Overture
I have never been an autograph hound, don’t consider myself as the star struck type, yet there I was one mid-90’s summer afternoon, making haste to get to a local music retailer with the hope of saying hello to someone whom I deemed instrumental in contributing to the virtual soundtrack of my life. The rare in-store appearance to promote the release of an upcoming CD would precede their appearance that evening at New Jersey’s Meadowlands.
I was willing to overlook the fact that they would be performing in the parking lot at the annual summer fair, rather than inside the mammoth arena.
“Yes, how the mighty hath fallen," I thought to myself, recalling the band’s glory days some two decades earlier as one of the most influential acts in rock and roll history. Not the stalker type, I was not a purist either. Sure, the man directly responsible for all of the music that had taken the once great Electric Light Orchestra to a remarkable degree of success wanted no part in this new incarnation, aptly titled E.L.O Part II, but the current members; some of whom had contributed to that stratospheric achievement, had quite literally resurrected the music of my adolescent years.
First Movement
Turning the street corner, I prepared myself for what would certainly amount to an endless wait at the rear of an equally interminable line, yet arriving at the site unencumbered, I witnessed what the retail community would consider a dismal business day. Shaking my head in disbelief, confusion swiftly turned to shock as I looked upon the mind-boggling sight of a band member standing on line to purchase guitar strings.
“Why is he standing on line like a common customer,” I shockingly wondered!
Upon further inspection, I recognized some of the other band mates aimlessly standing about, looking decidedly unhappy.
Warily approaching the bassist, I shyly asked, “Is there an autograph signing happening here?”
"No," he laughed loudly, flamboyantly waving his arms in the air, comically calling attention to the almost ethereal, library like atmosphere.
“We have nothing to sign," his voice piercingly echoed.
I looked around nervously, expecting an immediate admonishment from one of the nonplussed sales clerks.
Until that very moment, the absence of any band related paraphernalia on display had escaped me. It was a scene right out of Spinal Tap, the hysterical mid-80’s cinematic romp detailing the rise and fall of a fictional rock and roll band.
"Well, what's happening then," I persisted.
"I'll tell you what's happening. We’re going to kick the crap out of our bloody manager, that's what. You may want to stick around a bit."
Interlude
His name was Kelly Groucutt. Joining the Electric Light Orchestra in 1974, he quickly became a fan favorite onstage, adding his distinctive voice as lead vocalist on several of the bands greatest hits. Notably, while not an original member at the bands inception in the earlier part of the decade, he was imminently the most recognizable and remembered band member long after their fade into rock and roll obscurity.
Should you be scratching your collective heads in confusion, wondering how this tale may fall under the jurisdiction of anything Forest Hills related, I temporarily defer to this periodical’s last name; Entertainment. However, should that not suffice; Mr. Groucutt was born in Staffordshire England in 1945. I often wonder whether he may have grown up in a dwelling similar to those of which I admire as I meander through The Gardens each evening upon my return from the working day world.
There’s your Forest Hills connection.
Second Movement
The “Part Two” years in the E.L.O. legacy were often embroiled in lawsuits over ownership of the actual Electric Light Orchestra name. By 2000, when drummer Bev Bevan; the only original member had called it quits, the band, now left with even less credibility also found themselves sans identity; a literal rock and roll John Doe.
Walking into the small Long Island Playhouse, the marquee and lobby stripped of all references to the band now formerly known as ELO2, I sadly wondered, “hath the mighty fall any further?”
With a sense of both professionalism and bravado, the band played on, paying reverence to that timeless creed, the show must go on. Following the final encore for which they received vigorous applause from the tiny, yet packed house, I waited outside the backstage door with a scant few others where I briefly regaled Kelly with the tale of our previous meeting under bizarrely similar circumstances.
"Not one of our brightest moments,” he laughingly agreed.
"It must be odd fulfilling these gigs without a name.”
"Did you have a good time tonight," he asked, still smiling.
"Absolutely."
"Ah, what's in a name anyway," he joked as we posed together for a picture that means so much more to me today than it did back then.
Finale
Whether a nameless face in a sea of many at the end of the show, or one of the dedicated few who has stuck around through thick and thin, the brief opportunity to speak with someone who has touched so many lives through his craft is often too short. Kelly Groucutt suffered a fatal heart attack in the days immediately following the completion of the German leg of their 2009 tour, leaving in his wake a gaping hole impossible to fill. His dynamic stage presence and rapport with audiences both on and off that stage were awe-inspiring. Honest, sincere and genuine, he left us with the magic of music, and laughter in our hearts. I am both humbled and honored; having met someone whom was not just a part of music royalty, but who stood taller than most, and faced the world smiling, either looking down from the top, or up from the bottom.
Kelly, quite simply, you will be sorely missed.
Rest in Peace, dear friend.
I have never been an autograph hound, don’t consider myself as the star struck type, yet there I was one mid-90’s summer afternoon, making haste to get to a local music retailer with the hope of saying hello to someone whom I deemed instrumental in contributing to the virtual soundtrack of my life. The rare in-store appearance to promote the release of an upcoming CD would precede their appearance that evening at New Jersey’s Meadowlands.
I was willing to overlook the fact that they would be performing in the parking lot at the annual summer fair, rather than inside the mammoth arena.
“Yes, how the mighty hath fallen," I thought to myself, recalling the band’s glory days some two decades earlier as one of the most influential acts in rock and roll history. Not the stalker type, I was not a purist either. Sure, the man directly responsible for all of the music that had taken the once great Electric Light Orchestra to a remarkable degree of success wanted no part in this new incarnation, aptly titled E.L.O Part II, but the current members; some of whom had contributed to that stratospheric achievement, had quite literally resurrected the music of my adolescent years.
First Movement
Turning the street corner, I prepared myself for what would certainly amount to an endless wait at the rear of an equally interminable line, yet arriving at the site unencumbered, I witnessed what the retail community would consider a dismal business day. Shaking my head in disbelief, confusion swiftly turned to shock as I looked upon the mind-boggling sight of a band member standing on line to purchase guitar strings.
“Why is he standing on line like a common customer,” I shockingly wondered!
Upon further inspection, I recognized some of the other band mates aimlessly standing about, looking decidedly unhappy.
Warily approaching the bassist, I shyly asked, “Is there an autograph signing happening here?”
"No," he laughed loudly, flamboyantly waving his arms in the air, comically calling attention to the almost ethereal, library like atmosphere.
“We have nothing to sign," his voice piercingly echoed.
I looked around nervously, expecting an immediate admonishment from one of the nonplussed sales clerks.
Until that very moment, the absence of any band related paraphernalia on display had escaped me. It was a scene right out of Spinal Tap, the hysterical mid-80’s cinematic romp detailing the rise and fall of a fictional rock and roll band.
"Well, what's happening then," I persisted.
"I'll tell you what's happening. We’re going to kick the crap out of our bloody manager, that's what. You may want to stick around a bit."
Interlude
His name was Kelly Groucutt. Joining the Electric Light Orchestra in 1974, he quickly became a fan favorite onstage, adding his distinctive voice as lead vocalist on several of the bands greatest hits. Notably, while not an original member at the bands inception in the earlier part of the decade, he was imminently the most recognizable and remembered band member long after their fade into rock and roll obscurity.
Should you be scratching your collective heads in confusion, wondering how this tale may fall under the jurisdiction of anything Forest Hills related, I temporarily defer to this periodical’s last name; Entertainment. However, should that not suffice; Mr. Groucutt was born in Staffordshire England in 1945. I often wonder whether he may have grown up in a dwelling similar to those of which I admire as I meander through The Gardens each evening upon my return from the working day world.
There’s your Forest Hills connection.
Second Movement
The “Part Two” years in the E.L.O. legacy were often embroiled in lawsuits over ownership of the actual Electric Light Orchestra name. By 2000, when drummer Bev Bevan; the only original member had called it quits, the band, now left with even less credibility also found themselves sans identity; a literal rock and roll John Doe.
Walking into the small Long Island Playhouse, the marquee and lobby stripped of all references to the band now formerly known as ELO2, I sadly wondered, “hath the mighty fall any further?”
With a sense of both professionalism and bravado, the band played on, paying reverence to that timeless creed, the show must go on. Following the final encore for which they received vigorous applause from the tiny, yet packed house, I waited outside the backstage door with a scant few others where I briefly regaled Kelly with the tale of our previous meeting under bizarrely similar circumstances.
"Not one of our brightest moments,” he laughingly agreed.
"It must be odd fulfilling these gigs without a name.”
"Did you have a good time tonight," he asked, still smiling.
"Absolutely."
"Ah, what's in a name anyway," he joked as we posed together for a picture that means so much more to me today than it did back then.
Finale
Whether a nameless face in a sea of many at the end of the show, or one of the dedicated few who has stuck around through thick and thin, the brief opportunity to speak with someone who has touched so many lives through his craft is often too short. Kelly Groucutt suffered a fatal heart attack in the days immediately following the completion of the German leg of their 2009 tour, leaving in his wake a gaping hole impossible to fill. His dynamic stage presence and rapport with audiences both on and off that stage were awe-inspiring. Honest, sincere and genuine, he left us with the magic of music, and laughter in our hearts. I am both humbled and honored; having met someone whom was not just a part of music royalty, but who stood taller than most, and faced the world smiling, either looking down from the top, or up from the bottom.
Kelly, quite simply, you will be sorely missed.
Rest in Peace, dear friend.
* Photo's courtesy Ken Latta/orchestra.net
6 comments:
Thanks for your story. I really did not think his passing would still mist me up this long.
Wow. I love how you set this piece up. I am definitely quite sure that you need to find the time to pursue this writing of yours. It is such a waste for you not to. Maybe even write book or something.
Just beautiful.
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The post of ELO, Super honestly really fantastic, which made it less able to subscribe to my blog is: www.spiritofelo.blogspot.com
The post of ELO, Super honestly really fantastic, which made it less able to subscribe to my blog is: www.spiritofelo.blogspot.com
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