Hello, I'm Warren Zevon

As I headed to get me some pre-tutoring coffee at Mother Fools yesterday evening, I was listening to some guy on WSUM talk about how he helped organize some promotion for a book put out by a small publishing house that involved getting bloggers he knew to read and comment upon it. At the end of the interview, he was asked by the interviewer whom his favorite authors were so he rattled off a list and remarked that he prefers contemporary fiction. One of the reasons he gave was that he enjoyed the anticipation of an author's next being published as well as being able to go hear the author read and speak to him or her in person.

I thought of these comments this morning as I was listening to one of my new bootlegs, a 3 CD compilation of cover tunes by Warren Zevon. It saddened me to think that he'll never write another song. He was one of the first musicians in that nebulous musical category of adult-orientated rock that I got into. Warren Zevon, Richard Thompson, Adrian Belew, etc. You know, musicians/bands that aren't for the kids and don't appeal to the Joe Six-Packs but they play rock music. Rock music that is generally appreciated by your middle aged, middle class folk. There's nothing hip about their music and their lyrics make more sense if you're beyond MTV-watching age. I just love Zevon's dry sense of humor and his cynicism. I loved how "Heartache Spoken Here" treaded those fine lines between turbo tonk, rock, and parody. Perhaps only he could have penned a beautiful, tender tune and given it the name "Monkey Wash, Donkey Rinse". I remember when I saw him. Watching as he started strumming his guitar maniacally and singing, "I started as an altar boy..." ("Mr. Bad Example") When performing live, it was all about fun. But that's over and done. There will never be another album of fresh, new Warren Zevon songs. I will never be able to see him in concert again. Same goes for Johnny Cash. No more waiting for the next installment in the American Recordings series. It's done. No more will I be waiting for another DNA book. I waited years for A Salmon of Doubt wondering whether it would be another Dirk Gently novel or whether it had been transmogrified into a Hitchhiker's story. Those days too are gone, never to return.