Tag Archives: Keith Richards

LIONEL PODCAST: Amy Winehouse’s Ghoulish Death Watch Is Over? Who’s Next?

I know, it was a joke. Nobody seriously meant to prophesy or predict her death, right? But this is so emblematic of our social and media culture: we’re both the lynch mob and the crowd yelling for the troubled person on the ledge to jump.

I guess this site will be shelved, but who knows? In this photo you you can clearly see the residue of some powder around the late Amy Winehouse’s nostrils. Our society loves this stuff and can’t get enough of it. We love addiction shows, addiction media whore quack “doctors,” rehab shows, celebrity rehab shows. Shows on hoarding, animal hoarding, addictions, OCD behaviors. Our media are a modern day Roman Colosseum, but unlike the Romans who merely subjected Christians to a horrible death, we seem to delight in the emotional decline and mental evaporation of the victim subjects prior to their demise. Their death is almost a disappointment in that the abject suffering has ceased and thus the entertainment value.

Sorry, folks. Amy’s dead. Who’ll be your next victim, er, subject? LiLo’s looking shaky. The media ghouls were hoping Charlie Sheen would blow his brains out. Courtney Love? Kate Moss? The quintessential media addiction whore (who himself is addicted to media whoredom) Dr. Drew throws us a bone or two with his pathetic celebrity “reality” rehab slop. But that’s a work.

Amy Winehouse’s death has whetted the appetite of the ghouls and death watchers. Amy’s now gained full deathtime membership status in The 27 Club, a fact that the unimaginative media will beat to death without surcease. Expect websites and video montage packages on those talented  young actors “who left this world too soon,” all in perfect synchronized auto-mourn. Now, after we followed their every self-destructive move, chronicled every embarrassing moment secretly and perhaps subconsciously wishing that, like the poor soul on the ledge, they’d once and for all jump, we pretend to lament their demise. We feign surprise. Already, Amy’s piece has been added to the end of the year lineups where we cue the funereal dirge and roll through the roster of dead celebs who’ve departed this world  in 2011 — in alphabetical order, I might add. And we move on. But for now, I’ve recorded my thoughts, not only on Amy per se but the entire issue of drug addiction, the war on drugs and our collective reaction to “entertainment death” and waste.

LIONEL AUDIO: The Incredible Keith Richards & The Myth

This is my hero. Here am I, wizened and hobbled by decrepitude (HARDLY!). Checking my Lp(a) levels. No smoking. No drugs. Virtually abstemious, teetotalling, vitamin-popping and this sumbitch is indestructible! I never understood the genius of this man until fairly recently. It wasn’t Mick who deserved my fascination and admiration, it was Keef! The man’s ability to coin a riff, a riff that we would know and recognize instantaneously for the rest of our lives. A note pattern so exquisitely simple and organic. A riff that made us all think in unison “Why didn’t I think of that?” If the bowels were set to music, Keith would write the score. And, no, I don’t know what that means either.

I downloaded Keith Richards’s book on my Kindle/iPad today and I’ve been absorbed by this man of mumbled letters.

Incidentally, I saw him once under a light. Little Steven sort of introduced me, I’m not sure. I was in awe. In awe of the deep almost scar-like grimace cracks and lines in his catcher’s mitt face. Zeus bless this dude.