Gil Scott Heron Appreciation.

Cosmo

I've been a very big fan of Gil for many years now. That's the wrong way of putting it. His music was pretty much the music of my teenage and early adult years. He is the voice of the city, he is the voice of the everyman, the voice of struggle and desparation, he is the voice of my youth, the voice of the tragedy of the game. This post speaks to me on so many levels I cannot begin to tell you.He came and performed at the Chestnut Cabaret back in the early 90s if I remember correctly, and I was too young to go. Around this time me and my man Espo would always be kicking it up West Philly, and whenever someone who we wanted to see played at CC we would post up on the side door that was outside, but next to the stage, with 40s and listen. Around this time, Steve was the vocalist for a band called Groovy Monster and he did a blistering version of "Home Is Where The Hatred Is." I started DJing at the same time, and this is kind of the climate that forged the type of DJ that I am. The word was out that Gil was messed up on "that stuff" but it didn't really phase me, I always thought of it as ironic that the man who wrote "The Bottle" and "The Get Out Of The Ghetto Blues" would have fallen victim to the scourge of drugs and alcohol. I remember the one and only time I acctually SAW him perform, it was at the Arts Bank in Philly back in 1994. I went by myself because nobody would accompany me, way too cool for school. It was supporting his great and criminally slept on "Spirits" album. I was waiting outside, smoking, and the word was that he had not shown up. People started getting restless and, right as I started to walk in, a yellow cab pulled up on HE got out of the back. A giant. A giant of a man. I was in awe. I was in his shadow. Everyone outside was just humbled. He was huge, taking these long strides towards the side door, decked out in a dashiki, cowboy hat and boots. It was obvious that he had just come from copping, but it didn't matter. HE was here, and he put on an amazing performance that night, with him on keys and vocals, he backing band tight as all hell with the new and old material.Honestly, I'm still in awe. I am not worthy to even speak about him. I'm not worthy to write about him. I'm just not worthy, I'm still just standing in his shadow. We all are.

Gil Scott Heron "Home Is Where The Hatred Is"





And here's an amazing cover version, just to show you how good of a songwriter he is. I opened up my WMFU set with this song this past Friday.

Esther Phillips] "Home Is Where The Hatred Is"

Cosmo

The preceeding post was from another board, and my man Rob AKA Popi Babylon responded with this piece that he wrote about his experience seeing Gil perform live. It is very potent.

Two years ago on a trip to Atlanta, GA I had an opportunity to see a concert by Gil Scott-Heron. Gil Scott-Heron who pioneered Hip Hop ten years too early over a vicious Ron Carter bass-line on "The Revolution Will Not Be Televised." Gil Scott-Heron who published his first book, Small Talk at 125th and Lenox, when he was only 19 years old. Gil Scott-Heron who authored, and delivered with style and conviction, such memorable poems as "Sex Education Ghetto Style," "The H2Ogate Blues," and "No-Knock." Gil Scott-Heron who, with Brian Jackson and the Midnight Band, made some of the greatest and most sampled free-form soul-jazz of all time.

"Don't go," said a friend, a musician and DJ, and no doubt a much more knowledgeable and passionate Gil Scott-Heron fan than I. "He's a crack-head, has been for years. I don't want to see him that way. That is, if he shows up at all???" Here apparently was a case of "Tainting the Memory" that lacked even the least bit of humor.

It's all basically true of course, as a recent New York Times article, occasioned by a possesion arrest, ably pointed out. He's been a functioning cocaine addict for a long time, and his attendance and quality of performance at live appearances has been less than consistent for much of that time. The article also made the claim that, because of drugs, Scott-Heron never fulfilled his artistic potential. True enough, since 1984 he has released but one record of new material, but the man does after all have over a dozen studio albums and a few more live discs to his name, and, by any account, they are all pretty damn good and at least half are bonafide classics. There are plenty of legendary musicians who have made their reputations on considerably less.

At the time I found it all hard to believe. Gil Scott-Heron, one of the most astute and powerful poetic/political voices of the last 30 years, is a crack-head? How could the man who penned such insightful and moving descriptions of addiction as "Home is Where the Hatred Is," "Angel Dust" and "The Bottle" have himself succumbed to those very evils? Not that it's a great surprise that the guy got fucked up, he did admit "It's probably me," at the end of the "The Bottle," but to hear the brother talk he seems like he's got things well figured out and well under control. How could someone who has been so keenly and vocally aware of the way that drugs and alcohol are used to control the poor, let himself be controlled by those same forces? Could he really be, again from "The Bottle," too far gone to have problems? It was all rather frightening and disheartening to say the least.

So I went to the show anyway, unsure of what to expect but hoping for the best. When the man emerged he was trembling and frail, almost emaciated, and he looked much older than his fifty years. He walked in with the help of a cane.

So, not to beat it to death, but to make sure you've got the picture: Gil Scott-Heron has just appeared on stage, barely able to walk and looking every bit the feeble crack-addict he is rumored to be. He sits down at his Fender Rhodes, still trembling mind you, mumbles a few barely intelligible words of greeting and appreciation, (are you nervous yet?), and proceeds to straight up rock it. From the opening stabs of "The Bottle," all trembling was relegated to one spindly leg (which vibrated constantly), and the man played beautifully, funky as all hell, and clearly leading his very tight band--dubbed the Amnesia Express and including none other than saxophonist Bilal Sunni-Ali, a Midnight Band alumnus and former Pharoah Sanders protege.

Then there was Scott-Heron's voice. How a voice that powerful and passionate emerged from a body that weak looking and a mouth missing that many teeth, is truly a marvel. If anything his voice was deeper and more soulful than any vocal he had ever laid to wax. You had to be there. He rocked it for a good two hours, and believe it or not the highlight might have been a relatively new song (and one I had never heard before that night), "Work For Peace," an Angela Davis inspired rant about the economics of war off of his comeback album, 1994's under-rated Spirits.

Imagine this tiny, frail-looking, shell of a man, with this beautiful, deeply resonant and utterly pained voice repeating the simple, heartfelt, mantra of "I don't wanna hurt nobody, I want peace." He sang these eight words over and over and with such conviction that they were undeniable, and the thought of anyone actually wanting to bring harm to another human being was inconceivable. For all his artfully aimed anger and poetic vitriol, Gil-Scott doesn't have a single vicious bone in his drug-ravaged body. He just wants peace, and all the sundry violence and poverty and meanness in the universe, he feels. And it hurts him. Immensely.

Hearing that, I knew. If I felt and understood, truly empathized with, the troubles and injuries and out and out suffering of the world with even a fraction of the weight and completeness that did this brilliant, compassionate, tiny, weakened, witty, lovely man, I would have run away into the protective confines of addiction, or more likely death, long ago. Drugs and The Man have won a great many battles over Gil Scott-Heron, but the fact that he is still out there, struggling and sharing his vision and emotion with the world is a great victory. It is a victory for himself, and for love and peace and soul and music and everything that is right in this fucked-up Whitey on the Moon, buffoon after buffoon in the White House, military and the monetary profiting from our obituary world. And it's a victory for me and you and anyone else lucky enough to have heard any of Gil Scott-Heron's radical, funky, incredibly insightful and emotional music.

Fatback

living in DC and digging, is pretty much following the tracks (literally) of GSH and his fans.

true story. one time i was playing the bottle 12" at a club in DC and this drunk as fuck girl came up with a crispy $50 shoved it at me and said, "please, please take this off and play anything else, i am about to have an aneurysm". i admit, i was broke as fuck at the time and thought about it and then i thought...what would Gil do?

undertheradar

Such a powerful song...

A JUNKIE WALKING THROUGH THE TWILIGHT,
I`M ON MY WAY HOME.

I LEFT THREE DAYS AGO

BUT NO ONE SEEMS TO KNOW

I`M GONE.


HOME IS WHERE THE HATRED IS,

HOME IS FILLED WITH PAIN,

AND IT MIGHT NOT BE SUCH A BAD IDEA

IF I NEVER, NEVER WENT HOME AGAIN.


STAND AS FAR AWAY FROM ME AS YOU CAN,

AND ASK ME WHY.

HANG ON TO YOUR ROSARY BEADS,

CLOSE YOUR EYES TO WATCH ME DIE.


YOU KEEP SAYIN`,

`KICK IT!

QUIT IT!

KICK IT!

QUIT IT!

KICK IT!

QUIT IT!`

GOD, BUT DID YOU EVER TRY

TO TURN YOUR SICK SOUL

INSIDE OUT

SO THAT THE WORLD

CAN WATCH YOU DIE.


HOME IS WHERE I LIVE

INSIDE MY WHITE POWER DREAMS,

HOME WAS ONCE AN EMPTY VACUUM

THAT`S FILLED NOW

WITH MY SILENT SCREAMS.

HOME IS WHERE THE NEEDLE MARKS

TRY TO HEAR MY BROKEN HEART,

AND IT MIGHT NOT BE SUCH A BAD IDEA

IF I NEVER, NEVER WENT HOME AGAIN.


HOME AGAIN,

gravelheadwrap

The preceeding post was from another board, and my man Rob AKA Popi Babylon responded with this piece that he wrote about his experience seeing Gil perform live. It is very potent.

Two years ago on a trip to Atlanta, GA I had an opportunity to see a concert by Gil Scott-Heron. Gil Scott-Heron who pioneered Hip Hop ten years too early over a vicious Ron Carter bass-line on "The Revolution Will Not Be Televised." Gil Scott-Heron who published his first book, Small Talk at 125th and Lenox, when he was only 19 years old. Gil Scott-Heron who authored, and delivered with style and conviction, such memorable poems as "Sex Education Ghetto Style," "The H2Ogate Blues," and "No-Knock." Gil Scott-Heron who, with Brian Jackson and the Midnight Band, made some of the greatest and most sampled free-form soul-jazz of all time.

"Don't go," said a friend, a musician and DJ, and no doubt a much more knowledgeable and passionate Gil Scott-Heron fan than I. "He's a crack-head, has been for years. I don't want to see him that way. That is, if he shows up at all???" Here apparently was a case of "Tainting the Memory" that lacked even the least bit of humor.

It's all basically true of course, as a recent New York Times article, occasioned by a possesion arrest, ably pointed out. He's been a functioning cocaine addict for a long time, and his attendance and quality of performance at live appearances has been less than consistent for much of that time. The article also made the claim that, because of drugs, Scott-Heron never fulfilled his artistic potential. True enough, since 1984 he has released but one record of new material, but the man does after all have over a dozen studio albums and a few more live discs to his name, and, by any account, they are all pretty damn good and at least half are bonafide classics. There are plenty of legendary musicians who have made their reputations on considerably less.

At the time I found it all hard to believe. Gil Scott-Heron, one of the most astute and powerful poetic/political voices of the last 30 years, is a crack-head? How could the man who penned such insightful and moving descriptions of addiction as "Home is Where the Hatred Is," "Angel Dust" and "The Bottle" have himself succumbed to those very evils? Not that it's a great surprise that the guy got fucked up, he did admit "It's probably me," at the end of the "The Bottle," but to hear the brother talk he seems like he's got things well figured out and well under control. How could someone who has been so keenly and vocally aware of the way that drugs and alcohol are used to control the poor, let himself be controlled by those same forces? Could he really be, again from "The Bottle," too far gone to have problems? It was all rather frightening and disheartening to say the least.

So I went to the show anyway, unsure of what to expect but hoping for the best. When the man emerged he was trembling and frail, almost emaciated, and he looked much older than his fifty years. He walked in with the help of a cane.

So, not to beat it to death, but to make sure you've got the picture: Gil Scott-Heron has just appeared on stage, barely able to walk and looking every bit the feeble crack-addict he is rumored to be. He sits down at his Fender Rhodes, still trembling mind you, mumbles a few barely intelligible words of greeting and appreciation, (are you nervous yet?), and proceeds to straight up rock it. From the opening stabs of "The Bottle," all trembling was relegated to one spindly leg (which vibrated constantly), and the man played beautifully, funky as all hell, and clearly leading his very tight band--dubbed the Amnesia Express and including none other than saxophonist Bilal Sunni-Ali, a Midnight Band alumnus and former Pharoah Sanders protege.

Then there was Scott-Heron's voice. How a voice that powerful and passionate emerged from a body that weak looking and a mouth missing that many teeth, is truly a marvel. If anything his voice was deeper and more soulful than any vocal he had ever laid to wax. You had to be there. He rocked it for a good two hours, and believe it or not the highlight might have been a relatively new song (and one I had never heard before that night), "Work For Peace," an Angela Davis inspired rant about the economics of war off of his comeback album, 1994's under-rated Spirits.

Imagine this tiny, frail-looking, shell of a man, with this beautiful, deeply resonant and utterly pained voice repeating the simple, heartfelt, mantra of "I don't wanna hurt nobody, I want peace." He sang these eight words over and over and with such conviction that they were undeniable, and the thought of anyone actually wanting to bring harm to another human being was inconceivable. For all his artfully aimed anger and poetic vitriol, Gil-Scott doesn't have a single vicious bone in his drug-ravaged body. He just wants peace, and all the sundry violence and poverty and meanness in the universe, he feels. And it hurts him. Immensely.

Hearing that, I knew. If I felt and understood, truly empathized with, the troubles and injuries and out and out suffering of the world with even a fraction of the weight and completeness that did this brilliant, compassionate, tiny, weakened, witty, lovely man, I would have run away into the protective confines of addiction, or more likely death, long ago. Drugs and The Man have won a great many battles over Gil Scott-Heron, but the fact that he is still out there, struggling and sharing his vision and emotion with the world is a great victory. It is a victory for himself, and for love and peace and soul and music and everything that is right in this fucked-up Whitey on the Moon, buffoon after buffoon in the White House, military and the monetary profiting from our obituary world. And it's a victory for me and you and anyone else lucky enough to have heard any of Gil Scott-Heron's radical, funky, incredibly insightful and emotional music.

Thanks for that.

Unfortunately I have to take a late pass with Scott-Heron---got into him a few years ago. Pieces of a Man is such a great album, this one I keep on my headphones quite a bit. Love his voice.

Cosmo

For those who need that late pass...

If you want to know a song that GETS ME EVERY TIME, I will tell you.

Gil Scott-Heron "Pieces Of A Man"



No pun intended, but this song tears me to shreds every time I listen to it. Like right now, I'm beside myself.

RAW_HAMBURGER

Such a powerful song...

A JUNKIE WALKING THROUGH THE TWILIGHT,
I`M ON MY WAY HOME.

I LEFT THREE DAYS AGO

BUT NO ONE SEEMS TO KNOW

I`M GONE.


HOME IS WHERE THE HATRED IS,

HOME IS FILLED WITH PAIN,

AND IT MIGHT NOT BE SUCH A BAD IDEA

IF I NEVER, NEVER WENT HOME AGAIN.


STAND AS FAR AWAY FROM ME AS YOU CAN,

AND ASK ME WHY.

HANG ON TO YOUR ROSARY BEADS,

CLOSE YOUR EYES TO WATCH ME DIE.


YOU KEEP SAYIN`,

`KICK IT!

QUIT IT!

KICK IT!

QUIT IT!

KICK IT!

QUIT IT!`

GOD, BUT DID YOU EVER TRY

TO TURN YOUR SICK SOUL

INSIDE OUT

SO THAT THE WORLD

CAN WATCH YOU DIE.


HOME IS WHERE I LIVE

INSIDE MY WHITE POWER DREAMS,

HOME WAS ONCE AN EMPTY VACUUM

THAT`S FILLED NOW

WITH MY SILENT SCREAMS.

HOME IS WHERE THE NEEDLE MARKS

TRY TO HEAR MY BROKEN HEART,

AND IT MIGHT NOT BE SUCH A BAD IDEA

IF I NEVER, NEVER WENT HOME AGAIN.


HOME AGAIN,

i read an interview with esther, where she was talking about her first meeting w/ gil. she was saying since she was a junkie... she just knew he had to be one too, from his music/ words.
dude is the man.

i saw the thunder and heard the lightning- thats that shit.

m_dejean

One of the undisputed greats. I saw him in '94 just after the release of "Spirits" just like the guy in the first account AI posted, and my experience was quite similar to the one the poster describes. Only time I've EVAR asked for an autograph after a show.

I bought the "Black Wax" docu recently on recommendation from a strutter (I think it was troubleman), and to anyone who hasn't seen it: please to acquire or watch any which way. Very necessary.

tonyphrone

acctually i support his whole catalog...

Mad Drama Teacher

Cosmo, what do you think of his and Brian Jackson's 1980?

Cosmo

That's the album I was listening to when I posted this thread.

hendravis

i support his whole catalog...

listenin to We Almost Lost Detroit

thanks for the Home Is Where The Hatred Is cover!

Honestly, I'm still in awe. I am not worthy to even speak about him. I'm not worthy to write about him. I'm just not worthy, I'm still just standing in his shadow. We all are.

Gil Scott Heron[/b] "Home Is Where The Hatred Is"


And here's an amazing cover version, just to show you how good of a songwriter he is. I opened up my WMFU set with this song this past Friday.

Esther Phillips[/b] "Home Is Where The Hatred Is"

Such a powerful song...

A JUNKIE WALKING THROUGH THE TWILIGHT,
I`M ON MY WAY HOME.

I LEFT THREE DAYS AGO

BUT NO ONE SEEMS TO KNOW

I`M GONE.


HOME IS WHERE THE HATRED IS,

HOME IS FILLED WITH PAIN,

AND IT MIGHT NOT BE SUCH A BAD IDEA

IF I NEVER, NEVER WENT HOME AGAIN.


STAND AS FAR AWAY FROM ME AS YOU CAN,

AND ASK ME WHY.

HANG ON TO YOUR ROSARY BEADS,

CLOSE YOUR EYES TO WATCH ME DIE.


YOU KEEP SAYIN`,

`KICK IT!

QUIT IT!

KICK IT!

QUIT IT!

KICK IT!

QUIT IT!`

GOD, BUT DID YOU EVER TRY

TO TURN YOUR SICK SOUL

INSIDE OUT

SO THAT THE WORLD

CAN WATCH YOU DIE.


HOME IS WHERE I LIVE

INSIDE MY WHITE POWER DREAMS,

HOME WAS ONCE AN EMPTY VACUUM

THAT`S FILLED NOW

WITH MY SILENT SCREAMS.

HOME IS WHERE THE NEEDLE MARKS

TRY TO HEAR MY BROKEN HEART,

AND IT MIGHT NOT BE SUCH A BAD IDEA

IF I NEVER, NEVER WENT HOME AGAIN.


HOME AGAIN,

i read an interview with esther, where she was talking about her first meeting w/ gil. she was saying since she was a junkie... she just knew he had to be one too, from his music/ words.
dude is the man.

i saw the thunder and heard the lightning- thats that shit.

Fatback

I still need to learn more about Brian Jackson. Anybody?

sneakyp

"pieces of a man" is not for recreational listining. shit is like carrying a burden just to hear it when you're in a good mood. and the imagery is so vivid. it's one of those few artistic moments where the artist is able to communicate something on a level that can't fully be communicated through another means. (Like if you tried to reproduce the image through a picture, or film, or painting, or written story, you would never be able to strike as powerful of a chord). There's certainly other examples in music, art, and literature, but they sadly few and far between.

there's another song off that album...i can't remember the name. i think he's singing about office slavery (or something to that effect) and at a certain point he drops this line "...can't nobody see, can't nobody see...:" in that gil scott heron kind of way, and it just stops me everytime. one of those rare moments where the entire song comes together and breaks down, and hit's you in that certain way that music does. don't know if that makes sense (it does to me), but anyway, yeah, Gil Scott Heron is definitely to be apprecited. Haven't checked out much 80s stuff. should I?

Mad Drama Teacher

Haven't checked out much 80s stuff. should I?

I remember Moving Target having one strong track.

I think his political messages were too overt in the 80s, though, unlike his earlier albums where he was able to get the point across in a creative way.

SPlDEY

Please to excuse the snotty english interviewer.. Wonderful interview with Gil.

In fact, his picture has adorned my Desktop for a month now. Courtesy of Byroglyphics.



- spidey

sneakyp

"angel dust" is good. but that's not one to just throw on and listen to. plus the subject is a little dated, and especially since it is/was more of a fringe drug and never had a real sociological impact. still, not too many artists talk about that one. and i do like it. although the "angel dust...it just ain't where it's at" chorus is more comical than it is thought provoking

pickwick33

living in DC and digging, is pretty much following the tracks (literally) of GSH and his fans.

true story. one time i was playing the bottle 12" at a club in DC and this drunk as fuck girl came up with a crispy $50 shoved it at me and said, "please, please take this off and play anything else, i am about to have an aneurysm". i admit, i was broke as fuck at the time and thought about it and then i thought...what would Gil do?

...but what did you do?

Fatback

living in DC and digging, is pretty much following the tracks (literally) of GSH and his fans.

true story. one time i was playing the bottle 12" at a club in DC and this drunk as fuck girl came up with a crispy $50 shoved it at me and said, "please, please take this off and play anything else, i am about to have an aneurysm". i admit, i was broke as fuck at the time and thought about it and then i thought...what would Gil do?

...but what did you do?

Come on. I took the $50 and copped. Then melted on my couch to Winter in America.

Fatback

I think his political messages were too overt in the 80s, though, unlike his earlier albums where he was able to get the point across in a creative way.

Yeah, he should have let that shit go. Things were just fucking great in the 80s.

batmon

Whitey On The Moon.

Mad Drama Teacher

Haha! Weren't they, though?

Golden shower era trickle down. Drink a cup of Gatorade and call me.

Fatback

Haha! Weren't they, though?

Golden shower era trickle down. Drink a cup of Gatorade and call me.

I know. I just hate when black people wear that shit on their sleeve.

pickwick33

"angel dust" is good. but that's not one to just throw on and listen to. plus the subject is a little dated, and especially since it is/was more of a fringe drug and never had a real sociological impact. still, not too many artists talk about that one. and i do like it. although the "angel dust...it just ain't where it's at" chorus is more comical than it is thought provoking

i see nothing wrong with the music or the message...matter of fact, that is the only other hit SINGLE (besides 1975's "Johannesburg") that GSH had. i think both were the only songs of his to make the top 40 soul charts. i used to hear this bumping from black radio stations all the time.

(strangely enough, WLS - at one time THE big Top 40 white station in Chicago - had this song on their playlist for a MINUTE, before they let it die.)

Mad Drama Teacher

Oh yeah, THAT guy...

Fatback

Oh yeah, THAT guy...

If you zoom in with your Bladeruuner softwware, you will see the hog moss confiscated from a Harlem sanctuary.

Swayze

great interview. thanks for posting this.


i just want to say that all this hypocrisy talk is nonsense. the reason songs like "the bottle" and "home is where the hatred is" are so potent is because they are coming from a man who knows what he's talking about...

writing a song about cocaine when you've never done a line in your life... now that would be hypocritical. his songs never said, "don't do this" or "i've never done this".. they're just putting things out there the way they are... the audience is invited to draw their own conclusions.

anyway, just look at the interview and listen to the man himself. despite his troubles, which is what everybody wants to focus on, the man is extremely sharp and insightful.

Birdman9

Thanks for starting the thread, AI. It goes without saying in these quarters, but Gil's music is beyond important to many of us here. That music has so much heart and heartbreak it is almost beyond description, and certainly beyond genre.

I have seen Gil twice(would have been 3 but that time he ditched,and the sight of Brian Jackson and the rest of his band just sitting at the bar waiting for him at Blues Alley in DC was heartbreaking). The first time he had Brian Jackson in tow as well as some serious percussionist and it was a beautiful night. He was in great form(although the physical difference between him and Jackson is startling---Jackson looks like a health nut and barely looks like he is beyond 35--sadly Gil looks his age and a healthy dose more). Magical. The next time was after his prison stay, and it was very much what AI's friend described....a few noticable shakes and a slight lisp due to lost teeth, but it all melted away the minute he began playing. Even his monologues were funny, and scathingly on point. But you could tell that it was all for the moment, and the weight of his life would soon be back on him.

I hope he can get better, I am sure in times like these he woul have plenty to say if he could find his way to it.

yuichi

Please to excuse the snotty english interviewer.. Wonderful interview with Gil.

I actually thought the interviewer brought out the truth from him. Not just get some sugar-coated answers for T.V.

Listening to Winter in America right now....

That Esther Phillips joint was one of my favs on Paul Nice's mix.

Jimster

A great, of course.

I have most of his output but the stuff with Brian Jackson involved is musically stronger IMHO. Nothing beats that version of HIWTHI on "It's Your World". The solos are next level. I think I know those parts note-for-note. I definitely spent a few days just listening to Bilal's sax solo over and over. The end is, as I think I mentioned last time, used for MAW's "Moonshine".

"They don't really love you, brother."

I've seen Gil 3 or 4 times, but never with Brian Jackson. Nobody has rocked the Rhodes like that, despite the modern bands always being tight. Robbie Gordon on bass was/is good value, I don't know if he's still in the band. But some show started 2 hours late. Like the taxi story, people had left and yes, he was probably copping. Frustrating.

Re: "Can't believe he succumbed to drugs after penning those tunes" - Can folks not see dude was in too deep before he wrote them? I am amazed he's still alive. I don't think I could bear to see him again, even with Brian. I've seen that interview before and I detected no snot either. It might be just our accents that are always interpreted as snotty?

p_gunn

Haven't checked out much 80s stuff. should I?

I remember Moving Target having one strong track.

I think his political messages were too overt in the 80s, though, unlike his earlier albums where he was able to get the point across in a creative way.

i kinda get what you mean, but to be fair, the 80's made a lot of artists in all fields respond the same way, that is to say not so subtlely... it wasn't the 70's, yunno?