When rock stars fall sick... no, scratch that. When our rock stars fall sick, we fall sick with them. Whether they are unknown musicians in the local bar band whose playing we've come to adore, or be they the larger-than-life, world famous rock stars, when they fall sick, a part of us is lying in that bed with them.
Everyone knows I'm not talking about the flu, right? We're talking really sick. November 24, 1991 was a horrible day for me, but I didn't understand until a few years ago exactly to what extent. My favorite band being Kiss, that day was black as Eric Carr, Kiss drummer since 1980, died due to cancer of the heart after having been in a comma for some time. The news fell on me like a ton of bricks and it was the first time I remember crying for something that had to do with the world of rock. I was a teenage kid crying due to the death of a hero of mine. Sadly, that type of fanaticism doesn't exist anymore, but we'll cover that topic later on.
The thing is, on that same dark day for rock music, Freddie Mercury, Queen singer, died - of AIDS complications -, too. I became a Queen fan late in life, to tell the truth, and I became a big Queen fan even later, but the fact still struck me.
When you are a fan of someone and that someone falls sick, and might even die, you are there on that bed with them. If they die, a part of you dies that will never be reborn because that hero of yours gave you something that, at least in that particular way, nobody else gave you: the gift of music. Their music. Your music.
Everyone knows I'm not talking about the flu, right? We're talking really sick. November 24, 1991 was a horrible day for me, but I didn't understand until a few years ago exactly to what extent. My favorite band being Kiss, that day was black as Eric Carr, Kiss drummer since 1980, died due to cancer of the heart after having been in a comma for some time. The news fell on me like a ton of bricks and it was the first time I remember crying for something that had to do with the world of rock. I was a teenage kid crying due to the death of a hero of mine. Sadly, that type of fanaticism doesn't exist anymore, but we'll cover that topic later on.
The thing is, on that same dark day for rock music, Freddie Mercury, Queen singer, died - of AIDS complications -, too. I became a Queen fan late in life, to tell the truth, and I became a big Queen fan even later, but the fact still struck me.
When you are a fan of someone and that someone falls sick, and might even die, you are there on that bed with them. If they die, a part of you dies that will never be reborn because that hero of yours gave you something that, at least in that particular way, nobody else gave you: the gift of music. Their music. Your music.
1 comment:
Do you really believe that kind of fans, the fans that cry for their heroes, don't exist anymore? I thought you knew me better. That makes us two.
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