I have been moved today by two unrelated events – the death of The Prodigy’s Keith Flint, and Terry Hall sharing awareness of the impact on his life of abuse as a child. As someone who has seen musicians as a touchstone for his own identity, these events have affected me in my recovery, sobering and strengthening me to value healing from emotional and mental pain.
Musicians live their lives more in the glare of the public spotlight more than most (if not all) public figures. Fine artists may have strong social or political views, but these will tend to remain private unless they choose to share them. We may see politicians and sportspeople frequently on our TV screens, but they will tend to be garbed in their professional uniform of business suit or sports kit so you rarely gain an insight into their off screen persona. Actors are chameleons, and it will be rare that we will see behind the mask they have been trained to wear.
Musicians, however – and particularly popular musicians – are often seen as public property, hugely influential role models. We want a part of them, we feel we own them. Many of them have highly publicised complex relationships with addiction, and in the absence of constructive public education about drugs, sex, gambling, alcohol, eating disorder etc they can become hugely influential role models, for good or ill.
I have always been passionate about music, and identify aspects of my personality with any number of artistes – from Chopin to Chumbwumba! Their joy and pain reach into my emotional core. Their torments sadden me, but help teach me how to heal. Their happiness shows me a way to work through my problems to a place I want to be. Perhaps they influenced me into my own journey of addiction, but equally they have often helped me navigate my way through it, and now I am in recovery I can see their own addiction at worst as a cautionary tale, and at best as just an aspect of a multi-faceted personality, that is more than the drug or behaviour they are famous for.
Today for a variety of reasons I am struggling a bit emotionally, so to hear two difficult messages back to back has affected me more than I thought it would. First came the news of the death of Keith Flint, front man of The Prodigy. Although David Bowie was for me possibly the biggest influence on my life, when he died I did not feel huge grief, as he had led a quite long but definitely full and rewarding life. He had gone through his difficult years post cocaine and alcohol, and become part of the establishment, albeit an esoteric part. He also died of a natural cause, albeit relatively young.
I do not know much about the circumstances of Keith’s death and apologise for speculation, but if it was a suicide as has been reported it seems sad (as usual) to think of the positive things in his life that ended when he took his life. With the appropriate name of Flint, he embodied a tough and sharp intelligence, standing up for his creative identity. I loved the way the work fused the ragga rebel culture of Dub with street sharp drum n’ bass, and the unapologetic attitude in the lyric that did not fight shy of expressing difficult masculine emotions and tropes. Both before and after my dalliance with rave culture I admired the Hutspa of his persona, it buoyed me up on many a fragile occasion and validated my personal exploration.
While processing this news, I thought I would soothe myself by catching up with news of the Specials’ tour and album, with Terry Hall being interviewed on BBC Radio 4’s Front Row. I’ve loved Terry Hall since Two Tone got popular at the turn of the 1970s/80s. Mad as I was on post punk but equally concerned at the resurgence of fascism and right wing pop culture at that time, it was amazing to see this lively, clever, funny and funky phenomenon presenting a positive and inclusive vision of a way of living together.
Up till then, bands were either white (almost all of them) or black (Motown and disco, Bob Marley and a select few other reggae artists who had emerged from Jamaica). Some black front men like Eddie Grant and Erroll Brown stood out, but felt like the exception to the rule. So to see Madness, Selecter, UB40 and The Specials et al fuse punk attitude and skank into one musical offering was mind blowing for me.
I loved the compassionate intelligence behind the lyrics, the political message and the nutty chaos of songs like “Nightclub”, “Concrete Jungle”, “Too Much Too Young” and “It Doesn’t Make It Alright” – as well as the post Specials Funboy Three offering “Ghost Town”.
There was always a darkness behind the words, and Terry pancake eye makeup hinted at something beyond reach. Even that inspired me, but what I now know helps explain the pain it masked.
I’m really pleased that many of those bands – who had never really made much money back in the day – have been able to share in the payday of relove for watching 80s bands live, and had enjoyed listening to tracks from the new Specials album on BBC6 Music. I had never really heard Terry’s speaking voice, so was intrigued to hear what he had to say.
The interview started with some pleasantries, and I was immediately taken with how unaffected and natural Terry sounded, how honest and self-effacing. Not like your normal rock star interview. Before long, however, Terry – who had started to sound a bit nervous to me – dropped the bombshell that as a 12 year old he had been abducted by a paedophile ring and taken to France. Wow! You don’t hear that every day.
Terry was brutally honest about the impact that this had on his mental health and his life in general. He talked intelligently about his relationship with psychiatrists and about bipolar disorder. I am just in total awe of his honesty, and love him, feel for him, want to try not to rescue him, but to wish him all love and good fortune as he continues to inspire.
Terry and Keith – I feel my Higher Power through you. You make me a better man.
Paul Keeping
5 March 2019