Ready To Die Music

 

My musical library is entirely dominated by two demographics that would seem mutually exclusive to the uneducated.  I generally prefer music written and recorded by white men born very poor no later than 1955 or black men born very poor no earlier than 1965.

One theme that my favorite musical artists explore regardless of their background is death, and specifically the concept of when one is Ready to Die.

For my generation, the term "Ready to Die" is instantly associated with the first album released by Biggie.  Biggie today is regarded among rap elitists as the best rapper of all time.  He released ONE album during his life.  He recorded TWO albums during his life.  His second release, "Life After Death", was released shortly after his murder in 1997.  He was 24.

24.  Take a moment to consider how many years ago you were 24 years of age.  He died at 24, and was prophetic enough to openly doubt that he would live to see his work released.

To call Biggie the best rapper of all time is a bit like calling James Garfield the best president of all time based solely on the fact that both men were murdered before they could accomplish very much, leading their followers to wonder what might have been.  Twenty years after his death, Biggie's music does not stand up when measured against what his still-living contemporaries have released in the intervening years.

He was 21 when he recorded his debut album.  And he was, according to himself at least, "Ready to Die".  But again, think back to your early 20's.  Think about how smart and sexy and invincible you were.  And now consider how much you have grown and evolved since then.

The idea of nationally-available music in America is not old.  In fact, some of the first people to take advantage of that fact are still among us.   

Rap is still a young enough art-form that there are still no "old" rappers.  The Golden Age of rap began in 1992.  The rappers who emerged from that era, if they are still alive, are still younger than President Obama was when he was first elected.

American forms of folk and rock music are older than rap, of course, but several of the pioneers from that era are still among us as well.  And they are the first recording artists in our culture to face down death not as a twenty-something living out a self-destructive thug life fantasy, but as actual old people.

Johnny Cash spent his last years on the remarkable, and perfectly named, "American" recordings.  As accomplished as Cash was by virtue of his previous work, the music recorded at the end of his life, with him knowing it was the end of his life, is perhaps his greatest contribution to American music.

"Hi, death.  Don't make me do you like I did that man in Reno..."

Bob Dylan, being Bob Dylan, was 20 years ahead of everyone else by recording his Ready to Die album, Time Out Of Mind, in 1997.  Two decades later, Dylan lives, having again reinvented American music when he's not busy meeting popes, presidents, and winning Nobel Prizes and not returning the Nobel Committee's phone calls.

Bobby was bigger than the Beatles when Barack was still in diapers

But the gold standard has been set by Leonard Cohen, who just released the third piece of a trilogy of Ready to Die music.  It is astonishing in its serenity, fatalism, and grace.  Like Cash and Dylan, Cohen could have died 30 years ago and still have been a first-ballot lock of the Hall of Fame.

Cohen's recent work (Old Ideas, Popular Problems, and You Want it Darker) are evidence that life is a gift that keeps on giving if we are humble enough to accept the natural rhythms of life and not define ourselves or our art by young men's trivial and short-sighted obsessions.