We love them. We follow them. We obsess over them. We don’t know them. We’ve never even met them.
The human race has been immersed in a celebrity culture since the beginning. That hairy dude dragging his knuckles on the ground who first learned how to make fire probably got all the Stone Age endorsement deals, lived in the cushiest cave with every primitive amenity known, and got to pick and club any woman he wanted. The first fella who figured out how to stick a spear into the breast or throat of a mammoth (or a Jesusaurus Rex if www.creationmuseum.org is your homepage) must have made the rounds on the “grunt show” circuit before the resulting meal was even consumed. It is in our nature to be fascinated by, thrilled by, or even envious of those who live different lives than us.
Even those of us proud to avoid the gossip rags, the soulless entertainment programs, watch absolutely no reality TV, and didn’t even know what TMZ was until the Tiger Woods fiasco (like yours truly), have at least a few celebrities we respond to enough to watch each new movie, buy each new record, read each new book, and keep tabs on them until they retire, fall from grace, or die. And none inspire this sort of rampant enthusiasm as musicians, be it pop diva, tortured poet, roadhouse warrior, or full-blown rock star. There’s just one little problem — many live by the sex, drugs, and rock n’ roll adage and die long before their time. And so the mystique grows…
Since we remain a society consumed by death (great conversation starter: “Did you hear who died?”), the loss of a public figure always inspires a reaction. Sometimes they even monopolize the news cycle for days, weeks, and months—“Dude, did you hear about Michael Jackson?” “Only about 623 times, thank you.” But it remains an elusive subject, not just because no one knows what happens post mortem, but because it’s very difficult to predict; even in cases where a person is terminal, who’s to say which day is the last? Once, there was a popular formula for determining when a rock star was going to die, using a series of variables to calculate the age when they would expire. It applied a basis of body of work (b), usage of narcotics (u), lifestyle risks compounded by potentially fatal thrillseeking ventures (l2), style of music (s), happiness vs. depression (h), independence from group pressures (i), and touring schedules (t). But because the formula failed to take freak accidents into account, it wound up, indeed, being a bunch of bul2shit.
So instead we must rely on the intangible in estimating the identity and means of the next fallen star — meaning a recklessly tabulated probability factor and a healthy dose of blind chance. So, um, results may vary.
For the readers’ convenience, I have determined the approximate percentages of various means of death that strike the rock & roll community (with all those at or under one percent being lumped into “Other,” including methods not even studied). After, I assembled the numbers into a convenient pie graph at the bottom of the page which you can print out along with a spinner; simply cut out the so-called “Wheel of Misfortune” and the spinner, attach to hard stock or paper board so it moves easier, and pin the spinner to the center. Now you can spend all day sadistically whirling away while trying to discover the fate of various musicians. “Hey, Art Garfunkel’s gonna have a heart attack?” “Chad Kroeger’s gonna get murdered!”
Note: This activity should be considered for repellently sordid entertainment purposes only. But the best is if the spinner settles on a line—“Justin Bieber is gonna get AIDS and then die in a plane crash? Who'd-a-thunk-it?”
For the purposes of inclusiveness, I’ve designated “rock” to represent almost every form of popular music and “star” to refer to anyone that a large number of people have heard of (including some that weren’t even that famous until after they were already deceased). Nevertheless, these are in no way complete tallies but rather a general sampling.
SCURVY
“Arr, Ninety Sea Shanties on 3 compact discs. Blow the man down, mateys, blow the man down! Row, row, row your boat! In the Navy, come on and join your fellow man! Act now and get a bonus CD: Hornpipe Fever. Arr!” – Captain McCallister
Okay, to the best of my knowledge, no rock stars have actually died of scurvy. And unless there are a lot of sailors swinging guitars as fervently as booms (Moby and the Dicks? Rage Against the HMS Bounty?) there probably won’t be one in the near or distant future.
Casualties: None
Odds: < 1%
Are we still dealing with scurvy? Move on, already!
CHOKING ON A HAM SANDWICH
“Enjoy every sandwich.” – Warren Zevon
Sometimes you get so hungry that you forget to chew properly.
Casualties: “Mama” Cass Elliott
Odds: < 1%
Ham sandwiches are tasty, but most rock stars look like they haven’t had any kind of sandwich in about three weeks. Plus, there’s a good chance that it might have actually been a heart attack that did in that mama. Bo-o-oring.
DECLARING, “DON’T WORRY, IT’S NOT LOADED,” BEFORE BLOWING ONE’S HEAD OFF
“Don’t worry, it’s not loaded.” – Terry Kath, before blowing his head off
This happened? Holy crap!
Casualties: Johnny Ace, Terry Kath
Odds: < 1%
Wait, it happened two different times? Holy crap times two!
ALCOHOL POISONING
“Smoking’ll kill you, drugs’ll ruin your life, but beer gets you laid in the desert!” – Jon Stewart
Rock stars tend to satisfy their illegal narcotic habits away from the flashing cameras and frothing fans, but booze flows in copious quantity at all times. Many don’t even bother with glasses, ice, and mixes—straight from the bottle like a lachrymose gunfighter in a drab western flick. And despite a complete lack of regulation in law books and advertising, alcohol remains a potentially deadly cocktail, especially when consumed with wanton disregard for health. Please drink responsibly.
Casualties: John Bonham, Bon Scott
Odds: 1%
Surprisingly, the number of big names to check out early due to Jäger’s revenge is quite slim (if you don’t have a “bon” in your name, you should be safe). This is the sort of thing that leads to long-term ill effects, not a quick exit on Death’s party bus.
DROWNING
“Taz hate water! Taz hate water!” – Tasmanian Devil
Sorry, Richard Dreyfuss, but in these cases, it was not the work of a Great White; it actually was a boating accident. Or someone decided to mix hard drugs and swimming (rarely a savvy decision). Either way, rock stars should probably avoid the water when they can. And don’t let them bring their Mogwai.
Casualties: Jeff Buckley, Johnny Burnette, Brian Jones, Dennis Wilson
Odds: 2%
With water covering roughly three-fourths of the Earth’s surface and swimming pools being a common feature on celebrity estates, there’s plenty of opportunity for tragedy, but swimming and yachting aren’t typically near the top of the list of rock star excess, so it remains somewhat rare.
AIDS
“It is my hope that every beautiful child on this earth has AIDS by next month! AIDS for everyone!” – Jared
Rock stars fornicate; go figure on this one. AIDS is such an ugly, terrifying blight upon the world that it’s nearly impossible to discuss anyone affected by it without at least briefly connecting them to the disease whether directly or elliptically. You can’t even watch Magic Johnson for more than two minutes without remembering, “Shit, he has AIDS.” Such is the disease’s cruelty and remorselessness. Or, in other words: F-ck you, AIDS.
Note: I do realize that Magic Johnson is in fact HIV-positive and doesn’t have AIDS, but in the spirit of the knowledge that these deaths are caused by related complications and not actually the HIV virus, we’ll let popular (mis)conception carry the day. Oh, and once again, f-ck you, AIDS.
Casualties: Eazy-E, Tom Fogerty, Ray Gillen, Freddie Mercury, Ricky Wilson
Odds: 3%
Lots of sex going on in the rock star world, and plenty of bi-curious attitudes fueled by approach and chemicals, but luckily, it still remains somewhat rare.
PNEUMONIA
“I got the rocking pneumonia and the boogie woogie flu.” – Johnny Rivers
A fairly common and not necessarily fatal illness, Pneumonia typically strikes young children, the elderly, and those who are chronically ill. It also strikes rock stars. Most of us grew up being told not to spend excessive time in the snow and rain or we’d catch pneumonia…turns out there are a lot of ways to get it, none of them very pleasant.
Casualties: Ronnie Lane, Phil Lynott, Charlie Parker, Jackie Wilson
Odds: 3%
Bacteria, viruses, parasites, fungi…and the introduction of smoke and vomit into the lungs. Yeah, that’ll happen to rock stars. But often? Pnope.
SUICIDE
“The game of life is hard to play, I'm gonna lose it anyway. The losing card I'll someday lay, so this is all I have to say.” – Johnny Mandel
Depression and misery can lead to great art, so it’s not surprising that this happens more often than it should. It’s also usually not surprising when you read about it happening, but it’s still often sad. With all of these external terrors threatening everyone’s life every day, it’s disheartening to hear about someone who chose to turn the accident into intent. What’s worse, it’s rarely some marginal talent but instead a potential voice of a generation candidate, leaving us to feel not just sad but also angry.
Casualties: Kurt Cobain, Darby Crash, Ian Curtis, Nick Drake, Tommy Evans, Doug Hopkins, Michael Hutchence (unofficial), Richard Manuel, Danny Rapp, Del Shannon, Elliott Smith (unofficial)
Odds: 5%
Hard to tell. You never know if drug overdoses and alcohol poisoning are mistakes or suicides. Still, it seems to me that the average rock star is a hedonist too preoccupied with the next thrill or conquest to let the dark thoughts be anything more than fleeting (or induced by chemicals). But I’m no psychologist; maybe they’re all peering over the edge.
MURDER
“‘Vengeance is mine,’ quoth Alvis. Then he shot that guy right in the freakin’ face.” – Captain Murphy
Rock stars can have some pretty psychotic fans and messy personal lives. And let’s not forget all the bullshit posturing, bragging and intimidating certain (ahem, most) members of the rap community get involved in. Even armed with this knowledge, though, it’s always pretty shocking when one of them is straight up murdered.
Casualties: “Dimebag” Darrell Abbott, Sam Cooke, Bobby Fuller (rumored), Marvin Gaye, Jam-Master Jay, John Lennon, The Notorious B.I.G., Selena, Tupac Shakur, Peter Tosh
Odds: 6%
Not very high, thanks to restraining orders, bolstered security, and an affluence of all-bark-no-bite rap wannabes. But you surely know the phrase, “heat of passion.” It’s never gonna end completely.
AUTO ACCIDENT
“Hi, I'm Troy McClure. You might remember me from such driver’s ed films as ‘Alice's Adventure Through the Windshield Glass’ and ‘The Decapitation of Larry Leadfoot’.” – Troy McClure
Feeding into their feeling of immortality, rock stars tend to love cars as fast as their groupies. Getting a rush off their need for speed (but not shirtless sand volleyball with Tom Cruise) nearly rivals the rush off their need for booze n’ drugs (including, well, speed). But anyone who’s ever been a student driver has seen plenty of filmstrips pointing out that, whether reckless behind the wheel or just having an unlucky day, accidents are going to happen.
Casualties: Duane Allman, Marc Bolan, D. Boon, Clifford Brown, Cliff Burton, Tommy Caldwell, Harry Chapin, Eddie Cochran, Falco, Johnny Kidd, Lisa “Left Eye” Lopes
Odds: 7%
Decent. Accidents are unavoidable, some of it fueled by their extra curricular activities, but with so many safety measures, personal drivers and private planes around now, the odds are dwindling. Speaking of private planes…
AIRPLANE CRASH
“Oh, Lord! We’ll have to endure the horrible music of the Big Bopper and then the terrible tragedy of his death!” – Professor Farnsworth
They’re tin cans with wings! How did no one see this coming? Being the supposed safest way to travel, plane crash tragedies should be rarer, but it seems that every few years, those gravity-defying contraptions rob the world of some major talent (or three at once in one of the most famous pop music losses in history). You really can’t predict these things, but it’s gonna happen. This is why I stick with dirigibles.
Casualties: Aaliyah, The Big Bopper, Patsy Cline, Jim Croce, John Denver, Buddy Holly, half of Lynyrd Skynyrd, Ricky Nelson, Otis Redding, Jim Reeves, Randy Rhoads, Ritchie Valens, Stevie Ray Vaughan (helicopter)
Odds: 10%
Not astronomical, but higher than it has any right to be. I guess if we were supposed to fly, evolution would have given us wings. At least we still have opposable thumbs; good for hitchhiking in vehicles that, uh, don’t go 20,000 feet in the air.
HEART ATTACK
“You know that feeling you get when a thousand knives of fire are stabbing you in the heart? I'm having that right now...Ooh, bacon!” – Homer Simpson
Hard living is unkind to the circulatory system. Years of drinking, smoking, and injecting whatever crazy shit Keith Moon’s shady pal “Spider” has in his little black bag directly into the carotid artery is gonna make a heart quit early.
Casualties: Ron Asheton, Gene Clark, John Entwistle, Serge Gainsbourg, Andy Gibb (myocarditis), Maurice Gibb, Bill Haley, Rick James, Freddie King, Harry Nilsson, Roy Orbison, Robert Palmer, Fred “Sonic” Smith, Edwin Starr, Joe Strummer, Luther Vandross, Muddy Waters, Dave Williams (cardiomyopathy)
Odds: 18%
Obviously, since, like cancer, heart disease remains a top worldwide killer, it’s going to claim more than its fair share of rock stars. It should also be noted that most of these heart attacks are drug and alcohol related, so there’s plenty of overlap as well.
DRUG OVERDOSE
"See, I think drugs have done some good things for us. I really do. And if you don't believe drugs have done good things for us, then do me a favor. Go home tonight and take all your records, all your tapes, all your CDs, and burn them. Because, you know what, the musicians who made all that great music that's enhanced your lives throughout the years? R-r-r-real f-cking high on drugs, man.” – Bill Hicks
The gold standard for rock star fatality (most types of celebrities, really), the drug overdose can be a sparklingly clean or mordantly ugly way to exit the land of the living (usually both if describing the circumstances in different considerations). Whether it be prescription medication or illegal narcotics, rock stars tend to love their drugs. We’ve all believed at one point—or still do—that we’re invincible; the good times can’t end so long as we’re still tweaked, right? Then the fun turns into gripping addiction and, well, we’ve seen it a hundred times. And I guarantee we’ll see hundreds more.
Casualties: Jay Bennett, Mike Bloomfield, Tim Buckley, Steve Clark, DJ AM, Tim Hardin, Shannon Hoon, Michael Jackson, Janis Joplin, Frankie Lymon, Keith Moon, Jim Morrison (unofficial), Ol’ Dirty Bastard, Gram Parsons, Kristen Pfaff, Elvis Presley, Dee Dee Ramone, David Ruffin, Hillel Slovak, Layne Staley, Sid Vicious, Alan Wilson, Andrew Wood
Odds: 21%
Pretty decent, especially if and when the artist graduates to the harder stuff. Hell, even a puff or two of Mary Jane will turn you into a bullet-sweating, out-of-control, fornicating mass murderer (that Reefer Madness movie was a documentary, right?).
CANCER
“If there’s one thing I hate, it’s losing. If there’s two things I hate, it’s losing and getting cancer.” – Kenny Powers
Since your average rock star tends to treat his/her body like a playground (or a waste disposal plant), it’s no shock that cancer claims many great performers’ lives. It’s also an insult to the “live fast, die young, leave a beautiful corpse” mentality, typically being a slow, debilitating and agonizing way to go. At least it usually gives us a chance to prepare for the inevitable and cherish their final years.
Casualties: Syd Barrett, Nat King Cole, John Coltrane, George Harrison, Eddie Kendricks, Bob Marley, Linda McCartney, Sterling Morrison, Dickie Peterson, Joey Ramone, Johnny Ramone, Buddy Rich, Mick Ronson, Skip Spence, Dusty Springfield, Tammi Terrell, Junior Walker, Carl Wilson, Richard Wright, Frank Zappa, Warren Zevon
Odds: 23%
No matter what you do, how you live, how you treat your body, what your age, gender or community is, you could get cancer. Living like a rock star, though? I’m shocked there aren’t more.
REPLACED BY POD PEOPLE
“Let me explain something to you. You see, you're not normal. You're a great guy, I love you, but you're a pod. I, on the other hand, am a human being. I sometimes feel awkward, uncomfortable, even inhibited in certain situations with the other human beings. You wouldn't understand.” – Jerry Seinfeld
Yes, the pod people walk among us, virtually undetectable by strangers and companions alike. The best way to distinguish the presence of a pod in your community is by recognizing erratically changing behavior and a conspicuous lack of the soul’s glint in their gaze, a.k.a., “dead eyes.” Unfortunately, since the camera steals a piece of the soul with every snap, along with the fact that many celebrities sold their souls in exchange for fame years ago, almost all famous people have the so-called “dead eyes,” which leaves us with only two real recognizable attributes with which to detect the rock star pods: abrupt behavior metamorphosis typically dictated by a sudden downfall or comeback (specifically ones that defy explanation or common sense) and a seismic—and almost always risible—alteration to the style/quality of the music they produce. It’s important to remember that this does not include those that gradually rise or fall or those that return to the top briefly on repeated occasions through miracles of fair weather fads. No, no, no…the pods want us to think that nothing is amiss…even as we begin to slowly, terrifyingly realize that the rock star we thought we knew has in fact been bumped off to make way for an unstable alien replica.
Note: I’m sure most of you would assume that Michael Jackson is a prime example of this case, but I would be quick to insist that, based on sheer scale of both talent and weirdness, that dude was an extraterrestrial from day one.
Second Note: I’m sure most of you would also assume that some of these cases sprung about because of poor personal choices, particularly intimate relationships. But, uh, the parasitic hosts that killed them had to have come from somewhere — mystery solved.
(Suspected) Casualties: Billy Corgan, Chris Cornell, David Coverdale, Rivers Cuomo, Whitney Houston, Raine Maida, Axl Rose, Britney Spears, Lars Ulrich
Odds: ?%
Nearly impossible to accurately discern. How can we know for sure? They’re freakin’ pod people.
HIGHLANDER SYNDROME
“From the dawn of time we came, moving silently down through the centuries, living many secret lives, struggling to reach the time of the Gathering, when the few who remain will battle to the last. No one has ever known we were among you...until now.” – Sean Connery
Up to this point, these have all been about death. Bummer, man. Yet there is still an alternate fate for your favorite guitar god or pop princess—they might never die. That is because some rock stars are, quite clearly, eternal. They cannot be slain by conventional means or weaponry. Like haggard, unhinged Vietnam vets, they’ve seen some shit, man, but they keep surviving things that could put down a rampaging bull elephant. Held together by some combination of guitar string stitches, dried vomit, bong resin and cobwebs, these formidable creatures have somehow kept ticking against any and all system of biological laws. They are the Immortals. The day will come when there will be a spectacular, no-holds-barred battle royale (no doubt set to the music of Queen) and there can be only one left standing, but until then, some rock stars have proven that they simply cannot expire.
Casualties (or, really, non-casualties): Chuck Berry, David Crosby, Jerry Lee Lewis, Courtney Love, Ozzy Osbourne, Iggy Pop, Lou Reed, Keith Richards, Nikki Sixx, Grace Slick, Sly Stone, Steven Tyler, Scott Weiland, Brian Wilson
Odds: 1%
Unless they’re giving a stone-faced acting performance or carrying a sword in the middle of a city, it’s extremely difficult to know for sure. I guess you could always shoot them and see if they keep on ticking. Wait, did I really just encourage that? Uh, never mind.
On second thought, I’m pretty sure that Liam Gallagher isn’t an immortal. Prove me wrong.
