Today marks the date of the murder of Sal Mineo, and if you remember who that guy is, I’m impressed with you. Yeah, you. Congratulations. Mineo remains a mysterious figure of ambiguous sexuality, a man who achieved great fame, lost it, and was on the verge of getting it back when the unthinkable happened.
Dear rock and roll musicians:
Please stop using air travel.
Thanks,
Everybody
This is The Day The Music Died.
By Tim Murr
It’s only been a few days since actor Angus Scrimm died at the age of 89. Though he also worked outside of the franchise, it was the Phantasm series, in which he played the Tall Man, that made Mr. Scrimm a horror household name. His final film, Phantasm: RaVager, is set to be released sometime this year.
When I went to sleep, David Bowie was alive. When I awoke, he was not. Strange, the way things slip.
Knock on the walls. Flick your coffee cup with your fingernail. Stomp on the floor. Do you hear it? Something’s missing. There is a hollowness to the world now, with Bowie gone.
Frank Zappa died today in 1993.
Calling Frank Zappa “influential” is like saying ghost peppers will leave a mild burning sensation in your mouth after you eat them. It’s like saying water is wet. The sky is blue. The legend and legacy of Frank Zappa are elemental. He took music and made it his bitch.
His beautiful, happy, gleaming and weeping submissive bitch.
“I thought he was already dead.”
The internet response to the passing of singer Scott Weiland has been somewhat disheartening to observe. Instead of focusing on the fact that a human being has died, one who had a tremendous impact on an entire generation of music fans, the choice has been made to focus on the fact that Weiland did drugs. Scott Weiland’s dead? It must have been an overdose.
By Tim Murr
The Best of The Velvet Underground: The Words and Music of Lou Reed blew my mind freshman year of high school. It was already a bit of a watershed year, anyway, when I first heard a lot of punk and industrial music for the first time, not to mention Nirvana’s breakthrough. My friend had made a pilgrimage to Knoxville (our closest big city) to buy some Velvet Underground based on an older friend’s recommendation. He returned like Moses down from the mountain with the precious plastic cassette that would launch multiple garage bands.
“You’ve got to hear this,” he said pressing the tape into my hand.
Nevermind came out of my Sony Walkman and BAM! The Velvets had their hooks in me. “Waiting For The Man” and “Run, Run, Run” were so primitive and raw and not at all what I knew and/or assumed about ’60s music.
Photo by Patrick Houdek
When I heard the news that Bill Bartell had died, I felt like I’d been kicked in the guts. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to a world without him in it.
I first met Bill in 1994, when White Flag played a show in New Orleans. The exact date and location escapes me (but no doubt, Bill, with his insanely proficient memory would remember). I went with a friend and we both wore Redd Kross T-shirts in an attempt to “impress” him. Haha, if only I had known.
By Emily Carney
I am shocked to learn that Martin Rushent, perhaps one of the most iconic Punk/New Wave producers of the late 1970s and early 1980s, died on June 4 of this year. I was supposed to interview Martin via Skype a couple of years back; as it was, our extremely busy schedules prevented this from happening. Although I didn’t know him well, Martin gave the impression of being a personable, eminently cool man who just happened to have produced some of the best, most seminal records of the New Wave era. Martin was more than willing to discuss his interests with his fans and followers, which I find admirable.
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By Cait Brennan
As Doctor Who fans prepared to celebrate the launch of its most anticipated series yet, the show lost one of its most enduring stars. Elisabeth Sladen, who portrayed Sarah Jane Smith, died April 19, leaving behind generations of fans and a legacy as one of the most popular characters in science fiction history.
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