August 16th 1977 was the day that The King died. On that day 39 years ago one of the most morbid but resonant obsessions infiltrated its way into popular music. Elvis Presley’s death made him a martyr to that old cliché of sex, drugs and rock and roll, it ensured that despite his major flaws in his later years the world would never forget him. Since then the concept of the rock and roll martyr has gained considerable steam with the latest, to continue the locomotive theme, entering the station with the death of Michael Jackson 8 years ago, and most recently David Bowie. But the respected kings of rock and pop, with Bowie being a major challenger of both those titles, were monumentally successful in their own lifetime.
In fact, David Bowie is, like he was throughout his whole career, the master of his own exit from life’s preverbal stage. His last album Blackstar was released to coincide with his 69th birthday. The video for the albums first, and last, single entitled Lazarus, was the great man’s final statement. A statement that alluded to his death after an 18-month battle with lung cancer. Lyrics such as: “look up here, I’m in heaven/I’ve got scars that can’t be seen”, are now seen as his parting words. What makes this so extraordinary is that this was an artist taking control of his own story; carefully plotting his own ending in a way that no other iconic musician has done before. What else could you expect from Bowie?
It’s the artists that are infamous posthumously that make the back bone of this “obsession”. The question is why? With artists such as Ian Curtis, Jim Morrison, Kurt Cobain, and Amy Winehouse, whose stardom has grown to the heights that seemed unimaginable in their own lifetimes, just what has made it all possible? Is it that that the music listening public love heroes, especially those who fall? The idea of tragedy makes the stars lives that much more poignant, the body of work left behind more meaningful? Maybe the troubled lives of these stars show us the consequences of the actions we may find tempting: like drug use and self-abuse particularly in the case of Kurt Cobain. Maybe some of us can relate to the demons faced by these artists, the aforementioned drug and self-abuse, depression and breakdown of relationships either with band mates or partners. But that isn’t the full story. What you have to ask yourself is what started this fixation, was it a particular artist passing away in the first place? It is a common belief that in the music industry once a band or singer has completed a project, say an album or a single then it becomes the property of the media, and the public, the media being the music business itself. Does this mean that the artist is too?
The music industry first and foremost is a business. Like traditional businesses the music industry implements the same marketing and advertising, after all the main goal for record companies is to sell music and they know exactly what the public wants. In this case, tragedy. This concept is by no means new, for instance we all know that paintings by famous artists such as Van Gogh have massively increased in value since his death in 1890. This same idea is being used to the record company’s advantage. So how is this done?
The industry caters to the public’s sense of nostalgia, particularly the music press. Kurt Cobain for example regularly tops polls for greatest rock icon or hero. John Lennon had an entire issue of Q magazine dedicated to his 65th birthday. Interviews with Yoko Ono have a great deal to do with his death. Anniversaries of pivotal albums are celebrated like Joy Division’s Closer which journalists use to focus on Ian Curtis’ death with interviews with his band mates (guitarist Bernard Summner, and bassist Peter Hook have both released memoirs of dealing with that time), with insights into his lyrics and mental state during the time of the albums conception.
In the end it all comes back to the record companies. With these artists they have the ideal selling point, something that makes albums like Nevermind, Electric Ladyland and All Eyes on Me significant beyond their immediate success, the idea of leaving a legacy. Again it’s this idea of musical martyrdom. These artists lived fast and in some cases died for that reason. The notion of self-destruction is a running theme in selling these albums especially to an adolescent target audience. Record companies will take any advantage possible to sell the artist as much as possible. After Michael Jackson’s death the album The Essential was released immediately. All of Joy Divisions studio albums including the collection of songs entitled “Still” were released to coincide with the release of the biopic “Control”. Since his death there has been five albums released of material from rapper Tupac Shakur all achieving platinum status. Elliot Smith, Jeff Buckley and Nick Drake have had posthumous albums released in the past 23 years despite Drake being dead since 1974.
Are we genuinely fascinated with the tales of woe that this industry produces, is it some morbid obsession with the dark side of music? if it wasn’t for the music press or the record companies constantly jamming it down our throats would we be less interested, is it because the lives of these artists are so interesting, put into consideration that if it wasn’t for these mediums we might not have known who the likes of Nick Drake or Jim Morrison were, they could have eventually been lost in time, but because of the ever expanding world of media the artists, their work, indeed their legacy will live forever.
