It's all fun and games until somebody loses an eye
I was but a toddler when Curtis hung himself, so obviously it didn't have much of an effect on me. My generation's suicide parade affected me in different ways. Cobain's suicide... I don't know, I was almost angry about it. I felt he'd given up. Given up on us, my generation, and me specifically. I didn't really have much sympathy, which is quite harsh. "Better to burn out than to fade away." Bullshit. (If he committed suicide at all, of course!)
When Richey Manic disappeared, it was very different. Just the fact that they never found a body meant there was never really a full stop. I hoped that he'd been smarter and stronger than Cobain, and disappeared, gone and lived a normal life somewhere. Saved himself. But it's pretty clear now that he killed himself as well, either at the Severn Bridge or sometime afterwards. Probably a more selfish way to go than Cobain. At least his family knew. Richey entered rock n roll mythology, but at the expense of those who really loved him.
I suppose I felt quite sad about his death at the time too, being a moody sixteen year old who'd recently undergone a bereavement (nurse, the screens!).
Strange - at that age I'd got a tendency to see pop stars as being enigmatic and glamorous, and on some higher plane. Reading Deborah Curtis's book kind of undermined the silly ideas that you get into your head about stars - all the details about his very unglamorous home life, his health issues and emotional problems.
'Where's me twenty quid?'
'In me fuck off pocket.'
Finally actually saw Control. Breathtaking.
Commenting by HaloScan
