The Encyclopedia of Dead Rock Stars (266 page)

Soilent Green

(New Religion)

Incorporating a variety of styles including black/death metal, speed, thrash and stoner rock, Soilent Green– described by
Rolling Stone
as one of the ten most important hard-rock bands in the US – were Louisiana’s hardest, nastiest ride for some years. Their lyrics covering the usual subjects associated with extreme metal, perhaps Soilent Green shouldn’t have anticipated a smooth passageway to success: whether they did or not, they certainly weren’t to get it.

In December 2001, the band – Ben Falgoust (vocals, also of Goatwhore), Brian Patton (ex-Eyehategod/Nuclear Crucifixion, guitar), Tony White (guitar), Scott Williams (ex-New Religion, bass) and Tommy Buckley (ex-Christ Inversion/Crowbar, drums)– almost ended prematurely. Involved in a tour-van crash on an icy East Washington freeway, each member suffered injuries, in particular Patton and Williams, who both had extensive fractures to their shoulders. Just four months later, in
another
van wreck, this time in Chicago, replacement bassist Jonny Modell suffered an almost identical injury to that which had sidelined Williams. In this accident, Falgoust was also hospitalized for months.

For Scott Williams, who’d joined the band in 1992, the accidents were merely a precursor to his own violent and dramatic death. Unknown to many of his fans (some of whom would probably have disowned him for it), Williams was gay and having a relationship with roommate, Scott Terry, a US naval officer, at the start of 2004. At a restaurant on the night of Monday 26 April, two friends of the pair were startled by Terry’s apparently jealous exit when he saw Williams talking to another man. The two friends took an upset Williams to his mother’s home where it was anticipated he and Terry might resolve their differences. Not so, however: – just before midnight, neighbours overheard arguing, followed by gunshots. Pat Williams found her son dead from a bullet wound to the head. The police then located Terry’s body, an injury to the chest and a nearby .38 telling officers all they needed to know. Despite his history, those who knew Williams described the bassist as ‘a quiet man who liked barbecues’. But the misfortune dogging Soilent Green did not stop here: sometime singer Glenn Rambo was found dead just eighteen months later, a victim of Hurricane Katrina.

May

Golden Oldies #19

Clement ‘Coxsone’ Dodd

(Kingston, Jamaica, 26 January 1932)

The most influential producer that reggae has yet seen first became fascinated with rhythmic music when spinning records for customers at the Kingston shop owned by his parents. American blues and R & B drew former farm labourer Dodd to the US, where he’d stock up on rare 45s to bring back and play on one of the five sound systems he operated back home. His early production work helped nurture the careers of Lee ‘Scratch’ Perry, The Skatalites and Toots & The Maytals. Then, in 1963, Dodd opened the fabled Studio One on Brentford Road, Kingston - a building that was to attract some great early exponents of reggae, including Bob Marley & The Wailers, who cut their first sides under the supervision of its owner. Other great names passed through Studio One’s portals, including Horace Andy, Dennis Brown, Burning Spear, Sugar Minott and Delroy Wilson, the studio becoming more synonymous with rocksteady and dancehall by the seventies. Dodd received Jamaica’s Order of Distinction in 1991.

Ever the perfectionist, Clement ‘(Sir) Coxsone’ Dodd - whose unusual nickname apparently derived from his boyhood skill as a cricketer - died ‘at the controls’ from a heart attack on 4 May 2004.

Tuesday 11

John Whitehead

(Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, 2 July 1948)

McFadden & Whitehead

(The Epsilons)

(Talk of the Town)

The shock murder of John Whitehead proved once more that gun crime knows no boundaries in the multigenre world of popular music. Formerly a young buck hoping to make a name in the industry, Whitehead had played with high-school vocal group The Epsilons with his pal Gene McFadden, the pair touring with soul legend Otis Redding before reaching their twenties. In 1970, McFadden & Whitehead recorded with Talk of the Town before being taken on as writers by the Philadelphia International label to create a series of major soul hits over the next few years. Between them the prolific duo composed The O’Jays’ ‘Backstabbers’, ‘I’ll Always Love My Mama’ for The Intruders and ‘Bad Luck’ and ‘Wake Up Everybody’ for Harold Melvin & The Bluenotes, among countless other hits. McFadden & Whitehead only returned to the studio at the end of the seventies to record the huge international hit ‘Ain’t No Stopping Us Now’ (1979, US number thirteen, UK number five) – a song improvised in the studio by Whitehead – and an album of similarly paced disco standards.

Despite a Grammy nomination, there were no other hits for the duo and in the eighties John Whitehead spent time in prison for tax evasion. Worse was to follow, however. During the evening of 11 May 2004, Whitehead and a 20-year-old friend, mechanic Ohmed Johnson, were working on his SUV in the West Oak Lane area when approached by two armed men, who began arguing with Johnson. The men then drew their weapons and fired a dozen times before disappearing without trace. Johnson survived after being struck on the buttocks, but Whitehead died almost at once from a bullet wound to the neck. Among the first to the scene were the musician’s wife Eleanor, daughter Dawn (one of his eleven children) and his longtime colleague McFadden who, according to television reporters, stood trembling by his dying friend. Police have been unable to determine any motive and indeed no suspect has been apprehended, though it is widely believed that Johnson was the intended target.

Gene McFadden – who shortly afterwards learned that he had liver and lung cancer – passed away in January 2006.

Saturday 15

Clint Warwick

(Albert Eccles - Birmingham, England, 25 June 1940)

The Moody Blues

(The Rainbows)

(Danny King/Gerry Day & The Dukes)

In the end, he was more an ‘Albert Eccles’ than a ‘Clint Warwick’. Warwick joined The Moody Blues – a band of two very different and distinct manifestations – just as they conquered the British then American markets, when ‘beat’ became the by-word in music. If there
was
a Birmingham scene, then they were certainly at its head: bassist/singer Warwick (named by his bandmates after Clint Walker and Dionne Warwick) was recruited in May 1964, after stints at Butlins with local blues/skiffle dead-enders The Dukes and The Rainbows. For The Moodys – Warwick, Denny Laine (vocals/guitar), Ray Thomas (vocals/harp/flute), Mike Pinder (keys) and Graeme Edge (drums) – it was instant success, with the UK number one and worldwide smash ‘Go Now’ (1964). Follow-ups didn’t stick as readily, however, and, with pressure from his wife (who had just borne the couple’s first child), Warwick quit early in 1966. With The Moody Blues soon calling it a day, it appeared he had made the right decision – until Justin Hayward (guitar) and John Lodge (bass) gave the band the facelift that was to make them the darlings of the psychedelic/prog brigade. Despite encouragement to return to music from big northern pop names Chas Chandler (ex-Animals) and Muff Winwood (ex-Spencer Davis Group, now a big-name producer), Clint Warwick returned to his trade as a carpenter. In later life, he suffered the heartbreak of losing a son in 1996 before his own death eight years later from a liver condition intensified by alcohol abuse. But, despite his short career in the music business, he could at least boast having jammed many times with The Beatles and Rolling Stones – not a bad epitaph.

Longtime Moody Blues producer Tony Clarke died in 2010.

JUNE

Saturday 5

Robert Quine

(Akron, Ohio, 30 December 1942)

Richard Hell & The Voidoids

(Various acts)

Robert Quine was as much a progressive- as punk-rock musician, influenced greatly by The Velvet Underground, the band that merged the experimental with the most stripped-down rock ‘n’ roll in town. This was when he wasn’t listening to Miles Davis or Link Wray. Or Richie Valens. And the former law graduate was a fine student of music, knowing when to leave influence behind and embrace innovation as he paved the way for a more cerebral kind of punk music. Just
don’t
call him a session musician …