MARK HOLLIS: 1955 - 2019
Desperately sad news this month in the world of music as three No Static favourites have left us and travelled skyward to participate in that great gig in the sky. Firstly, Mark Hollis - the quiet recluse of modern music and the creative genius behind one of the UK's finest bands in Talk Talk. Starting out in the early 80s as a slightly too earnest and intense synth-pop crew, Talk Talk soon settled into a force to be reckoned with. Garnering a handful of chart-bothering hits with 'Talk Talk', 'Today', 'Such A Shame' and the still tremendous 'It's My Life', Hollis and fellow members Lee Harris and Paul Webb - along with producer Tim Friese-Green - threw their burgeoning fanbase a massive curveball in 1986 when their third album 'The Colour Of Spring' saw them embracing 'real' instruments and infusing their sound with Pink Floyd style ambient textures melded with driving, psych-rock that reached it's apex with the huge hits 'Life's What You Make It' and the thunderously thrilling 'Living In Another World'. By this time, the band were taking a step back from the standard promotional treadmill of the 80s pop world - tours and interviews were few and far between - and their paymasters at EMI were becoming increasingly frustrated with Hollis and his - in their eyes - intransigence. They were even more concerned in 1988 when Hollis and the band delivered to them what is now commonly seen as their masterpiece - the extraordinary 'Spirit Of Eden'. A six-track odyssey into post-rock - before that genre even existed - 'Spirit' is a soaring, transcendent work of pure genius that every sane record collection should find time for. Inspired by jazz, Krautrock, classical and psychedelia, the album was greeted with scratched heads and quizzical ears. I remember purchasing it on it's day of release and taking it back home to my grotty bedsit for a listen on the old headphones. I didn't get it all at first but further listens revealed the gifts within. It's now firmly ensconsed in my Top 30 Albums Of All Time and I listen to it a couple of times a year without fail. It's just glorious. EMI thought differently though, and on the back of disappointing sales and no hit singles, the label sued Hollis for "commercially unsatisfactory" work. Hollis and the band responded with 1991's 'Laughing Stock' which, if anything, was even more obtuse. More lawsuits followed and EMI tried to regain some control by releasing a myriad of 'Best Of' albums that the band tried to veto. In the end, Talk Talk withered away and although Hollis released a hushed and brittle solo album in 1998, nothing more was heard from him. He was apparently more than happy living a normal life and raising a family deep in the suburbs, safe in the knowledge that his musical legacy did the talking for him.
Talk Talk's influence has grown hugely over the years with 'Spirit Of Eden' in particular becoming something of a sacred text for artists like Radiohead, Elbow, Bon Iver and the like. Later tracks like 'Chameleon Day', 'April 5th', 'I Believe In You' and 'New Grass' have set the template for the more expansive, becalmed and moving soundscapes that intelligent modern-day bands have since produced. At the time though, Talk Talk were out on their own - a band out of time perhaps. And in Hollis, they had a true maverick. An artist of pure intentions and a yearning spirit who did it all his own way and left the musical landscape a better place for his being in it. As he said so himself: "Before you play two notes, learn how to play one note. And don't play one note unless you've got a good reason to play it".
KEITH FLINT: 1969 - 2019
Another devastating loss to the world of music here, as Keith Flint - in recent years the face and voice of Essex rave titans The Prodigy - has taken his own life at the tragically young age of 49. Born and raised in Essex, Flint threw himself into the Acid House scene of the late 80s with real abandon, becoming a dancer for hire at clubs across London. Hooking up with old school pals Liam Howlett, Keith 'Maxim' Palmer and Leeroy Thornhill, the quartet named themselves The Prodigy and, with driving force Howlett knuckling down to writing and producing songs, soon stormed the charts in 1991 with dance classics like 'Charly', 'Out Of Space' and the mighty 'Everybody In The Place'. Flint, along with Thornhill, was just one of the dancers to begin with, but after the groups second album - the Mercury nominated 'Music For The Jilted Generation' - saw them embraced by the rock crowd and crossover into the mainstream, he changed tack and whether by accident or design, found himself as the de facto frontman when the band released the astonishing in your face headfuck of 'Firestarter' in 1996. This pummeling rave/rock mash-up was one of the biggest hits of the year and saw the band break America, paving the way for the huge EDM explosion of the next few years across the pond. The video - featuring Flint, now pierced and mohawked up to the eyeballs - knocked most viewers sideways when it premiered on Top Of The Pops, as well as scaring a fair few kiddies. Nothing could stop it though - the song hit Number One not just in the UK but all across the globe. Follow-up single 'Breathe' was just as massive and the parent album 'Fat Of The Land' sold 12 million copies world-wide. The Prodigy were suddenly superstars. It couldn't last of course - there was a tame comeback single in 'Baby's Got A Temper' and a stodgy, Flint-less album in 2004's 'Always Outnumbered, Never Outgunned'. Eventually though, The Prodigy settled into being one of the few stadium dance acts - getting together every few years and releasing a solid album followed by mammoth, globe-straddling tours. The band were in the middle of their current 'No Tourists' tour when Flint was found dead at his home in Essex. The shock of his passing has been palpable, with Liam Howlett in particular voicing the thoughts of many: "I'm shellshocked, fucking angry, confused and heartbroken". He went on to say that Flint was not only "a brother and my best friend, but a true pioneer, innovator and legend". On stage, Flint was demonic - hopping and fizzing around like a Tasmanian Devil on speed - and his sneering and eye-watering presence was reason enough to shell out to see the band live. By all accounts though, off stage he was as sweet as they come and since his death stories of his warmth and friendliness have been legion. We'll never know the issues and demons that led him to suicide but once the sadness has ebbed away, we'll still have the music. He was the firestarter, the twisted firestarter.
PETER TORK: 1942 - 2019
Finally, it's time to say goodbye to one of my childhood heroes. Peter Tork, bassist with the other Fab Four - The Monkees - has died after a short illness at the age of 77. The Monkees were part of the soundtrack of my school years - their eponymous TV show gained a second life of sorts in the UK in the early 80s, after the BBC bought the rights to the original 1960s broadcasts and put them on heavy rotation during the early evenings. The fun-filled and madcap mix of sketches and songs became a huge hit with a new generation of music lovers and led me to seek out similar bands from the California scene of the 60s like The Byrds and Buffalo Springfield. I was unaware at the time of course that The Monkees weren't a real band at all and had been put together specifically for the TV show as an American answer to The Beatles. Even the songs were written by others too. Tork and the rest of the band - Davey Jones, Mickey Dolenz and Mike Nesmith - soon tired of being TV puppets and broke away from their constraints after two series to concentrate on writing their own music which they did, successfully, before going just a bit too far with the psychedelic head-trip of 'Head', a film which saw their fans depart them in droves. The group split soon after, and Tork in particular drifted. Sporadic reunions with the rest of The Monkees kept his coffers full throughout his life and he was recently working on new material before succumbing to his illness. I'll always remember him from the TV show though, his wide-eyed and slightly kooky demeanour belying the fact that he could play a mean bass guitar and harmonise wonderfully with Dolenz and Jones. Hey, hey - they were The Monkees.
