[tws]



For those of you who don't know, Alex Chilton, one of the truly great American songwriters, died at the age of 59 this week. He's been eulogized left and right by music websites with plenty of expansive links and citations, so I just figured I'd write a quick thing here about what the dude meant to me.

As always, I got pissed off when CNN posted the story (buried underneath celebrity stories) about the Box Tops singer who passed away. To be fair, about 98% of the people who knew who Alex Chilton was knew him from an iconic hit single he had when he was 16 called "The Letter." The other 2% who got to know him through Big Star (like yours truly) were much luckier.

I found out about Big Star in the pages of Rolling Stone sometime in the late 90's and decided to check them out. I didn't know much about the history of the guys who comprised the band, but I did understand the context. Alex Chilton, who started Big Star in Memphis at the ripe old age of 21 after his pop group disbanded, had no ambition to reach the top of the charts again. Well, maybe he did, but if he had, he was going to do that on his own terms. By the early 70's, rock was beginning to take itself way too seriously, and bands like Big Star who played simple, heartfelt rock songs were falling by the wayside in the name of proggy shit and flambuoyant, glammy singers taking advantage of cocaine-fueled studio budgets (no disrespect to Elton John). Power Pop just didn't really make sense to a lot of people.

So, in retrospect, it's strange that, as someone who grew up well after the 70's had ended, #1 Record and Radio City with classics like "The Ballad of El Goodo," "Don't Lie to Me," and "September Gurls," sound exactly like this romanticized idea we have of that era- muscle cars, sideburns, sharing moments with friends with big hair. But don't take my word for it, just watch any episode of "That 70's Show," and hear Big Star's "On the Street" finagled into the theme song.

I remember hiking up a mountain in Maine on July 4, 2005, with "Back of a Car" stuck in my head for some reason. When my friends and I got to the summit and laid out to rest, I listened to that song about 6 times in a row, for reasons I still don't know why, other than it captured the way I was feeling at the moment and is a really fucking good song.


Have I mentioned that "Thirteen" is the best song ever written (or probably ever will be written) about adolescence? But if you knew Big Star you probably already shared that opinion.



My favorite Alex Chilton story was in Michael Azerrad's book Our Band Could Be Your Life (Read it!). In his chapter about Butthole Surfers, he talks about their singer, Gibby Haynes completely freaking out on acid at some American music festival. Apparently, he'd frightened everyone away from backstage area, flipping the hell out and hurting himself, possibly on purpose. A guy walked in, asking to borrow one of his band's guitars. "YOU WANT TO BORROW A GUITAR? AND JUST WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU!? WHO! THE! FUCK! ARE! YOU!" said Gibby (or something to that effect). The guy took his shades off, and without batting an eyelash said, "I'm Alex Chilton." Gibby immediately calmed down, stood up straight, and gave Chilton a welcome gesture toward the guitars, saying that they were all his for the borrowing. I don't know if Gibby Haynes was just coming down really quickly or not, but THAT'S indie rock star power if I've ever heard of it.

I'm still surprised that one of the best summations of Chilton's legacy came from a Tennessee congressman. Steve Cohen brought him up on the house floor (video here): "[Alex Chilton] wanted to play music, and he did it. And he did it his own way: independent. Iconoclastic. Innovative."

I'm still not entirely sure why Chilton's death hit me in such a weird way, since I never knew the guy and wouldn't describe myself as a superfan by any means, but hopefully now it's a little bit clearer. RIP.