Disappearing Acts

Sometimes ideas for lists must seem good until you try to populate them.  Take Rolling Stone’s 13 Rock Stars Who Disappeared list, for example.

Not all rock stars burn out.  Some fade away.  Some gracefully withdraw.  And when they command our attention for so long, we do want to know what happened.  So cool idea.

Then Rolling Stone tries to add an additional twist by measuring people against the (Syd) “Barret Scale”, using him as the benchmark for rock star dropout reclusive weirdness.

Cool idea, but it weakens the argument for including many names on the list.  The article admits that Fats Domino is “more retired than reclusive.”  After making a big deal of what sounds like the mysterious departure of David Bowie, it then admits “it's hard to be a true recluse while you're posing for red carpet photos with your supermodel spouse.”  OK then.

Billy Joel, Grace Slick, The Everly Brothers  -  these people are retired.  John Deacon knew that Queen died with Freddie, so he is smart.  John Frusciante definitely registers on the “Barrett Scale,” but not many of the other names do.  If they really wanted to use this “Barrett Scale,” why didn’t they include Peter Green?  He’s been lurking in the shadows so long the scale could be named after him!

But Joni Mitchell?  She’s always done her own thing.   Sly Stone?  Maybe he sensed he had overstayed his welcome, or used up more than his fair share of public consciousness.

An interesting variation on the list might have been rock stars that walked away while on top:  Little Richard, Conway Twitty, Dave Clark, Linda Ronstadt.  Barrett, Green and Frusciante definitely belong on that list.

Postscript: since the list came out, Bowie actually released a new single and announced a new album.  Not terribly reclusive, then, is it?

A Change’ll Do You Good

A sad but inevitable (inescapable?  inexorable?) truth in music is that the line ups of our favourite bands keep changing.  Gibson’s 10 Bands That Changed Singers ... and Won deals with this reality, and reminds us that change is not always a bad thing.

Here’s the list:  Deep Purple, Van Halen, AC/DC, Faith No More, Judas Priest, Journey, Iron Maiden, Fleetwood Mac, Genesis, Pink Floyd.

Winning seems to mean, “enjoyed increased commercial success,” so that ducks the question of whether the band actually got better.  For a lot of these transitions, it’s debatable whether the band improved, especially in the eyes of their existing fans.

David Lee Roth for Sammy Hagar?  Not sure.  Bon Scott for Brian Johnson?  I think so, but many wouldn’t.  Syd Barrett for David Gilmour?  Well, for me, Floyd’s music was finally approachable with Waters and Gilmour at the helm, and maybe that illustrates the problem with “winning.”  Commercial success means, well, “more commercial” (ya I know we’re talking about Pink Floyd but everything is relative).

Take Genesis.  By the time Collins is through with them, a (some would say) pretentious prog rock band becomes a pop act.  Makes you wonder how much of the original fan base was still around to celebrate the victory.

Or take Fleetwood Mac.  Trying to reconcile the dichotomy between the Peter Green and the Buckingham/Nicks eras, the article suggests that FM is “arguably not a band, but a brand.”   Maybe, but don’t brands have a core sound/image/look/feel/quality/certain-something that is supposed to endure and is therefore protected?  I would suggest that Fleetwood Mac is not a brand, but simply a name that got re-used.

The most interesting case for me is that of Deep Purple.  No question that Ian Gillan was an improvement over Rod Evans, and their popularity certainly jumped with the change.  But there was something very cool about those early albums.  I felt at the time, and I guess I still feel now, that they made the switch to try and sound more like Led Zeppelin.  They succeeded, and it was great and all, but they also lost some Deep Purpleness in the process.  They might have become highway stars, but the bird had flown.

Excitable Boys

Gibson has this fun list called Mad Geniuses: 10 Brilliantly Eccentric Musicians.  People, so they say, “who seem wired differently from the rest of us.”

It’s a matter of degree, I suppose, but you could probably say that about most artists.

Here’s the list: Roky Erikson, Peter Green, Brian Wilson, Prince, Joe South, Phil Spector, Wayne Coyne, Scott Walker, Skip Spence, Syd Barrett.

Don’t pretend to know much about many on this list, but what I do know about the ones I do know about tells me that drugs might have a thing or two more to do with the madness than any innate wiring.

Whatever the cause, it’s too bad we lost Peter Green, one of the best guitarists of all time who just happened to also be a great singer and songwriter.  Who knows what he could have accomplished?

Can’t say I agree with Phil Spector’s inclusion on this list, and not just because I’ve never been a “wall of sound” fan.  Just suggesting there is bit of a difference between mad genius and sick creep, you know?