RIP Jim Carroll
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Artist:
In case you hadn't heard the news, legendary punk rocker/poet Jim Carroll died on Friday of an apparent heart attack, he was 60. For more about Carroll, see CatholicBoy.com
Carroll known best known for his book (and resulting film) Basketball Diaries as well as the song "People Who Died" spent years trying to rid himself of his heroin addiction. He was a legendary, yet very unknown artist to the general public specializing in very personal stories through his poetry and songs.
Following the small resurgence in popularity stemming from the movie, Carroll put out a couple more albums of poetry and music. None really had the same gravitational pull of Praying Mantis or his early books, but Carroll's dirty honesty still struck a chord with many fans, including myself.
I'd be remiss if I didn't say Basketball Diaries introduced me to Jim's work. The movie instantly became one of my all time favorites and still sits in my personal top 10. It didn't take long for me to begin reading all of Carroll's published works that I could get my hand on. I highly recommend "Living at the Movies."
Carroll quickly became my favorite poet after the movie's release and remains so to this day. I can honestly say the last 12-13 years of my life would be vastly different if I had never heard of Jim Carroll.
Comments (1)
I'm sure the sheeple will not like this post and I expect it will be removed. But, possibly, some will see it before that. And this is not directed at the OP, but does pose another way of looking at Mr. Carroll and his ilk, of which there were many. Here goes:
How odd that one should believe that their life is vastly different these 13 years after discovering Jim Carroll. My life is vastly different too and for this exact period of time -- 13 very long years.. It's ironic that I should find this statement on this day. My nephew would have had these last 13 years had it not been for the likes of Jim Carroll, and his ilk. “Artists” all of them. Creative? Innovative? Talented? NOT!
People like Carroll glorified their lifestyle, primarily the drug usage, the message being that the drugs somehow inspired and fueled the creativity. Without the drugs, they would be nothing. And here I agree. The claim to fame is the heroin -- not the art. They profited off of something that should not be used to make a living – heroin. He sold it just like any other drug dealer, but it was not illegal because it was in a book.
For young, impressionable, aspiring writers and poets it coud be “believable” because they don’t yet have the experience to see that it is fiction.
I was shocked to hear that he died; I thought I would have to wait a long time for this news. However, by the looks of him he was on heroin for a long time despite the claims of his fans that he was not; he looks every day of 90 years old. It takes a lot of effort for a 60 year old man to look like that. I'm reminded of Dorian Gray. He looked like I imagine his soul must have looked.
I abhor those who throw away their opportunities while profiting from a lifestyle of drugs and bacchanallian adventure, wrapping themselves in the faux glory that comes with such hero worship. If he wasn’t touted as a great “whatever”, would anyone even have ever read a single of his works, let alone even bothered to listen to his music? Would he even have been published? Do people have to worship at the altar of mediocrity (and worse) because they can't see the lie when some critic tells them that this is great work? It's not "good" just because someone said so. The emperor really has no clothes, but rarely does one speak up.
I wish for Jim Carroll the same peace that I have been deprived of these last 13 years. Send my regards to William Burroughs, Jack Kerouac, Alan Ginsberg and Gregory Corso too. And Julian Carr-the enabler. I didn't get to write their epitaphs, so I'll get in this last one.
So many naked emperors.