Obituary

Shake It Like a Polaroid Obit

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High-resolution photo courtesy the killer.

Blame it on the memory card. Polaroid Instant Film is dead at 60ish. The cause of death was murder. The Digital Age, 25, of Silicon Valley, Calif., admitted to the crime.

Born to Edwin Land after his daughter asked why she could not see a picture instantly, the film was the marvel of its age. The first Instant Film camera, the Model 95, made 3 1/4'' by 4 1/4'' photos and sold for $89.75 when it was rolled out in November 1948. Soon it became the chief product of the Polaroid Corporation, and by 1956 1 million Model 95s were sold. In the 1970s Sir Lawrence Olivier and Alan Alda pitched Instant Film to the nation, and in 1975 Polacolor 2, the first color version was introduced. Sales topped 6 million, and Instant Film was on the cover of Life.

But time was cruel to Instant Film. Starting in the 1990s, digital images became increasingly popular. An ongoing legal battle with Eastman Kodak ended in victory, but Instant Film's age was beginning to show. It continued to improve but in mostly cosmetic ways. By the beginning of this millennium, Instant Film was looking for a fresh start. In 2000 it tried to revive its career as a hip new thing. It marketed itself as Polaroid i-Zone, taking both miniature photos as well as digital images. The makeover is mostly a flop. Two years later, Instant Film made one more attempt at staying relevant by offering i-Zone Fortune Film which revealed fortunes and jokes along with the micro-size photos.

A photo taken a few years before Instant Film's Death.

But the joke was literally and figuratively on Instant Film, and its own fortune was grim. The Polaroid Corporation filed for bankruptcy later that year. The mighty megabyte had conquered.
Instant Film's will is being examined, and a licensing agreement for potential future production, to keep its memory alive, is a possibility. Instant Film's legacy will be one of brilliant innovation turned novelty by the march of technology from which it sprung. Instant Film will be buried in photography and science textbooks and museums.

Posted by Ben Palosaari at February 29, 2008 3:57 PM | Comments (1)

 

Kirk Rundstrom R.I.P.

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Kirk Rundstrom, guitarist/singer for the Wichita, Kansas bluegrass band Split Lip Rayfield, passed away today following a yearlong battle with esophageal cancer. He was 38.

From the Split Lip Rayfield website:

"With great sadness we must announce that our bandmate, friend and brother Kirk Rundstrom has lost his battle. Anybody who knew Kirk knew that he had more zest than all of us. He truly had an ethereal spirit. We have been proud and impressed with the way he went out on his own terms. It wasn't easy, it wasn't fair, and it sure as hell isn't right, but he was an inspiration. We love him and will miss him."

Split Lip Rayfield formed in 1995 and quickly became one of the most beloved bluegrass bands in the country. They are best known as creators of "the Stitchgiver," a one-string upright bass built from a Ford gas tank, but are equally admired for their lightning-fast bluegrass style and relentless live shows. They toured exhaustively and came through Minneapolis many times, usually to Lee's Liquor Lounge, where they developed a sizeable following. Full history and audio samples are available at their website.

Rundstrom learned of his illness in early 2006 while on tour in Colorado, after seeking medical attention for a pain in his throat. In April, a handful of local Twin Cities bands that share Split Lip's taste for punk-country threw a benefit concert at Lee's to help with Rundstrom's medical bills. That summer, the band agreed to call it quits to give their guitarist the time and rest he needed to recover. Rundstrom soon realized that the only thing that made him feel better was playing music, however, and by August the band was back on the road. At the time, Rundstrom was so weak from chemotherapy that he had to re-learn how to play the guitar.

The band played their final Minneapolis show on Thursday, November 2, 2006. The crowd was large and enthusiastic, with shouts of "We love you Kirk!" ringing out between every song.

The band continued to tour despite concerns for Rundstrom's health, until a severe downturn forced them to cancel all dates last week.

Rundstrom played with several groups in addition to Split Lip Rayfield, including Scroat Belly, the Kirk Rundstrom Band, and Grain & Demise. Memories of Kirk and his music can be posted in the comments.

UPDATE: A nice tribute to Kirk from Lawrence.com

Posted by Chuck Terhark at February 22, 2007 2:17 PM | Comments (3)

 

Molly Ivins R.I.P.

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Among other things, liberal syndicated columnist Molly Ivins (remembered in the Progressive, the Star Tribune, and the Nation) was the first female police-beat reporter in the Twin Cities when she went to work for the Minneapolis Tribune in the late '60s (the Minneapolis police force named its mascot pig after her, which Ivins counted as one of her greatest honors). She went on to write a column for the Tribune called Movements for Social Change (why don't they bring that back?). Here's her final column, and a 2003 video of Ivins on a panel with Al Franken and Bill O'Reilly in 2003--not quite lively until the end (anyone have better stuff to post?). Random favorite Ivins quote: "I am not anti-gun, I'm pro-knife."

Posted by Peter S. Scholtes at February 1, 2007 10:40 AM | Comments (1)

 

It Was A Wonderful Life: James Brown Dies at 73

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James Brown died of congestive heart failure resulting from pneumonia Christmas morning in his hometown of Atlanta. Variously known as the Godfather of Soul, the Hardest Working Man in Show Business, JB, and a dozen other nicknames, Brown's influence is difficult to overstate. Indeed, perhaps the best way (or at least the only way this stunned brain can manage) to pay him tribute during this holiday season is to imagine, a la "It's a Wonderful Life," what the world would have been like had he never existed.

The development of funk music would be severely retarded if it existed at all. All the seminal funk acts, from George Clinton's P-Funk to Sly Stone's saucy fatback to Chic's chicka-chicka thrumbeat, to Prince's purple paisleys, owed significant chunks of their sound to JB's blueprint.

Brown was arguably the greatest musical showman of the past 50 years, with some of the most revered and galvanizing stage performers--Mick Jagger and Michael Jackson come immediately to mind--overtly copying his moves.

Race relations would have been more violent and more volatile without Brown's input. His 1968 hit, "Say it Loud (I'm Black and I'm Proud)," became a topical and self-fulfilling catchphrase. In April of that year, he saved the City of Boston from what would almost certainly been a damaging race riot by having his concert televised there on the night after the assassination of Martin Luther King Jr.

This musically addled white boy, and millions like me of all races, wouldn't have experienced the thrill of hearing "Sex Machine," "Cold Sweat," "Papa's Got a Brand New Bag," "Night Train," "This is a Man's World," and literally dozens of other songs that involuntarily had us grinding our ankles and feet into some spinning, mashed-potatoed moonwalk, hitting the orgasm scale on the geek savant meter, and not giving a shit who was laughing at us. For these and so many other things, Thank God for the life of James Brown.

Posted by Britt Robson at December 25, 2006 4:34 PM | Comments (4)

 

Turf Club bartender Stefan Olson ( 1960-2006)

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Longtime Turf Club bartender and doorman Stefan Olson was found dead in his apartment Saturday afternoon. Cause of death is unknown, but friends say Olson's body had been decomposing in his St. Paul studio for six days before it was found. A memorial service for Olson is scheduled for Monday evening starting at 5 p.m. at the Turf. For more information, call 651-647-0486.

Posted by Jim Walsh at October 15, 2006 6:46 PM | Comments (2)

 

Rev. Charlie Jackson, R.I.P.

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"In the middle of the ocean/In the middle of the night/We'll keep on fighting/Until we bring daylight," sang gospel electric guitarist Charlie Jackson on his old '70s Booker single "Something to Think About" (audio here), a lonely call for solidarity in the violent wilderness of the American South--and one of the best songs ever recorded about the Civil Rights Movement (others here). Jackson died on Monday in Baker, Louisiana (here's today's obituary in the Advocate); he was 73. The above song and others were collected three years ago on a wonderful CaseQuarter Records CD titled God's Got It (scroll down), a well-reviewed document that made many Top Tens and still astounds on 50th listen. (Buy it here, here, or here.) What follows is an open email from Kevin Nutt at CaseQuarter...

It is with great sadness that we here at CaseQuarter Records must convey the news that Bishop Charlie Jackson of Baker, Louisiana has passed away. Bishop Jackson, known to many blues, gospel and music lovers in the wider world as the Reverend Charlie Jackson, died in his sleep at a local Baker, Louisiana nursing home early Monday morning Febuary 13th. Reverend Jackson had been confined to the 24 hour care facility since the spring of 2005 after suffering the latest in a series of lifelong strokes. His wife, Laura Davis Jackson, said that Reverend Jackson had been unable to recognize anyone since his admittance and his health had steadily declined.

For anyone reading this, Reverend Jackson's music needs no introduction or reminders. Along with Elder Utah Smith, Jackson was one of few of the widespread guitar slinging gospel preachers to actually record commercial records and it is such a treasure, especially now, that we have his unique testaments. I still savor the moment when I first heard Chris Smith's and Lynn Abbott's cassette of Reverend Jackson's music. It's a cliche but nonetheless too true: it literally changed my life.

Not suprisingly, Reverend Jackson in person was even more impressive than his music. On the occasions that I visited him I was
overwhelmed with his perpetual warm heartedness and enthusisam. It was such a delight to be with him and his wife Laura.

There are many poignant and moving moments in Reverend Jackson's music but the one I've been returning to these past couple of days is "The Testimony of Reverend Charlie Jackson." "When I couldn't speak nothing, I let the guitar do it," he says in the song. And then he plays the old hymn "What a Friend We Have in Jesus" on his guitar:

What a Friend we have in Jesus, all our sins and griefs to bear.
What a privilege to carry everything to God in prayer.
O what peace we often forfeit, O what needless pain we bear,
All because we do not carry everything to God in prayer

There will be a visitation and service on Friday February 17th at the Hall Celebration Center in Baton Rouge from 5- 7PM for the visitation and 7-9PM for the service. Funeral sevices will be at Jackson's home church, Brown Chapel Baptist Church, in McComb, Mississippi on Saturday February 18th at 2PM. Flowers can be sent to the Hall Celebration Center through Heroman's Florist. www.heromans.com As of this writing there is no information on donations. Please email me if you need further information on this as it becomes available.

Kevin Nutt
CaseQuarter Records

More reactions here.

Posted by Peter S. Scholtes at February 16, 2006 4:48 PM | Comments (0)

 

Larry Batson, columnist and patriarch of the Hypstrz and Mighty Mofos, dead at 75

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One of the best pieces of rock writing to ever come out of this burg was penned by Larry Batson in the Minneapolis Tribune in the early '80s. This was before the electronic archives allowed us to search and find just about everything, so you'll have to trust me when I say that this column, about a proud father listening to the floorboards shake as his sons Ernie and Billy roared in the basement of their northeast Minneapolis home, was as good as anything that got the elder Batson nominated for a Pulitzer. Larry Batson died Monday at the age of 75; our condolences go out to Billy and Ernie and the extended Hypstrz and Mofos family.

Posted by Jim Walsh at January 31, 2006 8:57 AM | Comments (4)

 

Wicked Pickett dead at 64

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The first time I ever remember saying "sign of a good party!" when dancefloor turbulence made the record skip, I was in junior high and The Exciting Wilson Pickett was on the turntable. There is a powerglide moment in "Land of a Thousand Dances," right between the "nah, nah-nah-nah-nah" chant and the "like boney maroney" lyric, when my friends and I would go batshit with pubescent glee--damn straight we made that needle jump.

Pickett, who died today of a heart attack at the age of 64, had a voice and a fervor that were instant gratification for a freshly minted teenager. Never before had I heard a singer emit something perfectly pitched at the midpoint between a howl and a coo until Pickett told us, "All ya gotta dooooo is PICK UP your telephone and dial now, 6-3-4-5-7-8-9. That's my number!"

"In the Midnight Hour" is on the record, ranking with "Dances" and "Mustang Sally" among the Wicked one's greatest hits. But the record also had daft covers of "Barefootin'"--a squirrelly hit for Robert Parker--and Don Covay's "Mercy Mercy," both done in Pickett's inimitible sweaty, soul-soaked manner. And it had Steve Cropper's "Ninety-Nine and a Half Won't Do," which may as well have been Pickett's motto.

He released a slew of records, with his best moments by far coming in the mid-to-late 60s. Vocally he was the aural opposite of the dulcet-toned Lou Rawls, who also passed recently. Pickett was the man with elan, rivaling Otis Redding for onstage excitement. He had the Atlantic label production crew and the boys from Memphis and Muscle Shoals. At his best, he squeezed out sparks on every syllable, ballads be damned. Drop 99 cents on one of his tunes--cheaper than Red Bull and twice as energizing.

Posted by Britt Robson at January 19, 2006 5:15 PM | Comments (2)

 

Bob Feldman, 1949 - 2006

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Bob Feldman, founder and president of Red House Records, died in his St. Paul home Wednesday. Jon Bream's obit in the Star Tribune has more details. Jon Dolan's feature on Red House from 1998 has more details about the importance of Feldman's independent spirit.

The last time I saw Feldman was in the fall. We were walking our dogs at the dog park near the Mississippi River with our families. He and his wife, Beth Friend, gushed to us about how beautiful the woods and river are in the winter, and how the dogs love to romp through the snow.

We talked fast and furiously about our latest mutual fave, Eliza Gilkyson, who had recently released her tremendous Paradise Hotel on Red House. He was thrilled that it was getting airplay on The Current.

When I think of Feldman's terrific radio show, Urban Folk, on KFAI-FM, I go back to the river. I was tooling around one Sunday afternoon during the Winter Carnival a few years ago, looking for the medallion, and he played Leonard Cohen's "Everybody Knows." It was such a perfect moment, all these souls with nothing better to do than sift through the snow looking for a little prize, and Cohen/Feldman commenting on the madness of the outside world.

I can still hear the enthusiasm in his voice. I can still hear the enthusiasm in his records. I discovered so much music from him. Please feel free to leave your own memories about Feldman in the comments section below on this very sad day.

Posted by Jim Walsh at January 12, 2006 8:56 AM | Comments (17)

 

Autopsy confirms Hedberg died of OD

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Spin Magazine is reporting that St. Paul-born comedian Mitch Hedberg died accidentally in March of "multiple drug toxicity," including cocaine and heroin, citing reports obtained from the New Jersey medical examiner's office. Hedberg was 37 when he was found dead in a hotel room in Livingston, New Jersey, while on a club tour. Hedberg had been diagnosed with a heart defect, and the initial belief was that he died of heart failure. Hedberg cut his teeth at Acme Comedy Co., which led to numerous stints on "The Late Show with David Letterman" and Howard Stern's radio show, as well as a small role in the Cameron Crowe film "Almost Famous."

Posted by Corey Anderson at December 28, 2005 9:19 AM | Comments (1)

 

'West Wing' actor John Spencer dies at 58

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The Associated Press is reporting that actor John Spencer, who plays vice presidential candidate Leo McGarry on "The West Wing," has died of a heart attack at age 58. Ironically, McGarry left his chief of staff position to recover from a heart attack. Spencer won an Emmy award in 2002 for playing McGarry and was also familiar to fans of "L.A. Law" as lawyer Tommy Mullaney during that show's later seasons. His film career included supporting roles in Forget Paris, The Rock, and The Negotiator. Read the AP story here.

Posted by Corey Anderson at December 16, 2005 5:39 PM | Comments (0)

 

Richard Pryor dead at 65

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The biggest name in stand-up comedy during the 1970s, Richard Pryor, died today of a heart attack. Spike Lee: "For me, Richard was a great. He was an innovator. He was a trailblazer, and the way he showed social commentary in his humor opened up a universe for other comics to follow in his footsteps." In addition to his stand-up, Pryor also appeared in movies such as "Lady Sings the Blues," "Car Wash," "Silver Streak," and "The Wiz," and co-wrote the script for "Blazing Saddles." Read the obit at CNN here.

Posted by Corey Anderson at December 10, 2005 5:45 PM | Comments (3)

 

Link Wray, R.I.P.

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The foreign press is reporting the death of guitar legend Link Wray at the age of 76. (The actual date of death is still unknown.) Wray always claimed that, because he was delivered with "prongs" (wouldn't forceps have been bad enough?), he found learning to play the guitar very slow and difficult. You could never tell it by listening to him burn away on records like "Rumble" (which he claimed got its growling sound by holes he punched in his amp), and ax-men like Pete Townsend, Frank Zappa and Neil Young have all testified to his greatness. He moved to Denmark in 1978, but after his music was featured in Pulp Fiction, his stateside career was revitalized, and he even toured the U.S. earlier this year. Somewhere, they're playing a 21-power-chord salute in his honor.

Posted by Steve Monaco at November 21, 2005 1:35 AM | Comments (3)

 

Mana Nishiura, R.I.P.

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Wednesday's DMBQ show at the Entry has been canceled, following a tour van accident that killed drummer Mana "China" Nishiura. The collision happened Friday on the New Jersey Turnpike. Other members of the Japanese psych-rock band were treated for moderate injuries. Nishiura also played with Shonen Knife.

Posted by Lindsey Thomas at November 7, 2005 3:57 PM | Comments (1)

 

Tetes Noires founder Polly Alexander dead at 47

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Paula Joan "Polly" Alexander, a founding member of Minneapolis's first all-female rock band, Tetes Noires, died of a heart illness on October 22. She was 47.

"She had such a light heart, but she was a loner at the same time," said Alexander's former band mate Camille Gage. "She was a guitar player, and she liked to be in the back. She had such a wonderful sense of style beyond her time--sort of '50s and '60s kitsch. We all looked half-ass most of the time, but she always looked great.

"Her apartment was filled with kitschy stuff, all this Elvis stuff and smiley faces. I've been thinking about her all day: She loved this one Rick Springfield song, and one time she filled a cassette tape with just that song, and played it over and over."

A native of River Falls, Wisconsin, Alexander was a freelance accountant and did tax work for many musicians and friends in Minneapolis. Tetes released three albums--Têtes Noires (1983); American Dream (1984), and Clay Foot Gods (1987)--about which the Trouser Press Record Guide wrote, "This Minneapolis sextet shows what can happen when a demented Girl Scout singalong turns into a pop band. Their musical assets are formidable, with three lead singers--ranging from credible to incredible--and a songwriting collective that easily harnesses its riot of pop influences to produce work that demands serious consideration."

Tetes Noires took pride in the fact that they wrote, recorded, and produced their own records without the help of anyone in the male-dominated music business. Nor were they under the guidance of a Svengali-type that oversaw the careers of all-female groups such as the Runaways (Kim Fowley) or the Ronettes (Phil Spector). Formed in 1982, the band pre-dated such groups as the Slits, Mission Of Burma, and Babes In Toyland.

"Polly was really proud of (our pioneer status)," says Gage. "We all were. If we weren't the first all-girl band in the country, we were one of the first. We don't know what was going on in garages all over America, but as we toured in places like New York and Chicago, people would say we were. We were just never big self-promoters. We're kind of the band that time forgot."

Alexander is survived by her parents, Dick & Joan Alexander of Alma, Wisconsin; two sisters and two nephews. The family requests memorials be given in Polly's name to the American Heart Association or East Side Neighborhood Services. A memorial service will be held Friday (2 p.m.) at First Congregation Church in River Falls. For more information, call Cashman Mortuary at 715.425.5644.

Posted by Jim Walsh at October 31, 2005 8:58 AM | Comments (9)

 

Jazz Singer Shirley Horn Dead at 71

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Jazz singer Shirley Horn died last night after a long illness. She was 71. Here is a review I wrote for the now defunct Request Magazine about Horn's 2001 disc, "You're My Thrill."

Some singers age like fine wine, but it seems as if 66-year old Shirley Horn has always been more like a good whiskey, distilled instead of fermented, with a slow, penetrating style imbued with a dry, smoky tang. Her phrases, like those of one of her early boosters, trumpeter Miles Davis, are full of graceful restraint and beautiful shadows, like sonic feng shui. Accompanying herself on piano, backed by the rhythm section that has been with her for more than a decade and some understated orchestration arranged by Johnny Mandel, Horn illuminates familiar ballads like "You're My Thrill" and "The Very Thought of You" with distinctive, understated wisdom. A particular highlight is Mandel's "Solitary Moon," a mature valentine that luxuriates in the quiet satisfaction of romance. There are wry interludes too--guest Russell Malone's sprightly guitar underscores the plaint of "Why Don't You Do Right?"--but most of You're My Thrill reinforces Horn's gift for articulating the ambiance of love during those moments when words are unnecessary.

And here is the press release about her passing from her current record company, Verve.

The Verve Music Group is saddened to announce the passing of Shirley
Horn, the legendary pianist and vocalist. Horn died last night in her
hometown of Washington, D.C. after a lengthy illness. She was 71 years old.

Ron Goldstein, President & CEO of the Verve Music Group, comments
"Shirley Horn was a true innovator. She created a unique style of
playing and singing that was not only original, but so penetrating and
so much her own that few dared try to copy it. She was also a great
character and I will miss all of my conversations with her, which were
delivered in the same deadpan, ironic style that we all knew and loved
from her performances. Her passing is a great loss to Verve, to Jazz,
and to the world."

Born on May 1, 1934, Horn began to play the piano at age four. After
majoring in music at Howard University, Horn put together her first trio in 1954. Miles Davis invited her to open for him at the Village Vanguard in 1960, an engagement which led to a recording contract with Mercury Records and a life-long friendship with Davis. Quincy Jones became an admirer and mentor of Horn's during this period, and produced two of her albums: Loads Of Love (Mercury, 1963) and Shirley Horn with Horns (Mercury, 1963). After parting ways with the label over creative differences, she recorded a number of albums for the Danish Steeplechase label which cemented her reputation as a singular talent. Horn was a devoted wife and mother, so much so that she eschewed touring for many years and instead chose to perform primarily in clubs around the D.C. and Baltimore area.

In 1986, she signed with Verve and made a series of critically-acclaimed albums which significantly raised her profile and exposed her to a new generation of jazz fans. During her tenure with Verve, she released fourteen albums and was honored with eight Grammy nominations. She was elected to the Lionel Hampton Jazz Hall of Fame in in 1996, and in 1998, she won the Grammy for Best Jazz Vocal Performance for her tribute to Miles Davis, I Remember Miles. In 1999, she received the Phineas Newborn, Jr. Award, along with a tribute concert in her honor. Other honors include a 2003 Jazz at Lincoln Center Award for Artistic Excellence, an honorary doctorate from the Berklee College of Music and inclusion in ASCAP's Wall of Fame as the 2005 Living Legend. In late 2004, Horn was honored at the Kennedy Center with an all-star tribute concert and was named 2005 NEA Jazz Master, the nation's highest honor for jazz musicians.

Posted by Britt Robson at October 21, 2005 6:11 PM | Comments (0)

 

Charles Rocket, 1949-2005

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The body of former "Saturday Night Live" cast member Charles Rocket was found in a field on October 7. The Connecticut state medical examiner has ruled his death a suicide. Rocket, who hosted Weekend Update from 1980-81, is best known for getting kicked off the show for saying "fuck" during a live performance. His subsequent acting career included playing Bruce Willis' brother on "Moonlighting" and Geena Davis' philandering fiance in Earth Girls are Easy. Audiences who caught Sound Unseen's screenings of TV Party, will also recognize Rocket as the guy who played accordion and sang "Wild Thing" on the NYC cable access show.

Posted by Lindsey Thomas at October 17, 2005 2:25 PM | Comments (0)

 

Diana Watters, R.I.P.

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As posted at Blotter: "City Pages lost a great friend and contributor when photographer Diana Watters died" on Friday. Her memorial service will be held tomorrow morning. Diana photographed a wedding I attended Friday on a pebble beach near Duluth. She was smiling and looking her beautiful self, but barely said hello, and was missing from the reception. I didn't find out until the next day that she apparently left with her boyfriend feeling very sick. (The groom noticed her hands shaking during the wedding photos.) Diana had been ill for months, friends say, but her death comes as a shock to many of them. I knew her only through work--she was a longtime City Pages photographer--but she struck me as typically unflappable, shooting whatever band she was assigned and making aerial pictures like the one above (click for the whole photo). In recent years she became the trained pilot of a 1940 Piper J3 Cub, and nearly finished a video documentary about people who hunt and collect Lake Superior agates. Her last day was spent on the lake, and behind her camera. Update 6:00 p.m.: Some of Diana Watters's best City Pages photos are here, and you can share your own memories or condolences here.

Posted by Peter S. Scholtes at October 3, 2005 3:54 PM | Comments (0)

 

Would you believe dead as a doornail?

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Don Adams, who played the inept secret agent Maxwell Smart in the 1960s sitcom "Get Smart," died yesterday at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center of a lung infection. Adams jumped at the role after finding out Mel Brooks and Buck Henry had written the pilot. "Get Smart" ran for two years on NBC and two years on CBS before being cancelled as audiences grew tired of the rehashing of well-worn gags that plagued the sitcom. Fox actually revived the sitcom in 1995. It lasted seven episodes.

Adams was also known for his voice work, specifically as Tennessee Tuxedo from the "Underdog" show, and Inspector Gadget, the 1980s inept secret agent (ahem) cartoon character that spawned a feature film starring Matthew Broderick and a straight-to-DVD sequel featuring French Stewart in the title role. Adams also played Comet the Coach in the 1964 TV special "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer." Adams was 82.

Posted by Corey Anderson at September 26, 2005 2:39 PM | Comments (0)

 

In Heaven Sitting Down

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This morning Fat Possum Records announced the death of North Mississippi country-blues guitarist R.L. Burnside. He passed away in a Memphis hospital at the age of 78. Burnside's recordings, which span more than three decades, experienced a surge in popularity in 1996 when he collaborated with the Jon Spencer Blues Explosion.

Posted by Lindsey Thomas at September 1, 2005 3:37 PM | Comments (0)

 

Mallman on Moog

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In honor of synthesizer pioneer Bob Moog, who died on Sunday, August 19, we asked local keyboard hero Mark Mallman for some thoughts on Moog and a list of his favorite Moog-driven or Moog-accented recordings. Here's what he came up with:

My father took me to a dusty garage just off the Milwaukee River when I was 12 years old. "Your cousin Randy has a synthesizer in here, if you want it," he said. On a card table was a white spaceship of a keyboard called a Moog CDX. This Moog could have been my first synth, but in 1985, analog was on the outs. I bought a Casio instead. Regrets, I've had a few..., and that decision goes in my top 10 list.

Ever go to Texas and order a Coke? But in Texas a Coke can mean any soda at all, grape or whatever. That's how essential Moog has become in the vocabulary of rock. When I'm in a session, producing or whatever, and someone says, "Let's put some Moog on it," that means the whirring of electrons in a musical phrase, the fat analog of tubes and circuits pulsing waveforms, square and triangular. A person may chuckle at the bygone imagery suggested by the word, but those associations become fewer as trends fade and truths remain steadfast. That truth being that Bob Moog is as pivotal to the keyboard as Les Paul is to the guitar, or Colonel Sanders to Fried Chicken.

Below is a list of what I feel to be essential albums in the history of (the) Moog, from 1969 through 1980:

The Beatles, Abbey Road (1969)
Dick Hyman, Moog, The Electric Eclectics of Dick Hyman (1969)
Emerson, Lake, & Palmer, self titled (1970)
A Clockwork Orange, original score by Wendy Carlos (1971)
Yes, Close to the Edge (1972)
Pink Floyd, Dark Side of the Moon (1973)
Tangerine Dream, Phaedra (1974)
Kraftwerk, "Autobahn" (1974)
Brian Eno, Another Green World (1975)
Jean Michel Jarre, Oxygene (1977)
Gary Numan, Telekon (1980)

Posted by Dylan Hicks at August 26, 2005 10:22 AM | Comments (0)

 

Gonzo's Red Glare

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The Hunter Thompson memorial tribute--a $2 million affair underwritten by actor Johnny Depp, which included the gonzo journalist's ashes mixed in with a fireworks display and fired off at his Colorado ranch--is given a fairly thorough recounting in today's NY Times.

Posted by Britt Robson at August 22, 2005 12:41 PM | Comments (0)

 

Little Milton, R.I.P.

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Little Milton was a great blues and soul singer-guitarist. The Chess Records collection His Greatest Sides is fantastic. I'm sure there are other fine collections, but stick with stuff on Chess for starters. Here's the obit from Billboard.

Posted by Dylan Hicks at August 5, 2005 9:41 AM | Comments (0)

 

Double whammy day for geeks

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While still recovering from the news of James "Scotty" Doohan's timely death, it was recently reported that James N. Aparo, a DC Comics illustrator for over 30 years, has passed away at age 72. Starting in the late 1960's, Aparo drew Batman, Green Arrow, Aquaman, Spectre, and other titles until his retirement about four years ago. Read a brief obit here and Jim Amash's August 2000 interview with Aparo for Comic Book Artist here.

Posted by Corey Anderson at July 20, 2005 2:25 PM | Comments (0)

 

Scotty beamed up

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James Doohan is dead at 85. And here's the best bit of the wire service obit that the Strib is carrying--Doohan's 1998 revery about the good old days on Star Trek:

"I started out in the series at basic minimum--plus 10 percent for my agent. That was added a little bit in the second year. When we finally got to our third year, Paramount told us we'd get second-year pay! That's how much they loved us."

He accused Shatner of hogging the camera, adding: "I like Captain Kirk, but I sure don't like Bill. He's so insecure that all he can think about is himself."

Posted by Steve Perry at July 20, 2005 11:22 AM | Comments (0)

 

In Praise of Luther

Filed under: Obituary

Despite its dismissals of hip hop and a few other points I don't agree with, Jason King's tribute to Luther Vandross is worth reading, especially for its treatment of Vandross's sexuality and politics, or lack thereof in the case of the latter. If by chance you're looking for an introduction to Luther's music, the two-CD Best of Love remains useful. Of his original album, my favorite is Forever, for Always, for Love.

Posted by Dylan Hicks at July 11, 2005 5:35 PM | Comments (0)

 

A Moment of Silence, Then Resume Questioning the Dirtbag

Filed under: Obituary

Lovers of cop dramas might pause to recognize the passing of Evan Hunter, better known as Ed McBain, writer of a zillion crime novels. McBain's 87th Precinct series of books basically invented the police station as dramatic set, and paved the way for Homicide, Law and Order, NYPD Blue, Hill Street Blues--you name it. His writing was clean, sparse, and extremely gritty, especially for the days before Dennis Franz could say "asshole" on TV.

Posted by Quinton Skinner at July 8, 2005 3:49 PM | Comments (0)

 

Soul Asylum - Statement on Karl Mueller

Filed under: Obituary

Posted by Peter S. Scholtes at June 21, 2005 12:50 PM

 

Family Man

Filed under: Obituary

 

Karl Mueller, 1963-2005

By Jim Walsh

 

A few years ago, Karl Mueller handed out pens stenciled with the words, "Your Friend, Karl Mueller." The gesture was inspired by Suicide Commandos founder Chris Osgood, who a few years earlier had passed out guitar picks inscribed with, "Your Pal, Chris Osgood."

Last Friday morning, Karl died in his wife Mary Beth's arms. That night, Osgood found himself at a cabin in the north woods with friends, several who consider Karl to be a dear friend. At dinner, Osgood lifted a glass of wine to his tribe, present and not, and talked about the gift of friendship and the preciousness of life. Then one of the diners, in an attempt to make sense of the day's events, grilled Osgood for two hours on the history of the Commandos.

 

"It started when [Commandos drummer] Dave Ahl and I were kids," began Osgood. "We were skateboard buddies." Which is how so many great bands start--friends first. And though it went unsaid, it was the kind of conversation that Karl would have loved, overflowing with names of long-lost musicians and clubs, and the kind of secret-code minutia (amps, gear, and guitars) that musicians use to talk about the passion, and which forge thicker-than-blood roots. 

A few weeks ago, I knew Karl wasn't doing very well. He was my neighbor, and he'd come out of the house to see my puppy and talk to me and my daughter and her friend through his newly installed voice box, the price of his yearlong battle with throat cancer. I asked Mary Beth, who sports an "(eye symbol) (heart symbol) K" tattoo on her right arm, if she wanted me to write anything.

 

She was optimistic. She said there was a good story about "band as family," which I presumed to mean how the Soul Asylum circle had risen to the occasion and helped care for their mate. But she may have also meant that once in a great while, a rock band becomes a really big family.

 

If you're reading this, if you were one of the girls who crushed out on him when he was a 14-year-old punk-rock bag boy at the Uptown Lunds, or the owner of Ron's Market down the street from his house who was devastated by the news of his passing, you were part of Karl's family. He wasn't that particular. There wasn't an insider-hipster bone in his body. He just loved rock, and he loved to rock. His dad died when he was young, so it was just Karl and his mom, Mary, and so when he became friends with Dave Pirner and Dan Murphy and unleashed Loud Fast Rules on the bars of the Twin Cities, his family grew. When Soul Asylum got bigger, his family got bigger.

 

In the fall, Karl drove with my family and me to the funeral for our friend Dave Ayers's father. Ayers was Soul Asylum's first manager. Karl sat next to me on a folding chair as Dave's wife Ambrosia sang "Amazing Grace." God knows what he was thinking at the time, but as we drove back from Shoreview to the cities, he told us much of his life story, but never once mentioned the chemo or radiation or the shitty cards he'd been dealt, probably because he didn't consider them all that shitty.

 

Up in the north woods last Friday, people talked about the first time they met Karl and the last time they saw him, and took silent comfort in the knowledge that similar spontaneous memorials were going on all over the world. A couple of hours after getting the news, Ayers told a few of us about Dan Corrigan's photo shoot for the cover of Clam Dip and Other Delights, the 1988 Twin/Tone EP that spoofed the cover art of Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass's Whipped Cream and Other Delights.

 

"He was this silly, funny guy with such a heart. He was such a good sport," said Ayers. "That thing stunk so bad that day. It was a combination of sour cream, paint, and whipped cream, and then there was all this seafood. He sat there for hours. After a while, he got tired, and a little cranky, and just as he was about to climb out, someone put a dollop of the stuff on his head and put a chip in it. He sat back down, and that was the shot."

And that was Karl, who died on June 17, 2005 after a courageous battle with cancer. He is survived by his family.

 

UPDATE: Soul Asylum statement on Karl Mueller

 

Pictures and memories from the fundraiser for Karl 

 

Posted by Dylan Hicks at June 20, 2005 11:34 AM | Comments (1)

 

Karl Mueller R.I.P.

Filed under: Obituary

Karl Mueller, the bass player for Soul Asylum, died this morning of throat cancer. Look for more about Mueller either in this space or in next week's paper. Below are two columns written by Jim Walsh during Mueller's illness. -- Dylan Hicks

Let's Go Crazy

Ooh La La

Posted by Corey Anderson at June 17, 2005 4:50 PM