk metal and Romanticism, check out the CFP.