Monday, January 4, 2010

R.I.P. Vic Chesnutt (a bit late)

Vid Chesnutt, 1964-2009


Vic Chesnutt performs "Coward" at the Southgate House in November, with instrumentation by Guy Picciatto and members of Thee Silver Mt. Zion Tra-la-la Memorial Band (or whatever they recently elongated their name into).
Not the greatest video, but the audio is pretty decent.


Soooo, I just found out Vic Chesnutt died on Christmas Day, from an apparent suicidal overdose. (I know I'm a bit slow to the punch here. Seriously, have not looked at the computer since before Christmas.) In addition to bumming me out considerably, this news, rather morosely, makes his appearance at the Southgate House this past November my "kick yourself in the arse for not going" show of 2009. (Did anyone go to this show?? Pictures/review?? I think I found out about it 2 days in advance...)

I admit my knowledge of Chesnutt, described by one writer for tinymixtapes as the "dark horse of southern gothic dark horses," is extremely finite and young. After a rather prolific career that spanned over two decades, he just appeared on my radar last year, after I discovered that he was a) involved with Dark Night of the Soul, the bizarre David Lynch/Danger Mouse/Sparklehorse collab that never quite panned out, and b) that out he was playing with Guy Picciatto of Fugazi and members of Thee Silver Mt. Zion and Godspeed You! Black Emperor on his '09 tour.

After researching, I quickly realized that I had missed some kind of boat; this guy should have been on my radar earlier. He's recorded more than 15 albums since 1990, a couple of which Michael Stipe produced, two of which he enlisted the help of Picciatto and members of Mt. Zion/Godspeed (2007's North Star Deserter and 2009's At The Cut). Hell, he even played with Widespread Panic on a couple of albums, approximately around the same time I was dabbling in the jam band experience myself.

Chesnutt told The A.V. Club last year that his most recent album, At The Cut, often plays like a eulogy. "I'm in love with death in many ways...but I'm not ready to kill myself yet," he said.

In a wheelchair since a car accident at age 18 left him paralyzed from the waist down, Chesnutt was reportedly in tens of thousands of dollars of health care debt. The following quote was posted on R.E.M.'s website, from friend, filmmaker and family spokesman Jem Cohen, with whom Chesnutt had collaborated on a number of projects, including the 2008 art-film Evening's Civil Twilight in Empires of Tin:

The most important story to report now is not Vic’s death but a life and work overflowing with insight, humor, and yes, resilience. This, after all, was the man who wrote: “I thought I had a calling, anyway, I just kept dialing.” Sixteen extraordinary albums, five in the last couple of years; countless live shows so powerful and sublime they deeply altered the lives of those on the stage with Vic and those looking up, yes up, at him. The second most important story here has to do with a broken health care system depriving so many of the help they need to stay around and stay sane, and a society that never balks at providing more money for more wars but fights tooth and nail against decent care for its citizens. Vic’s death, just so you all know, did not come at the end of some cliché downward spiral. He was battling deep depression but also at the peak of his powers, and with the help of friends and family he was in the middle of a desperate search for help. The system failed to provide it. I miss him terribly.
* * *

Chesnutt will likely be my "first artist whose catalogue to delve backwards into" of the year. Which might take my bracing myself, as his songs, perhaps not surprisingly, are almost equally (and unbearably) raw, sad and gorgeous.

"I flirted with you all my life
Even kissed you once or twice
And to this day I swear it was nice
But clearly I was not ready...
Oh death...really, I'm not ready..."

-Vic Chesnutt, lyrics from his ballad to death, "I flirted with you all my life"

Rest in peace, Vic Chesnutt. My heart goes out to you, your friends, family, and everyone else you touched during your too-brief stay on Earth.

Vic Chesnutt's avant garde (presumably self-penned) bio
December '09 Fresh Air interview featuring Chesnutt and Picciatto

No comments:

Post a Comment