These Are People Who Died, 2024

Salute your sergeant, puny mortals!

The year of our Lord 2024 A.D. was a great year.

For SMILING SERGEANT DEATH !!!! 

Seriously, this last year was a hard one for losing musicians I loved, many of which since childhood.

It seemed the early part of the year was the worst. 

For awhile there, it seemed I was having to work up radio tributes every Sunday night.

The march slowed a little, but it continued throughout the year.

I played a tribute to some of these late greats on last Sunday's Terrell's Sound World. But I didn't have time for all of them.  

So here are songs from those named above plus others whose deaths moved me last year -- but didn't move me nearly as much as their music has moved me for who knows how many years. Each one has a link to an actual obituary with more info on these remarkable people.

It's certainly not an exhaustive list, so if I missed your favorite ... WRITE YOUR OWN DAMN BLOG!

So hnere goes: 

Let's start with my fellow Okie and rockabilly guitar whiz Larry Collins.  He started his musical career, with his older sister Lorri Collins in a wild duo called The Collins Kids. When I first saw this video, I used to tease my son -- who was about as old as Larry is here -- that The Collins kids looked like him and his then teenage cousin, Lauren. And it was true!

Cajun rocker Jo-El Sonier  was a mighty mighty man. He died in January right after a show in Texas. In addition to his classic Cajun material, the accordion ace probably was best known for his cover of Richard Thompson's "Tear Stained Letter." He also did a dandy version of The Blasters' "So Long Baby, Goodbye, as you'll see below:

Then there was sweet Mary Weiss, who I loved even before I saw The Shangri-Las in Oklahoma City back in ntheir mid '60s heyday. "Leader of the Pack" was their most famous song. But "I Can Never Go Home Anymore" (were these gals Thomas Wolfe fans?) has always been my favorite:

Wayne Kramer, guitarist for The MC5 early in his career, also arose as a solo artist. I got to see him at South by Southwest one year (late '90s I think). He didn't play this old tune when I saw him, but I bet Rev. Gary Davis and Dave Van Ronk would approve:

And then wildman Mojo Nixon died during this year's Outlaw Country Cruise. I always wanted to go on one of those to see him and other musicians I loved. Now it doesn't seem that appealing:

Dex Romweber's death hit me hard. His sister Sara, the drummer for the Dex Romweber Duo -- yes, I had a long-distance crush on her -- preceded him in death just a few years ago. I was a latecomer to The Flat Duo Jets, the two-man band that introduced the world to Dex. But his latter-day DMD records always were fantastic:

 

Chicago's Steve Albini was known mostly as a producer -- working for bands like Pixies, Nirvana, Jon Spencer, The Breeders and Jesus Lizard, but also alt country artists like Will Oldham and Robbie Fulks. But he was himself in a few bands, my favorite of which was Big Black. Here's my favorite song from their best album Songs About Fucking:

Jerry Miller was one of three guitarists for the great Summer of Love band that should have gotten much bigger, Moby Grape. He also was a songwriter for the group. This is one of my favorites he wrote:

Goddamn it, how could we have lost Kinky Friedman and Mojo in the same year? I had the pleasure of opening for Kinky at two Albuquerque shows in the early 1990s. Below is a live performance of one of his greatest songs:

Because of his success in television comedy -- I still love watching the late '70s local TV talk show parody Fernwood 2 Night on Youtube -- Martin Mull usually is thought of more as an actor or comedian in recent decades. But I knew him first as a singer. A singer of hilarious songs to be sure, but a singer. I was completely unaware of him until I saw him open for The Pointer Sisters at Popejoy Hall in the mid '70s. I became an instant fan. A year or so later, I saw him at another Popejoy show, opening, I think, for Leo Kottke. So let's not forget Martin's musical career. Here's one of my favorite Mull tunes, with Melissa Manchester singing backup:

Jeanie McLerie wasn't as well known as most the others on this list but she was an impressive folk musician. She wasn't a Cajun and wasn't born in Louisiana, though she lived there several years before moving to New Mexico. She and her husband, Ken Keppeler for the past few decades made up the core of the folk band Bayou Seco. I knew Jeanie and Ken when they lived in Santa Fe for a few years in the early '80s. I have a wonderful memory of the two playing in my living room. Seeing my daughter Molly, then an infant, watching, I thought of how lucky my baby was being able to witness such fine music, even if she wouldn't have any specific memories of it when she grew up. Jeanie and Ken later moved to Albuquerque for a few years, then down to Silver City, where they lived for the last few decades. Here's a live video of Bayou Seco:

Kris Kristofferson. This guy was just a behemoth of a songwriter. Probably a dumb comparison, but I consider him the Leonard Cohen of country music. Here's one of my favorite songs of his: 

Barbara Dane was an amazing singer. She was known in folk music circles as a civil rights activist and singer of protest songs. (She also was married for awhile to my old friend, the late folk singer Rolf Cahn.) She also became a jazz singer, performing with the likes of Louis Armstrong and Gene Krupa and blues greats like Muddy Waters, Memphis Slim and Willie Dixon. Here she is with The Chambers Brothers:

Clarence "Frogman" Henry could sing like a girl and he could sing like a frog. He died in April at the age of 87. Here's his signature song:

Phil Lesh, the bassist and (very) occasional singer for The Grateful Dead left us in late October. Here's his greatest song:

Dickey Betts, a guitarist for The Allman Brothers Band, didn't sing as much as Gregg Allman. But he sang lead on their biggest hit, "Rambling Man," as well as this sweet tune:   

I don't really believe in Heaven -- except Dog and Cat Heaven -- but for the sake of all these wonderous musicians, I hope there is a Rock 'n' Roll Heaven! Rest in Music, all!

UPDATE JAN. 1, 2025

I just realized, after reading Jim Caligiuri's more comprehensive list on his Substack.

I'd actually played a song by Chance on last Sunday's radio show along with others on this list!

So, sorry James, but thanks, Jim ...

Sax maniac James Chance, who was  was one of the true guiding lights of the No-Wave scene in New York in the late '70s and early '80s, his compatriots being Suicide, Lydia Lunch, and others. Born James Siegfried, he became "James Chance" fronting his band The Contortions. They played a wild, discordant brew of punky, funky, artsy sometimes fartsy jazz noise. At one point in the '80s Chance took a chance and changed the name of his act to James White & The Blacks for a wild album called Off White. 

Here's Chance with a latter-day version of The Contortions from Chance's final album The Flesh Is Weak (2016). Let's just say I don't think Frank done it this way!