I feel the pain of the family, friends, and fans of Michael Jackson at his untimely passing. It is a shock when someone dies, especially someone so loved. I was speaking to a friend today who went to console her friend who is a big fan of Michael’s, and in speaking to her I remembered when John Bonham died. I had a friend who ran a record shop who was a very big fan of Led Zeppelin. When I heard the news, I went straight over to his shop. The closed sign was on the door, but I knew he was there. He answered my calls to him, and when he let me in, we stood there hugging each other crying. I never forgot what he said, “Look at me – a grown man crying like a baby over someone I never knew. I may not have known him, but I knew him through his music, and it was so special to me. John feels like family, and this hurts.” I expect lot of Michael’s fans are feeling the same way today.

Some people dismiss the grief of fans as silly, but I say it is never silly to grieve the loss of someone who touched your life, even if you didn’t know them personally, and clearly Michael Jackson touched many lives with his music. Memories in Music would be pleased to add the memories of any of his fans that would like to share them on our website. Michael Jackson fans now, and his future fans, will be so happy to know your stories of seeing him in concert or meeting him, because they will never get that chance – but they can experience that joy through you.

If Michael influenced your life for the better, that is just something more to add to his amazing legacy. It is a sad day, but there is something good to think about – Michael’s music remains, and because it will, you will never really have to say goodbye.

I feel bad for Trent Reznor. The creative genius of Nine Inch Nails is having a hard time with “fans.” I think you have to put that word in quotes sometimes, because the way some people act towards people they claim to admire leaves one wondering. I think a lot of them are fans of themselves and use people like Trent to hear themselves talk or to feel important. It’s all about them, not about the musician.

Trent was being rather open about his life on Twitter, being in love. This is easy enough to do because whatever is on your mind you can just post on Twitter, or wherever you happen to be on the web. Yeah, it may not be the smartest thing, but it happens. He probably felt safe, and maybe thought, ‘Well, my fans care about me and being more open is good.’ But Trent discovered that some female fans were using his posts in a not-so-caring-about-him way on some website populated with people so inclined. He said, “I approached that (Twitter) as a place to be less formal and more off-the-cuff, honest and “human”. I was not expecting to broadcast details of my love life there, but it happened because I’m in love and it’s all I think about and that’s that.” The problem is, you can’t be honest and human with some people because they have no idea how to behave appropriately. We’ve become so focused on expressing whatever we want, we have forgotten that there are real people behind our comments, fantasies, opinions, and tale-telling, and words hurt. He went on to say, “Metal Sludge is the home of the absolutely worst people I’ve ever come across. It’s populated mainly by unattractive plump females who publicly fantasize about having sex with guys in bands. Kind of like a role-playing game where people NOBODY will fuck make up stories about their incredible sexual encounters with people they WISH they could fuck. It would be kind of funny in a sad and pathetic way except the fun doesn’t stop there – hate and good old-fashioned outright blatant racism are also encouraged to spice things up and remind you how truly ugly these scourges are. TRULY ugly on the inside.”

This type of thing reminds me why I want to have editorial control over what is published on my website about musicians. I’m going to think about them and their feelings, and not so much about the ‘rights’ of any person who comes along with a story to tell, a story that probably more than half is lies anyway. Yes you have a right to free speech, but not on my dime when it means you degrade it by not exercising concern for the person about whom you are speaking. Free speech is also degraded by those who give an ear to people who say anything with no regard for others. More selflessness and less selfishness is needed in our communications – badly needed.

I wonder about fans who listen to any kind of story about their musical heroes. Why the delight in the tales of people who betray musician’s friendships or relationships, or were placed in trusted positions in their lives and go on to write books or give interviews? I’m not talking about whistle-blowing for the good of society, just pure mean-spirited gossip about people that simply gave us music to enjoy. I just don’t get it.

Trent is getting beat up by the usual “He’s being a baby” crowd, or the “His fans made him what he is and he should remember that” brigade. Well, HE made himself what he is actually, and why shouldn’t he complain when he has been hurt? It seems some can say what they want, but the victim can’t. The victim just has to suck it up. Strange that.

I leave you with the words of Axl Rose of Guns N Roses. He got fed up too, and had a rant against a certain journalist in one of his songs, “Get in the Ring.” Surprise, surprise – the leopard did not change his spots, so in the light of recent events Axl’s song bears repeating:

And that goes for all you punks in the press
That want to start shit by printin’ lies
Instead of the things we said
That means you
Andy Secher at Hit Parader
Circus Magazine
MICK WALL at Kerrang

He goes on to complain they print lies and rip off the fans. In his own charming expletive filled way, Axl said what a lot of us want to say. But I’ll leave that to him. I’m just going to stick by my heroes and not give money, a platform, or credence to people who gossip about them, and make a place where the music and the musicians come first, not your story. Hang in there Trent, you might actually reach some people and change some things. Some people are listening, I just know they are!

As Julie Andrews sang, a very good place to start.  I was thinking back on the first music I can remember hearing (it’s been some time ago, now!)   It was my father’s.  He was not a professional or a famous musician, but he loved music and he played three instruments: harmonica, accordion, and clarinet (not all at once).

He must’ve picked up accordion being born and growing up in Amsterdam. Accordion was the instrument he was best at, and as a child I didn’t have my head filled with the notion that would later take hold in my generation: use an accordion, go to jail.  And he could really play that thing.   His most mind-blowing piece was (wait for it…) “Bolero.”  Yep, he could play all of “Bolero” on the accordion!  You’d think this would be something of a travesty, but it wasn’t, at all.  He would astound people with that.  Accordions are quite… flexible, you might say.  You can get a huge range of sound from them.   Deep in my heart I have a genuine appreciation of the instrument, not the polka kind of thing, but the fact that real (why, even sexy) music is possible on it.  That’s my Dad, all over.

Being from the World War II generation, he and my mom loved big bands, and my Dad was inspired to take up the clarinet.  He had two of them, a sleek black one and his pride and joy, a solid silver one, now lost in the mists of time (alas).  By the time I came along, years of smoking (and, sorry to say, drinking) had taken their toll, and he would only play clarinet a little, now and then.  What I remember most was the twinkle in his eye when he would take one out of its case and put it together.  He’d smile at me as though we shared a secret and he’d play some Benny Goodman.  Not quite like Benny Goodman, but the love was there, and that’s what mattered.

He never did stop playing harmonica though.  I have no idea how he picked that up, but he’d get the same twinkle in his eye, we’d share the same smile, when he pulled out his most excellent Hohner.  This is where the curious machinations of memory come in; although he played his harp all the time, for the life of me I can’t remember what he played.  Was it swing?  Western? Blues?  I have no idea, and thinking about it, I believe I know part of the reason why.   These are such early memories that I didn’t know the names of music, the different genres.   He was just my Dad blowing his harmonica. They were happy times, before he got sicker and sicker, with depression, alcoholism, and heart disease.   Obviously music got him through the horrors of living in Nazi occupied Amsterdam, though, and how remarkable is that?

He gave me my never-ending love of music, of all kinds.   In the same evening, he would go from playing opera on the stereo to bringing out the Hohner; anything went.  He bought me my first stereo record player and sometimes sat and listened to the Beatles with me (Beatlemania, a topic for another post!)  He had a tiny little smirk on his face (in the end, it’s fairly simple music) but one of my very fondest memories of him is the day he said “I get it! I get why you like this! It’s good.”

Thanks Dad, for giving me that thread of joy that has never left me. (Sorry, though – I know you tried, but I still don’t like opera… )

Some fans really make you smile when smiles are in short supply. Starting a new venture like Memories in Music has been difficult, and some days I wonder if I will make it succeed. The reason I wonder is because I had a lot of support for the idea when it was just talk at the beginning, but when the talk turned into reality and the time came for people to contribute and help the idea they thought was so fantastic to work, I mostly heard the chirping of crickets and the sound of tumble weed rolling across the barren landscape. Oh dear…

Then there is the criticism to deal with. I know not everyone will think my idea is smashing, but some criticism is hard to take when it is mean-spirited for no reason. When I got an email simply saying, “You are a whack job and I hope this will never work,” it hurt.  I had to wonder why I am bothering. Ouch.

But then I remember I am doing it because music makes me happy. The people who make the music that gives me so much joy also make me want to spread that joy. If you have read my site, you will know for me the number one person that brings me joy with music is Jimmy Page. I want to influence the world for good like he did. I know my influence won’t be as big as his, but if I can help people in need with the money I raise for charity, and make fans smile to recount their stories of how music influenced them, it will be worth the effort. One thing I have to keep reminding myself over and over again – nothing worthwhile is easy to do, so when it gets rough, I just have to keep going.

So, here I was feeling all down when I read this post on a Zeppelin fan listing. This fan is my kind of guy! He made me smile. This is the type of fan I am hoping will help with the charity fund raising, and will contribute to the company. He reminded me pursuing your dream is worth it because he shares the joy Jimmy gives me, and when you share that joy, you change the world around you for good. This post certainly changed my world for good. Here’s what he said:

If Jimmy Page announced he was coming to my hometown to recite Nursery School rhymes accompanying himself on the Fisher-Price xylophone, I would buy tickets. If he was going to bill himself and three hoboes as Led Zeppelin and charge $40 to hear him read the phone book aloud while they made underarm fart noises, I’d go, AND buy the t-shirt. Essentially, I’d take any opportunity to bask in his presence.

What a fabulous post! What great enthusiasm! Thank you John C. I’d take any opportunity to bask in Jimmy’s presence too, and if the above ever happens, please save a seat for me next to you. I’ll even buy you the t-shirt.

I made a decision a long time ago about the musicians I admire. That decision has been challenged a lot over the years, and just again this week, but I have stuck to it. I’m talking about talking about musicians. So many fans are into the ‘anything goes’ type of discussion, where you say anything you like and repeat any story about your heroes you’ve heard or read. Perhaps you’ve even witnessed what you are talking about, or you have had an occasion to be involved on a personal level with a musician. It doesn’t matter to me whichever category you fit of the above, I just won’t be involved in discussions that are too personal or inappropriate about their private lives.

The internet has made it possible for stories to spread at the speed of light, and true or not, hurtful or not, it matters not. Everyone feels they have a right to say whatever they want, and when you object, wow do you get a pasting from some quarters. People cry “whitewash!” and “censorship!” at you, sneer you are old fashioned and out of touch, or my personal favourite, “He/she makes so much money who cares?” Well, I do. And probably the people you are talking about do as well, because last time I checked making money did not erase feelings.

This all started for me because the musician I admire most in the world meant a lot to me from a really young age. He was like a Knight in Shining Armor to me, a hero, and I didn’t want to hear people telling nasties about him. I still don’t. OK, it can be called a silly fan thing, and I know he isn’t perfect, but refusing to participate in gossip and innuendo has a good principle behind it that I try and live by: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. People say all publicity is good publicity, but I disagree. Just for argument’s sake, maybe at the beginning of a career controversy might be good, just might. But by the time 20, 30, 40 years have passed, and still all your talent is forever connected to nonsense that happened a long time ago, it has to be irritating and I bet it hurts too. Would you want me to attach all your achievements to every person who had a relationship with you and tell all in every detail? How about if I find people who make things up and just lie about what happened and I repeat that all over everywhere? Maybe you wouldn’t mind if I found people who hated you and asked them to talk about you, or I tracked down your milkman, postman, employer, doctor, hotel maid, driver, window cleaner, gardener, or anyone who happened to deal with you and questioned them about your every move and their opinion on it? Personally I would be horrified, and I bet a lot of people reading this would be too.

Look, I’m not advocating censorship, just common sense and respect. Musicians didn’t get into the music biz so their private lives could be discussed by all and sundry. The genuine ones just wanted to give people their music. I’m so glad they did because music is one of the things that has held me together over the years. For all they give me, I think they deserve respect when they are being discussed.

At Memories in Music, I am going to do my best to provide an alternative place to the anything goes places. There are plenty of them around, so really I’d be redundant if I was like that. I am going to maintain editorial control and, dare I say it, whitewash. I freely admit it, I want a whitewash and I am proud to say so. For too long it has been all about mud. Even if the musician in question has been mad, bad, and downright scandalous, that has been talked about to death. It creeps into every conversation, every book, every tribute, every website, and I think it cheapens what musicians have given. Tell me the good stuff, the lovely stuff, the happy stuff! That’s what I am looking for. You know the dirt, now let’s move on. And if moving on is not your thing, you’re in luck! As I don’t believe in censorship, I will not be seeking to shut down the voices who want to keep giggling with Beavis and Butthead – go, run, be free! But if you’re a bit tired of that, drop in and see me. My hero?  Yep, his armor is still all shiny and intact.