Rock-n-Roll will never die.
Today is the anniversary of Elvis Presley’s death at age 42, in 1977. Now that the dust has settled over the Amy Winehouse tragedy, I think this is a good time to talk about rock-n-roll and death. Rock stars don’t wear old age very well, with very few exceptions. David Bowie seems to be aging gracefully, facelifts aside. All I have to say is “Rolling Stones.” Keith Richards and Mick Jagger should have died long ago. They have no mystique, no aura. Then there is the Club 27- Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix, Kurt Cobain, need I say more? It should be the duty of every rock star to die at the age of 27. They are given access to unlimited sex, drugs and whatever else they want. Look at Phil Spector dancing around his house in a batman suit. He should have died back in the Sixties. And before you give me grief, he is a rock star. Just because he never performed on a stage, he had a tremendous influence on popular and rock music, so he qualifies as a rock star. Period. Maybe if he’d blown his own head off a few decades ago, that poor woman he murdered might still be alive.