Remembering a Big Star - On Alex Chilton ...
By Eric Shapiro - Skidmore News - posted 3-26-2010
On March 17, Alex Chilton died at age 59 in New Orleans, Louisiana. In the days following his passing, musicians obscure and world-famous paid their respects to one of rock 'n' roll's unsung heroes, a man whose incalculable influence on the art form is directly disproportionate to his commercial success.
Chilton is most remembered for his stint as guitarist, vocalist and songwriter for Big Star, which lasted from the band's inception in 1971 to their dissolution in 1975, as well as their subsequent reunion tours.
Like John Lennon and Paul McCartney, to whom he and songwriting partner (albeit for Big Star's first album No. 1 Record only) Chris Bell have been compared, Chilton never forgot the importance of strong melodies and plentiful hooks, which stood out at a time when such things typically took a back seat to musical chops and prog rock pretension. Every song Chilton wrote for Big Star is memorable, if not a classic, ostensibly simple but packed with unpredictable chord changes and unexpected melodic turns that adhere to your brain.
Alex Chilton did not break new sonic ground or redefine what rock music is capable of from a technical standpoint like The Velvet Underground or Sonic Youth. Nevertheless, his approach to songwriting was a major revelation. At a time when countless songwriters wear their emotions on their sleeves, it is easy to dismiss Chilton's heartfelt songs as exceptionally well crafted but fundamentally generic. On the contrary, Chilton's work only seems familiar today because so many artists have imitated it.
Traditionally, pop songs dealing with love and relationships, being primarily concerned with appealing to a mass audience, were not particularly sophisticated or true to life. This is still largely true today. On the other extreme are songwriters in the vein of Bob Dylan and Stephen Malkmus, whose surreal, hyper-literate poetry deliberately keep the listener at arms length.
Then there's the political stuff. In the mid to late 1960s, rock 'n' roll singers, inspired by folk, incorporated political sentiment into their music, moving away from the peaks and valleys of mundane, everyday experience in favor of "big statements." Ever since, popular music has not hesitated to dip its toe in political waters.
Chilton's approach to songwriting was simultaneously quaint and radically different in the early 1970s. His songs were brutally honest and personal, but they also appealed to young adults experiencing similar emotional roller coaster rides. This was at a time when rock 'n' roll was quickly descending into farce, with musicians dressing in tight leather pants and living out a rebellious lifestyle as hollow, artificial and conformist as the mainstream society the genre had emerged as a reaction against.
Chilton was genuine and unpretentious: a real person with real problems that young people could relate to. They may have envied and emulated the rockstars of the time, but they could identify with Chilton, who was someone who sang what he felt, without apology, even if it meant coming across as a complaining, hopelessly uncool sad sack. His deeply personal songwriting seemed trivial to the politically oriented and made emotionally sterile alpha males gag. But, it provided sensitive, moody outcasts, subsumed in the conflicted, angst-ridden turmoil of their inner lives, with music they could relate to. This is not to say Chilton was always dark or that only depressives could appreciate his work. He was just as capable of heartfelt love songs and blustery rebellion as he was of self-loathing.
Underlying his art, however, was an aching sensitivity, an afflicted soul in desperate need of catharsis. He did not hesitate to showcase the negative emotions so often shunted to the side in popular music. Chilton was devoted to portraying all components of the human experience, pleasant or not. Oftentimes, he mixed many different feelings into one song, sowing a tempest of confusion and uncertainty utterly true to life. Chilton's lyrics were simple but, in no small part due to his versatile, expressive singing, they portrayed incredibly complex emotional states, elevating rock music to a new level of authenticity.
His influence is particularly apparent in the alternative rock of the 1980s and 1990s, as well as some contemporary music. There would likely be no R.E.M., no Replacements, no Nirvana and no Elliott Smith without Chilton.
Amidst the army of cartoon characters in the crowded arena of rock music, clad in ridiculous costumes and face paint, standing above the crowd gyrating madly, Chilton is slouched in the corner gently strumming an acoustic guitar, modest, unassuming, self-absorbed and all the more beloved for it.
On March 17, Alex Chilton died at age 59 in New Orleans, Louisiana. In the days following his passing, musicians obscure and world-famous paid their respects to one of rock 'n' roll's unsung heroes, a man whose incalculable influence on the art form is directly disproportionate to his commercial success.
Chilton is most remembered for his stint as guitarist, vocalist and songwriter for Big Star, which lasted from the band's inception in 1971 to their dissolution in 1975, as well as their subsequent reunion tours.
Like John Lennon and Paul McCartney, to whom he and songwriting partner (albeit for Big Star's first album No. 1 Record only) Chris Bell have been compared, Chilton never forgot the importance of strong melodies and plentiful hooks, which stood out at a time when such things typically took a back seat to musical chops and prog rock pretension. Every song Chilton wrote for Big Star is memorable, if not a classic, ostensibly simple but packed with unpredictable chord changes and unexpected melodic turns that adhere to your brain.
Alex Chilton did not break new sonic ground or redefine what rock music is capable of from a technical standpoint like The Velvet Underground or Sonic Youth. Nevertheless, his approach to songwriting was a major revelation. At a time when countless songwriters wear their emotions on their sleeves, it is easy to dismiss Chilton's heartfelt songs as exceptionally well crafted but fundamentally generic. On the contrary, Chilton's work only seems familiar today because so many artists have imitated it.
Traditionally, pop songs dealing with love and relationships, being primarily concerned with appealing to a mass audience, were not particularly sophisticated or true to life. This is still largely true today. On the other extreme are songwriters in the vein of Bob Dylan and Stephen Malkmus, whose surreal, hyper-literate poetry deliberately keep the listener at arms length.
Then there's the political stuff. In the mid to late 1960s, rock 'n' roll singers, inspired by folk, incorporated political sentiment into their music, moving away from the peaks and valleys of mundane, everyday experience in favor of "big statements." Ever since, popular music has not hesitated to dip its toe in political waters.
Chilton's approach to songwriting was simultaneously quaint and radically different in the early 1970s. His songs were brutally honest and personal, but they also appealed to young adults experiencing similar emotional roller coaster rides. This was at a time when rock 'n' roll was quickly descending into farce, with musicians dressing in tight leather pants and living out a rebellious lifestyle as hollow, artificial and conformist as the mainstream society the genre had emerged as a reaction against.
Chilton was genuine and unpretentious: a real person with real problems that young people could relate to. They may have envied and emulated the rockstars of the time, but they could identify with Chilton, who was someone who sang what he felt, without apology, even if it meant coming across as a complaining, hopelessly uncool sad sack. His deeply personal songwriting seemed trivial to the politically oriented and made emotionally sterile alpha males gag. But, it provided sensitive, moody outcasts, subsumed in the conflicted, angst-ridden turmoil of their inner lives, with music they could relate to. This is not to say Chilton was always dark or that only depressives could appreciate his work. He was just as capable of heartfelt love songs and blustery rebellion as he was of self-loathing.
Underlying his art, however, was an aching sensitivity, an afflicted soul in desperate need of catharsis. He did not hesitate to showcase the negative emotions so often shunted to the side in popular music. Chilton was devoted to portraying all components of the human experience, pleasant or not. Oftentimes, he mixed many different feelings into one song, sowing a tempest of confusion and uncertainty utterly true to life. Chilton's lyrics were simple but, in no small part due to his versatile, expressive singing, they portrayed incredibly complex emotional states, elevating rock music to a new level of authenticity.
His influence is particularly apparent in the alternative rock of the 1980s and 1990s, as well as some contemporary music. There would likely be no R.E.M., no Replacements, no Nirvana and no Elliott Smith without Chilton.
Amidst the army of cartoon characters in the crowded arena of rock music, clad in ridiculous costumes and face paint, standing above the crowd gyrating madly, Chilton is slouched in the corner gently strumming an acoustic guitar, modest, unassuming, self-absorbed and all the more beloved for it.