John Lennon and Everybody Else Who Croaked


I ain’t like the Beatles till I bought the 1 album… Wait; that shit ain’t exactly true. It’s impossible to grow up in America and not like the Beatles, so let’s put it this way: I ain’t know I liked the Beatles until I bought the 1 album.

Then I was like, “Oh shit!” went back, copped more of their catalog and became a fan.

And it’s a good thing John died too cause you never know with shit like that.

I mean, imagine (pardon the pun) he was still around today. At some point, somebody woulda put too much money on the table for him, Paul, George and Rich to turn down and them muhfuccas woulda headed back into the studio and Lord knows what we’d have had on our hands.

Might be great, might be crap. Most likely, it’d be crap tho.

When the Beatles were in the middle of their thing, they were competitive with everybody else who was also doing it.

Therefore, they had the Stones on their right, The Who coming up, Led Zeppelin about to emerge, The Beach Boys on the American front, never sleep on Motown, not to mention the horde of assorted freaks and weirdos also trying to lay down their respective things; from The Kinks to The Monkeys to The Animals and so on.

Bob Dylan was out there somewhere too.

And since this competition fed the music, the music was of the time.

Now, imagine (there I go again) tryna jump back into the fray after, say, a twenty-something year layoff. Not only is the music different but the competitors are different.

You got Nirvana to deal with, The Red Hot Chili Peppers, Stone Temple Pilots and hip hop has become the sound.

I don’t know about you, but I ain’t tryna hear Ringo Starr spit 16.

Also, it’s not when them muhfuccas split up, they all went and started farming or some shit. No, muhfuccas kept recording.

That’s why I’m a George Harrison fan in particular. None of them as solo acts made an album as lit as All Things Must Pass.

The mistake people make when considering artists is that they allow what they know of the art to color their interpretation of the man.

That’s wrong.

This is a nation with slave owners on its money, so who better should know that an artist, by nature, is a being divided in two.

If you don’t know the dude, you can only judge the art.

That’s why Lets Do It Again is still my favorite movie despite the fact that Cosby’s likely a rapist, I still listen to R. Kelly, still watch my Woody Allen.

They say Voltaire was a racist in real life but the Black character in Candide is smart, clever and intuitive.

They say the same shit about Tarantino.

Now, back to death: in almost every case, an early death is the luckiest break a muhfuccin artist can catch.

Sure, the Stones hit the lotto with Some Girls in ’78, but even that shit was almost 40 years ago and what’s the hottest shit they’ve had since?

So, John Lennon, Tupac, Biggie, Marvin Gaye, Billie Holiday, John Coltrane, James Dean, George Orwell, Albert Camus, Lorraine Hansberry, all artistically at least, benefited from kicking the bucket.

The other side of the coin is, say, Stevie Wonder; one of the greatest muhfuccin artist living, yet people treat him like he’s dead.

About the Author

Dickie Bhee is a self-styled lunatic, a Renaissance showman, a Class A, Grade A buffoon, a nigga that believes in the greatness of Niggerhood a social gadfly and a genuine Man About Town. Also:

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