A galaxy of dark stars … or the stupid club

[KiwiCoromandel]

Courtney Love, mad with grief after the suicide of Kurt Cobain, called it a "stupid club". She was referring to Rock 'n' Roll Babylon, the place that claimed Cobain and a string of young, gifted and ultimately reckless musicians before him.

The history of rock is littered with the names of musicians who died, or in Syd Barrett's case, burned out, before their potential was realised. But only a few attain genuine cult status, a fascination that seems to grow with the years and sometimes threatens to overwhelm their musical legacy.

The English singer-songwriter Nick Drake made a handful of introspective albums. They were so unsuccessful he was considering a different career before his death in 1974. Now, he is the mainstream's favourite cult figure; snap frozen, forever gorgeous.

The same could be said for Rolling Stones founder Brian Jones, an enthusiastic drug taker who died in mysterious circumstances in his swimming pool in 1969. Jones, a multi-instrumentalist, appeared incapable of writing songs and was, by most accounts, a rather unpleasant character. But he is remembered fondly as one of rock's lost boys; a golden-haired martyr to the cause. If only he was alive, goes the mantra, what kind of music would he be making?

It's a question often asked about the Doors frontman Jim Morrison, who was writing "poetry" and trying to drink Paris dry when he died in 1971 at age 27. The country rock pioneer Gram Parsons died young in 1973. The Buckleys - Tim and Jeff - passed away at 28 and 30.

Each left extraordinary music, a legacy that is rightly revered. But each of them, like Barrett, had something else, a mystery that fanned the flames of a cult following. The dark stars still burn bright.

source:smh.com.au