OBITUARIES

As has become something of a very sad regular event during these uncertain times, here I am again paying tribute to some legendary rock and roll heroes who have recently shuffled off this mortal coil to join the Parthenon of greats up above us taking part in that great gig in the sky. I recommend that you pull up a comfortable chair, raise a glass of something suitable and pay homage to all of these maestros.
Recent weeks have seen us lose the likes of hugely well-respected country rock singer/songwriter John Prine who, after many years of ill-health, tragically succumbed to the effects of Covid-19 at the age of 73. A true maverick and the epitome of the songwriter's songwriter, Prine's albums over the years - especially the utterly sublime 'The Missing Years' from 1991 - will stand the test of time and are a worthy testament to his life in song. AfroBeat pioneer and - according to frequent collaborator Damon Albarn - "The greatest drummer that's ever lived", Tony Allen, has also passed suddenly at the age of 79. Renowned for his work during the 70's with legendary African musicians like Fela Kuti and Hugh Masekela, Allen became even more well-known in recent years thanks to his sterling stints in Albarn's The Good, The Bad And The Queen collective and their Rocket Juice And The Moon project. We've also bidden a fond farewell to early disco progenitor and funk aficionado Hamilton Bohannon; powerhouse vocalist and the queen of blues-inflected gospel Betty Wright; Dave Greenfield - punk stalwart and long-standing keyboardist for Guildford's black-clad rockers The Stranglers; and 60's psych-rock legend and vocalist for the wonderful The Pretty Things, Phil May, who passed away only yesterday at the age of 75 after suffering severe complications from a recent surgical procedure. Rest in power to all of the above.   

FLORIAN SCHNEIDER: 7/04/47 - 21/04/20

The death this month of German electronic music pioneer and founding member of the monumentally magnificent Kraftwerk - Florian Schneider - has hit me the hardest out of all of the current losses related to the musical universe. I grew up listening to Kraftwerk due to the presence of their 1974 album 'Autobahn' in my step-father's record collection. As a young boy, I had no idea what this music was or if it had even been made by human beings - so futuristic and other-wordly did it sound. As I discovered and fell in love with electronic pop music in the early 80's as a teen, I realised just how influential the band had been to the likes of The Human League, Soft Cell, New Order, Heaven 17, Depeche Mode and the Pet Shop Boys - as well as to legendary 70's acts like David Bowie and Roxy Music. Indeed, it's safe to say that there was probably only one band that the perennial trend-setter Bowie had ever tried to ape - most pertinently on his tremendous 'Station To Station' album - and that band was Kraftwerk. Fusing together an extraordinary blend of - at the time - unheard synthesised sounds, drum machines and computerised beeps and whistles, Kraftwerk's five-album run of the aforementioned 'Autobahn', 1975's 'Radioactivity', the astonishing double-whammy of 77's 'Trans-Europe Express' and the following year's 'The Man Machine' and then 1981's peerless 'Computer World', comprise one of the most consistently brilliant catalogues of music from any genre at any time. The fact that 1986's 'Electric Cafe' and 'Tour De France Soundtracks' from 2003 don't quite match up is only down to the phenomenal marker the band had set themselves previously.
Kraftwerk's precise, compact and seemingly simple tunes that belied the hours, days and weeks of preparation and perfectionism that went into recording them, were mind-blowing to listen to at the time and, if anything, are even more magisterial now. Influencing everything from synth-pop, techno, ambient soundscapes and even hip-hop, it's no stretch at all to state that the future of modern-day 21st century music was born the first time Kraftwerk entered a studio. Just take some time to listen to tracks like 'The Robots', 'Neon Lights', 'Pocket Calculator', 'Tour De France', the surprise 1982 Number One single 'The Model' - as well as the magnificent title tracks from all of their seminal albums - and it's easy to see why they are the most influential music group since The Beatles.

Schneider himself - who has died at the age of 73 after suffering from cancer - formed the band in 1970. Originally called - quite magnificently - Pissoff, Schneider teamed up with fellow multi-instrumentalist Ralf Hutter and changed the name of the band to Kraftwerk, after the German term for power plant. At first, both Schneider and Hutter played traditional instruments before filtering their sounds through a primitive form of electronic processing. Eventually, after purchasing various prototype synthesisers, speakers and microphones, the electronics took over and the original way of making music was jettisoned. Schneider himself once said that he found his old musical instruments too limiting so he just "threw them away". After three early albums of prog-indebted experimental rock music, Kraftwerk expanded into a quartet with the addition of Wolfgang Flur and Karl Bartos and quickly became the enigmatic, smartly attired 'bank managers on a jolly' synth-pop masters that changed everything in the late 70's. Schneider and Hutter's relationship became more and more strained over the years - not that you would have known it too much due to the almost comical reticence for interviews and such like - and after touring the 'Tour De France' album in the mid-noughties, Schneider quietly retired and disappeared from public life. As a band, Kraftwerk continue to tour the world with their multi-media spectaculars - they were due to play London this summer before the Coronavirus took over - but Hutter is the only original member left. Best to remember them as they were in their pomp: matching outfits, slicked-back hair, standing stock-still at their keyboards and changing the face of the musical map at every turn.
Auf Wiedersehen, Florian.
Danke.

Finally, a quick shout-out to the incomparable Richard Penniman - otherwise known as Little Richard - who has left the world at the grand old age of 87. An absolute force of nature in his time, it's difficult to imagine how his extraordinary act was accepted in the straight-laced mid-50's of post-war America. Black, openly bisexual, astonishingly flamboyant and blessed with a quick wit and a sharp tongue, it's a wonder he didn't disappear as quickly as he arrived - possibly with the aid of J. Edgar Hoover and his paranoid Federal Bureau of Investigation. And yet, Little Richard thrived during that first flush of eye-opening, trailblazing rock and roll music that turned the world upside down. The songs helped of course: 'Tutti Frutti', 'Long Tall Sally', 'Good Golly Miss Molly', 'Lucille'. Utter classics, one and all. Performing these songs on early TV broadcasts wearing brightly coloured zoot suits whilst standing at the piano, wiggling his hips, licking his lips and winking at the cameras, Little Richard must have seemed like an alien creature to the parents of 50's teenagers - here to steal their offspring away to some far-off Bacchanalian nightmare. The kids of course lapped it up, and Richard was a huge star in a matter of months. He gave it all up within a few years - renouncing what he called "the devil's music" - and turned to spiritual matters, becoming a preacher in his home state of Georgia. The music came and went, some of it good but most of it forgettable. 'Lifetime Friend' from 1986 - which included the fantastic 'Great Gosh A'Mighty' - was his last true decent collection. His first few years on the rock and roll scene were the foundations of his legacy and with good reason.
He was, in his own words, "The King - and Queen - of boogie-woogie!"
All hail The Quasar Of Rock And Roll!

LITTLE RICHARD: December 5th 1932 - May 9th 2020