2020 really was the year the music died

John Prine, Kenny Rogers and many other musicians and songwriters left us

If Feb. 3, 1959, was, “the day the music died,” it is not much of a stretch to call 2020, “the year the music died.”

The “day,” was a plane crash claiming the lives of three American rockers; Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens and The Big Bopper. Twelve years later, Don McLean penned, “American Pie,” inscribing these deaths into our collective minds as, “the day the music died.”

The “year,” need I say it, is this one just passed, when an outbreak of severe acute respiratory syndrome called coronavirus disease 2019, COVID-19 for short, was declared a pandemic by the World Health Organization. At last count, 82.8 million people had contracted the virus; 46.8 million recovered; 1.81 million people have died.

Each year, we hear of notable musicians dying from a range of causes and every loss is lamentable. However, in this “year of years,” the deaths of lyricists and musical artists, people who are driven to contribute their creativity to the ears of the world, seemed heavier.

With the virus still taking its toll and the vaccine still looking more like hope for the future than the present, I wondered how the words of the songs associated with some of these legends could provide us with some wisdom or wit, both badly needed for the year at our doorstep.

By the eighth day of the last new year, when the virus had not yet officially entered Canada, the drummer from one of our many bands in the Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall of Fame, Neil Peart of Rush, died from brain cancer. His lyrics in iconic songs like, “Tom Sawyer” and “Freewill,” provide plenty of inspiration, as Peart described, for us to “stride through the world wideeyed and purposeful.”

Perhaps Peart’s death is one of the reasons bandmate, Geddy Lee, participated in the powerful musical tribute to another legend’s death, Bill Withers, this time from COVID. ArtistsCAN, a collective artist initiative raising funds for COVID-19 relief in Canada, put together a Zoom rendition of Wither’s classic, “Lean on Me,” with words to steady us on difficult days.

When Little Richard died in March and his song titles were circulating, I wondered if they hadn’t been written during a pandemic. “I Don’t Know What You Got,” but, “There’s a Whole Lotta Shakin’ Goin’ On,” and “She’s Got It!” (I’m not sure if the “she” was “Long Tall Sally” or “Miss Molly.”)

Two weeks from year end, COVID -19 claimed Charley Pride, country music’s first Black superstar. The answer to the question in one of his hits, “Is Anybody Goin’ to San Antone,” is likely Rod Phillips, as he likes to travel.

After Phillips’ Christmas vacation, he needs to heed the advice from Kenny Rogers, another sad loss this year, and his hit, “The Gambler.”

“You got to know when to fold ’em,” and Rod, the time is now.

I know Doug Ford will find, “It’s Hard to Be Humble,” thinking he’s “perfect in every way,” as Mac Davis sang in his popular hit before he died a non-COVID-related death in September.

However, I hope Ford will riff on a line from the now late, great, Johnny Nash, and sing, “I can see clearly now, the Rod is gone.”

When COVID ended the brilliant lyrical flowing from John Prine’s mind, heart and soul, I mined this gem of a line that could have easily been written to describe the state of care in Ontario’s long-term “shorton-care” homes from, “Hello in There.”

“Ya’ know that old trees just grow stronger, and old rivers grow wilder ev’ry day; old people just grow lonesome, waiting for someone to say, “Hello in there, hello.”

Many fabulous women who died this year include another Canadian legend, Salome Bey, Canada’s first woman of blues. An honorary Member of the Order of Canada, Bey released, “Baby, Won’t You Please Come Home,” in 1999, a cry of so many people experiencing a terrible time of wretched separation.

Until her death this year, Helen Reddy, belted out these words of encouragement to women facing the economic results of COVID-19 in the form of a, “she-cession.”

“I am strong; I am invincible; I am woman!”

Finally, Vera Lynn, the voice of hope throughout the Second World War, was silenced this year but with her, I believe, “We’ll meet again, don’t know how, don’t know when, but I know we’ll meet again some sunny day.”

Deirdre Pike is a contributing columnist to The Hamilton Spectator. She looks forward to meeting up with a multitude of people some sunny day. Until then, you can reach her at dpikeatthespec@gmail.com or follow or her @deirdrepike or friend her on Facebook. Happy New Year, please!