Aside from liking Scott-Heron’s music, Russell regards him as “genuinely philosophical,” he told me. “He’s not hung up on time or ordinary circumstances, and I’ve never come across anyone as interesting to talk to.” Russell has said that a difficulty of working with Scott-Heron was that sometimes he wouldn’t show up. A philosopher might miss appointments, but so might someone with a propane torch in his apartment, even if he is a philosopher.
The first thing of his I heard was the first thing most people heard, The Revolution Will Not Be Televised, on one of those very late night KCBX shows, vehicle of my first exposure to a wide range of esoteric sounds. I'd lie in the dark with the speaker of my clock radio pressed up against my ear- even with the volume at zero you could make out faint, dusty sonic impressions.
It was one of those magnetic performances, its truth amplified by the where and the how of hearing it. Today, however I first discovered it the song itself would be just a click away. Video, even. Live performances, interviews. You'd have it all on your iPod in a few minutes, complete access.
Then, it was like a Masonic secret, coveted for obscurity as well as meaning, ears sharped against clock radio plastic during the small shadowed hours at the foot of the station sign off.
That type of magic is abrasive and hard to channel, and can take a toll.
RIP Gil.
2 comments:
Your experience reminds me of mine when I heard Bob Dylan's "Hurricane" - never having heard a similar voice on the radio like it (for better or worse).
I just played "B-Movie" and remembered how powerful Gil's lyrics were in those late seventies/early eighties. "Mandate, my ass..."
Rest in peace Gil, and thanks Bax.
I think I'll fulfill my own prophecy and add his discography to the ipod...
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