How it's taken me a full two weeks (exactly, I believe) to get around to this is a sad reflection upon my state of being at present, but be that as it may...
Glen Campbell's death - though long expected, including by myself, even only a couple months if that previously, when mention of him by the esteemed Jim Mora of Radio New Zealand National immediately distressed me into thinking he'd died then - shouldn't really have taken any of us by surprise, as he'd struggled with the gruesome and progressively worsening Alzheimer's Disease for well on half a dozen years or so. Yet when it finally 'arrived' two Tuesdays ago (I think) it carried an ironic and somewhat bitter twist for me.
You see, I'd long determined...though as a chronic procrastinator, or more accurately and aptly, a lifelong over-committer, I simply hadn't *gotten around to it...to having a special gospel LP played at my own funeral (on my behalf, whenever that so happened to be/transpire), throughout the 'event'; but simply have never gotten onto adding that 'proviso' to a long-intended update in my will. Said album contains half a dozen songs per side, the timeless GC-versions of Standing on the Promises, What A Friend We Have In Jesus, Softly and Tenderly, Sweet Hour of Prayer, I Surrender All, and The Lord's Prayer upon side A, and tall Oak Tree, Sweet By And By, I See Love, Farther Along, In The Garden, and Suddenly There's A Valley, on side B (in that particular order). At least side one could be played through in its entirety from start to finish...yes, that much is this 'testator's' own wishes, let one and all be well assured!
His hits - sure, invariably (pretty much all I believe) written by others, especially the brilliant Jim Webb, became his own masterpieces, as if he'd created them entirely himself...though perhaps that's more a reflection upon how the visible one gets all the glory...and the one toiling on his or her lonesome in the background invariably gets little of the limelight, much less the deserved glory... . Our (i.e. Aotearoa-New Zealand's) Government's cheerleader-in-chief, the narcissist par excellence known as Mike Hosking of Newstalk ZB and Seven Sharp infamy and shameless self-promotion, nevertheless - though in an entirely unrelated context - tonight summed up the scenario I'm seeking to convey by stating, in a little verbal interchange with his co-host Toni Street, that "if you can't do something yourself, then get someone else to do it for you". Which of course is what the likes of Jim Webb and Bernie Taupin did with heir respective hits which Glen Campbell and Elton John respectively have carried on to heights of fame and fortune.
Yes, America's inimitable Glen Campbell sang all these (aforementioned gospel greats) with passion and commitment, with melody and harmony, with grace and poise, with style and uniqueness - a brand all his very own. And as for his myriad of celebrated hits/hit singles, it'd literally be hard, well-nigh impossible even, to list them all...were one that way so inclined...and as my readership well knows by now, on a better day (at a much earlier time of the day), I well might - I wouldn't put it past myself, anyway, let's say...
Nevertheless let's try - a little - anyhow...though upon second thoughts, with shuteye well-and-truly not only beckoning, but veritably screaming at me now, I'll forgo that little luxury, except to say that, though like many I very enjoyed the likes of Wichita Lineman, Where's the Playground, Susie, and Galveston - and even the sometimes pilloried Rhinestone Cowboy - my all-time favourites were GC's state-of-the-art versions of three songs in particular: He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother; (From) Both Sides Now; and topping even those two, or at least the former...Try A Little Kindness...which simple but profound song I recall singing loudly on various occasions as my way of 'getting my own back' upon the injustices and moreover the particular perpetrators thereof that I've occasionally found my footsteps dogged and my life bedeviled by. Preaching at such folk as if to tell them there's a way of life much better and higher and more noble and glorious way up beyond the petty, insular and self-serving spheres in which they themselves seem to continually operate.
A disclaimer I must inevitably bring myself to make here, lest I somehow thus (even seem to) align myself with a style of music that quite frankly I normally don't even have the time of day...much less night - for, is that I've never - at least consciously, let's concede (for the record) - even remotely been a fan of country music per se... . And yet for me Glen Campbell - and John Denver, for that matter - raised that particular musical genre to an art form and position of greatness only equalled (in my lowly estimate) in other musical spheres by, on the one hand, kids' songs of special memory and cherishing such as Flick the Fire-Engine, HR Puf 'n Stuff, Puff the Magic Dragon, The Magnificant Men in Their Flying Machine, and yes, even - shock, horror - Snoopy's Christmas, on another by such classic 'operatic' love songs as Oliver's I'd Do Anything and Where is Love, the Sound of Music's Edelweis, and Mary Poppins' Feed the Birds, on another by Ed Ames' Love of The Common People, and - last but certainly not least - by that grand duo of yesteryear Art Garfunkel and Paul Simon. Oh yes, and Jules Riding, Randy Stonehill and Keith Green - and Amy Grant.
Yes, enough again already - I know. Though in concluding I really can't help myself in noting the predictable way in which Glen Campbell's passing was barely noted in the media - in comparison, that is, with such other celebrated singer-songwriters as David Bowie (and even the insubstantial Minneapolis' 'Prince') awhile ago ...let alone such overrated singer-songwriters as the idolized-to-the-rafters Michael Jackson, who I'll concede did in his tender youth compose and make famous the beautiful 'Ben'...I used to play on the family piano. . No, as with (on a much more modest scale, please understand) the way in which Mother Teresa's death was passed over in a once over lightly fashion by Western media - but certainly not in her new-found home of India where she was given a state funeral - a week after Princess Diana's shock death brought the Western world pretty well to a standstill; so the youthful Jackson and 'Prince' - like other songsters who've died very young, 'before their time' - were doted on by media for days on end, the fourth estate verily feeding off the entrails and carrion of their lives much like the proverbial vultures devouring a carcass choice morsel by choice morsel, contrasted with the way in which GC also was treated to a once over lightly and asap by selfsame media.
No, the relative alacrity with which Glen Campbell's unique genius vanished into obscurity, the 'clean-cut conservative' of simple, old-fashioned values not really being or representing the sort of person our contemporary culture esteems as worthy of very much (remembrance let alone celebration), except for the briefest of reviews as already described, was 'el usual media' treatment eminently unbefitting of GC's special brand of greatness...which simply flowed out of the sort of decent and God-fearing human being he ever was...
But be that as it may, and indeed as Diana's brother Earl Spencer himself noted (or at least in my own paraphrase thereof) - among many other equally memorable things - in his simply unforgettable if highly controversial obituary speech at her funeral, the truly great don't actually need others' acclamations and plaudits to add any lustre to their greatness...for, to all who will (have ears and eyes to hear and see) it's patently clear and evident anyhow... .
So good-bye Glen, and thank you to his family - and moreover Maker - for lending him to us for awhile...he not only won't pass this way again, but I somehow doubt we'll see his kind again...ever. More's the pity.
*Cf my oldest sister's unforgettable t-shirt (or whatever, I can't quite remember) emblazoned with that memorable phrase 'a round tuit'.
No comments:
Post a Comment