Here To Eternity

I’ve been thinking a lot about what Joe Strummer’s death means to me since my last post. I haven’t been a Clash fan for very long, the band has been mostly a very recent revelation for myself. This time last year, I didn’t give the band much thought at all, honestly. So, in a very selfish way, Strummer’s music was mostly very new to me, and I’m upset that I’ll never get to see him perform. Another far more personal thing that’s been bothering me about his death is that he was only a couple years younger than either of my parents, so it also speaks to my growing fear about either of them suddenly passing away in a way similar to Joe Strummer. I wonder if Strummer and his family even knew that he was ill, because these sort of sudden surprise heart attacks are not uncommon, and its certainly not without precedent in my own family.

I also wonder what my reaction would be like if a musician for whom I have an even greater affection died – like, say, a member of Sonic Youth or Stephen Malkmus or Bob Pollard. If I’m crushed and moping around after the deaths of Joe Strummer and Mary Hansen, what kind of state could I be in if it were someone whose work I’m far more emotionally involved in?

Anyway, Jody Beth Rosen has written something far more articulate about this than anything I can manage lately, so check that out if you’ve got a few minutes.

Oh – I’d like to know exactly what this person means by “Is it just me, or does anyone else get the feeling that Punk’s First Wave is fading away…and not burning out.” How exactly should have Joe Strummer and Joey Ramone died, may I ask? (Barring the obvious answer ‘not so fucking young!’) How should they have “burned out”? I’d hate to think that Sid Vicious and Kurt Cobain are better models of how to die.