Who are your heroes?
Guzzo
8,611 Posts
I wanna know oth your personal hero and your musical hero:
Personal Heroes
WEB Dubois[/b] - Fought for equality and civil rights, wasn't scared to call out his rivals (Booker T Washington & Marcus Garvey). in his mid-eighties he had had enough of a fucked up system, denounced his citizenship and moved to Ghana.
Irvin Thomas[/b] - One of my best friends fathers. Grew up in the southside of Chicago, put himself through college and became a teacher, has taught in some of the roughest schools in LA including the infamous Locke High. He currently teaches at a continuation school in West Covina aiding the kids labeled as "Last Chance". He has also managed to raise 5 children of his own without any of them going to jail or getting into serious trouble, considering how many people I knew growing up that are in jailthis is quite a feat.
William Klein[/b] - My father, born with Palsy which left him deaf and unable to walk until he was 12 years old. Because of circumstances he never got an education past 6th grade and still managed to raise 4 children, all of who were able to put themselves through college and become doctors, scientists, and members of the vast Jewish Hollywood conspiracy. Now in his twilight years he sits back and gets to do what he never had a chance to do before...relax
Musical Heroes:
Stevie Wonder[/b] - wrote songs that touched my heart, made some of the most beautiful melodies of the 20th century and did all this despite having only 3 of his 5 senses, proving that nothing can hold you down from being great.
Stuart Murdoch[/b] - it seems like no other songwriter has ever made lyrics that affeect me as much as this man. While Belle and Sebastian may not be everyones cup of tea they certainly are mine, and without the wordplay of this man I'd feel that much more ignorant to lyrical beauty.
De La Soul[/b] - these dudes had the sense of humor that changed my whole 9 year old wannabe NWA gangsta ass into a smart ass that saw other possiblities outside my small West Covina world. I remember listening to De La Soul is dead and bugging out more than I ever had before on any other album. I mean how many hip-hop groups were writing songs that were just arguments about doughnuts? As they grew I grew as well and learned that it is socially acceptable to not put on hip-hop posturing to still be accepted and understood
who are your heroes?
Personal Heroes
WEB Dubois[/b] - Fought for equality and civil rights, wasn't scared to call out his rivals (Booker T Washington & Marcus Garvey). in his mid-eighties he had had enough of a fucked up system, denounced his citizenship and moved to Ghana.
Irvin Thomas[/b] - One of my best friends fathers. Grew up in the southside of Chicago, put himself through college and became a teacher, has taught in some of the roughest schools in LA including the infamous Locke High. He currently teaches at a continuation school in West Covina aiding the kids labeled as "Last Chance". He has also managed to raise 5 children of his own without any of them going to jail or getting into serious trouble, considering how many people I knew growing up that are in jailthis is quite a feat.
William Klein[/b] - My father, born with Palsy which left him deaf and unable to walk until he was 12 years old. Because of circumstances he never got an education past 6th grade and still managed to raise 4 children, all of who were able to put themselves through college and become doctors, scientists, and members of the vast Jewish Hollywood conspiracy. Now in his twilight years he sits back and gets to do what he never had a chance to do before...relax
Musical Heroes:
Stevie Wonder[/b] - wrote songs that touched my heart, made some of the most beautiful melodies of the 20th century and did all this despite having only 3 of his 5 senses, proving that nothing can hold you down from being great.
Stuart Murdoch[/b] - it seems like no other songwriter has ever made lyrics that affeect me as much as this man. While Belle and Sebastian may not be everyones cup of tea they certainly are mine, and without the wordplay of this man I'd feel that much more ignorant to lyrical beauty.
De La Soul[/b] - these dudes had the sense of humor that changed my whole 9 year old wannabe NWA gangsta ass into a smart ass that saw other possiblities outside my small West Covina world. I remember listening to De La Soul is dead and bugging out more than I ever had before on any other album. I mean how many hip-hop groups were writing songs that were just arguments about doughnuts? As they grew I grew as well and learned that it is socially acceptable to not put on hip-hop posturing to still be accepted and understood
who are your heroes?
Comments
y'all can write on and on about some "what happens after death", and "Are there alternate universes" but you can't site your musical and personal heroes?
indulge me fuckers!
w g sebald[/b] - simply an incredible writer who creates a kind of non-fiction / poetry / history / biography / travel melting-pot that is some of the most sublime writing i have ever read. there are shades of luis borges but in a far more low-key and less self-conscious fashion. unfortunately, he died a few years ago in a car crash. read some of his books.
and back on point, a musical hero:
herbie hancock[/b] - he has made music i love (speak like a child, headhunters, maiden voyage, thrust etc) and music i, erm, don't love (feets don't fail me now, monster) but his incredible talent never fails to show through. i didn't realise how much i actually liked him until a few years ago when i was sorting out my records and turned up almost a complete collection of most of his major lp's... currently listening to: mwandishi.
Bill Hicks..said what needed to be said, when it needed to be said...wish he was still with us, we need him mor enow than ever...RIP
this might sound trite...but Malcolm Young is a hero of mine because of how money and fame have rendered him virtually unchanged in 30 years...dude has sold millions and millions of albums...but he still rocks the same haircut, same guitar, wears a t-shirt and jeans and writes the same music that made him famous...as much as I hate the phrase "keepin it real" here is the prime example.
I read Vertigo recently and while it was great, didn't change my whole world. I got turned on to him from reading some essays he wrote, which were pretty good.
Primo Levi is pretty much my hero, literary and otherwise.
Musically, am in awe of so many, but dunno if they are heroes to me.
this is the one you should read:
still, it probably won't change your whole world but it's worth reading.
John Coltrane
SONIC
Here are some of my heroes:
1. My father.
-This man came from nothing, the oldest of nine children born into utter poverty, to become a contributing member of society. He has been a faithful husband to his wife of 41 years and raised two relatively well-adjusted and prosperous sons. He introduced me to one of the loves of my life...music and taught me how to play drums. He always encouraged me in my musical pursuits (unlike my mother).
2. Malcolm X.
-I admire Malcolm X for the way he challenged the establishment with courage enough to express his views. I especially liked his ideas on economic empowerment for the Black community which were (unfortunately) subsequently lost on desegregation. Most importantly, I respect his courage to admit the fault of his previous platform of hate, and that skin color did not preordain one's character.
3. Prince.
-I admire his incredible talent, creativity, prolificness as an artist, and his courage to perform the music that pleases him. Everytime I listen to his music, I am inspired and moved by it. This is one of the few artists that I would be awe-struck by if I met him.
4. Charles Houston.
-I admire him for the great contributions he made to civil rights legislation in the 1950's. Not many people know this, but he paved the way for Thurgood Marshall's legislative work with the NAACP in the Brown v. Board of Education case. His work touches the lives of Black people to this very day. Unfortunately, Houston is one of the unsung heroes in Black history.
5. Paul Cuffe.
-Paul Cuffe was one of the first proponents of the back-to-Africa movement. I admire him for his out-of-the-box thinking of the day, and his courage to reject discrimination of the time against Blacks. He was also a successful merchant and was influential in gaining suffrage rights for Blacks in Massachusetts.
Peace,
Big Stacks from Kakalak
William O. Douglas:[/b]
Paul Robeson:[/b]
Woody Guthrie:[/b]
. . . some of my heroes actually do appear on postage stamps.[/b]
Steve McClellan: my ex-boss/former manager First Avenue(for over 20 years)
and one the greatest dudes ever.
James Baldwin: American Literary Giant and man who called it like he saw it
Randy Weston: Jazz Giant (literally), a man not afraid to get more adventurous the older he gets.
Bethany Hamilton: Fearless survivor
so many more.....
There were two camps, Chuck's and mine (not that Chuck and I were leaders or anything; just for the purpose of this post). Chuck's camp lived across town, had their own hangouts, their own bands, and we had ours. It wasn't long before the cross-pollenation (girlfriends, boyfriends, bands) set in. And it wasn't long thereafter that people started dying. There was something in the water, we think. And everyone was obviously of hard times. And depression. Then failed attempts at suicide. And then people started succeeding. First this kid Brian. Then this kid Ray. Then Chuck.
(This is Chuck on a "good" day, looking pale. R.I.P.)
Before the days of cross-pollenation and suicide, Chuck recorded this song (You're A Slave To Your Appetites) with his man Chris. Chuck drummed and Chris sang. Everyone thought Chris was a girl when they heard the record. And when they came to the shows they were all like, "Huh? It's a dude?" He had that high-pitched thing going for him, I guess.
Chris was always a little touched. Kinda quiet, kinda kept to himself. The songs he wrote were like creepy dreams you never wanted anyone to know you had. Here's this quiet, shy kid (whose hands would shake when he was on stage) who got up in front of people and started talking about his mom in ways that would make a psychotherapist cream...
Light Coming In, Light Going Out is the perfect example:
Mother, I can see this light. And it's pulling me. It's pulling me.
Nutured and cared for, by some complete stranger
It's food it's warmth it's everything I need
Kick and scream now
Want to go home
Crawl back under your skin
Chris had balance though. He could introduce the familiar amongst the unspeakable. Chances are that this waste of your time/ Will never appreciate anything. All the depressed lot of us could chew on that line. Plus, Chris was the little guy, so he usually got pushed around quite a bit. They beat him to the ground/ But he'll run with them, someday. It's funny that he outlived most of them, I think.
My camp. We were like drifters. Neer-do-wells. There were four or five different musical endeavors happening all at once. And it's always been that way. There was this kid B.A., and Rahsaan, and me. We made some pretty horrible music together in high school. Then B.A. went to college, and traveled through South America and Spain with his wife for a year. Rahsaan and I honed our skills (B.A. was always the smart one). When B.A. got back, it was on (this was during the cross-pollenation). The three of us had a group. As well, Rahsaan and I recorded with Chuck's camp. And, Rahsaan and I were in this other band with these kids Nathan and Mitch. It was like an orgy.
Rahsaan turned into a recording engineer overnight...
One day he decided he wanted to start recording. He used all his tuition money to buy recording equipment (gangsta!), converted the basement into a studio, the back bedroom into a control room, and started finding bands. Rahsaan and B.A. began recording themselves. Their band, Sleeper Waves, is probably my favorite group of all time. B.A.'s got that sentimental gaze (which oozes fuck me) about him while Rahsaan is just plain out there. He is like psycho, saint, savant, son of a Black Panther, sexmonger, and super dad all at once. No one really understands how he does it. Every time I talk to him it is something different. "I just got back from a mushroom trip in Death Valley. I wandered alone for 3 days." Or, "I'm reading the The Bhagavad Gita in Sanskrit to my Hindu discussion group this weekend." Or, "My daughter and I made a book of pressed flowers that we've collected on our morning walks to school."
B.A. and Rahsaan coalesce in song. Aquaphilia is one part "sex with the ocean" and one part "all things". I long to discover the ocean/ My body is phosphorescent is obviously B.A., and Rahsaan represents the eastern mindset:
When I was very young
You???d speak these words to me
Deep in the forest
You will melt into the trees
When I am very old
Repeat these words to me
Deep in the forest
You will melt into the trees
(Chris, Mitch, and B.A. singing his fucking heart out)
After Chuck hung himself, Chris sorta sank. It is hard to watch everyone you know ask themselves those what did I do/ what didn't I do type of questions. Chris began drinking... heavily (notice the glass of whiskey at his feet in the picture above). Then he went to his native Portugal, bought a guitarra (mini 12-string guitar-like thing in the picture), taught himself how to play it, and began singing traditional Portuguese ballads ("fado"). Mitch, the dude who was in a band with Rahsaan and I, is now playing with Chris. They have a little fado outfit that is doing well. People listen to them (Hope and Hopelessness) and buy their records and stuff, probably thinking they are singing words that rhyme. Of course, to those of us who know Chris, it's obvious to whom he's lamenting:
Was your suffering too great? Was the beauty falling short?
Was there just too much to weigh? Was it too complex to sort?
Well... that single word would not have kept us...
(Chuck tattooed the word "hope" on the inside of his arm after his first suicide attempt.) That single word. You're too weak to stand. A we're too strong to carry you. And your words they have no meaning now. ...HOPE...
"You mean nothing now.
We mean nothing now"
Nathan, the other fellow who was in the band with Rahsaan, Mitch, and I, bought a Wurlitzer organ, taught himself to play, and rounded up another among the circle, Nigel, and the two of them started Last Of The Blacksmiths. The "old" band used to practice in Nathan's garage. The first time we went over, Rahsaan was like, "Nathan's dad's a cop... just so you know." Oh... It's funny how shit works. I'd never really had a good encounter with a cop, but Nathan's dad was kind, and sweet, and supportive. I'd see him and Nathan's mom at all the shows. He helped carry stuff. And while they were on vacation, they let Last Of The Blacksmiths turn their house into a recording studio.
Nathan's grandad, Rufus, was a poet/folki e back in the day. Nathan turned a bunch of Rufe's poems into Last Of The Blacksmiths songs. Nathan will disagree, but I like to think In My Hands was a song Rufe wrote for Nathan's dad. It's a beautiful song, and to think of Nathan singing his grandad's words to his father... It's an oral traditionists wet dream trifecta, I think.
Nigel sings as well. He's a bit aloof, but I think Grass Blades is about his wife, who is the most remarkable of women. And thinking a woman can do it for you all the time/ And knowing a woman just can???t do it for you all the time. We used to go camping, or sit on someone's porch, and play guitar together. In my mind, I picture them still doing the same. When I went home last year, they played a show and there were Blacksmith Groupies hanging around and stuff. I still picture them as high schoolers, not dudes who play shows for people I don't know. I guess there is some folk resurgence in San Francisco right now. And they're doing well in their community.
And now all my friends have records out. I get to listen to my dudes all the time. I've probably listened to each of their records a few thousand times. And the cross-pollenation is so crazy these days. (solarplexus.) Judith & Holofernes (Chris' fado outfit) recorded with Sleeper Waves:
Do you remember Barcelona?
The sunshine was an inspiration.
We walked the Ramblas
All night and day
And did not want for anything.
We???re lost and found
And lost and found and then
Retreat into the world again.
It's a song about B.A. and his wife tripping around the world while all of us were at home trying to kill ourselves. And Chris is in there with his Guitarra, steeping it with Portuguese mush and sadness. Rahsaan's wui-wei influence on the "lost and found and lost and found". The chronology, and band names, and song titles all sort of blur together now. B.A. wrote a song for Judith & Holofernes that never got recorded, which is now a Sleeper Waves song. Nepotistic...
I was one of the first to leave. Around the time Sleeper Waves began. And I've felt guilty. But it was survival for me. I couldn't be around a lot of the shit that hangs around those dudes. Depression. Despair. I am still not convinced the waves of suicide are over. So I stay away. Yet I still talk to them every day. How far away am I? How far did I go?
Further, further you go. How is the desert? How does the snow? Drift over hollow bones. How will you find your voice there?. I look back a lot, I guess. It makes my neck hurt, but it prevents the heartburnthirst.
The good news is, as soon as I left, I met Tsega.
And he's been a full-time inspiration since day one. For years. He is the kind of guy you feel lucky to have met. And the cross-pollenation continues. It's the death in life cycle. Seedlings. Or, like Sleeper Waves sing:
We always meet today
We always meet tomorrow
We always meet yesterday
My hero is
Akbar Ganji: He is on day 27 of a hunger strike in Tehran's Evin prison. He is in jail for writing a book that pinned a string of murders of prominent intellectuals in his country on the regime's leaders. When he was let out of jail for medical treatment in May, he immediately gave an interview calling on his countrymen to boycott the Iranian election. His courage inspires.
David Ben Gurion: He won Israel's war of independence, and realized the Jewish state. A giant in history.
Thelonius Monk: He never betrayed his genius even when the New York City cops denied him his right to make a living on phony drug charge. He played his way and lived in obscurity until the rest of the world finally caught up with him.