It's an ever-so-slightly snowy Sunday afternoon here in Michigan and I'm watching the National Football League playoffs, Buffalo Bills vs. Cincinnati Bengals. The Bengals are currently ahead 24-10 in grey, gloomy, snowing suburban Buffalo, New York and all I can think of is how goddamned depressing it will be for those Bills fans if their team loses. I suppose at this point, they are used to it. Between the punishing weather and the sports teams that always break your heart, you have to be a hearty person to live in Buffalo.
I have only been to Buffalo in the summer, and it's a perfectly nice place--in the summer. Seriously, Buffalo has a good art museum (Albright-Knox Art Museum) and an equally good history museum (Buffalo History Museum).
We have had a spate of musician deaths in the last few weeks. Jeff Beck departed to that great concert in the sky on January 10. Though I appreciate Beck's contributions to music, I can't say I was a big fan. I think I might be a generation too young to have immersed myself in his music. I do enjoy the Yardbirds, though--particularly the trippy psychedelic explorations after Eric Clapton left and it was pretty much Jeff Beck's band. Also, the Yardbirds' scene in the film Blow-Up is an all-time classic. If you've never seen it, check it out--it's on YouTube. The Yardbirds perform in this oh-so-chic London club in front of an indifferent crowd. Jeff Beck becomes increasingly frustrated by his amplifier and finally pummels it with his guitar. The spectacle excites the crowd. Future Led Zeppelin superstar Jimmy Page is also in the scene, as this was during his brief stint with the Yardbirds. (By the way, I might have the specific details of the scene slightly wrong, so I apologize in advance).
Two days later, Lisa Marie Presley died. She was about the same age as me, so this was a tough one to take. I do not approve of people dying in their fifties. For all Presley family's fame, that is a family that has dealt with its share of tragedy. Lisa Marie never asked for the fame and constant media attention as Elvis's daughter, and she certainly had her struggles. She seemed to deal with it as best she could. I imagine the suicide death of her son was something she could not overcome (what parent could?) and I also wonder if the intense emotion of the Golden Globe ceremony (in which Austin Butler won an award for his portrayal of Lisa Marie's father) might have exacerbated the health issues she was experiencing.
On a side note, I actually owned Lisa Marie's first album To Whom It May Concern. If I remember correctly, I got the CD as a promo at Schuler Books & Music. It's actually a pretty good record, but I must have dumped it at some point (garage sale maybe?). Of course, now all of Lisa Marie's albums are going for big bucks on eBay, Discogs, etc. If only I'd known, I'd have hung on to it--though I'm not sure I'd want to be part of the ghoulish feeding frenzy taking place now.
The next musical death was somebody not nearly as well known as Jeff Beck or Lisa Marie Presley. Van Conner was the bass player of the criminally underrated band Screaming Trees. Conner was only 55, so there's another person dying in their fifties. Not cool.
Why weren't Screaming Trees as popular as fellow Seattle bands Nirvana, Pearl Jam, or Soundgarden? It may have to do with them not being as photogenic. Screaming Trees looked like a band comprised of a lumberjack and three gas station attendants. Lead vocalist Mark Lanegan was the only "Tree" remotely handsome, and even Lanegan looked a little too terrifying for MTV. The band name fit them perfectly: trees evoking the wilds of the Pacific Northwest, and the music was often "screaming." That said, Screaming Trees were capable of writing achingly emotional and melodic tunes.
Sadly, the Buffalo Bills ARE about to lose this football game, so I shall bid you farewell so I may pass on my condolences to my Bills comrades.
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