The Giant Panther

I know I'm not the only one who wakes up one day, turns on the radio and is numbed by news of the passing of a famous person. This morning was one of those days for me. Let me admit for the record I don't have any feel for the body of work Miriam Makeba produced over her long career as a recording artist. I'm not much for World Beat music, but aside from being a bit of a Top 40 snob, I'd like to think I am very open minded when it comes to "popular" music. If I own anything to be embarrassed about, and I definitely do (hello Ohio Express and every bubblebum pop record I hung my hat on in the late 60's), I'm more likely to embrace my phases more than distance myself from them these days. I was weened on AM Gold (call it 1967-1972 if we have to pin it down) and proud of it. WABC-AM in New York was a monster station in my child hood. Even the school bus driver had it playing in my small New Jersey town of Millington when I was doing the K-4 shuffle. I loved bands like Steppenwolf (a legitimate rock band hiding among the one hit wonder fluff of the day), The Grass Roots, Three Dog Night, The Monkees, The Box Tops, and the early Bee Gees. To this day I'm not ashamed of my fondness for these bands. Slowly but surely the FM dial took over and bands that were shifting the charts toward heavier sounds like The Doors, Cream, Grand Funk Railroad, The Rolling Stones, Bob Dylan, Jefferson Airplane, Jimi Hendrix, The Velvet Underground, Big Brother & The Holding Company, Traffic, Led Zeppelin, Mountain and scores of others needed a place to go. What was cool and still deemed AM friendly were bands like Creedence Clearwater Revival, Free, The Kinks, Chicago, Sly & The Family Stone, The Byrds, The Mamas & The Papas, Procol Harum and The Moody Blues. The reason I mention this is because radio was so wide open there was room for diverse artists like Miriam Makeba, Desmond Dekker, Jean Knight, Mungo Jerry, Alive & Kicking, Edison Lighthouse, The Zombies, Tommy James, Hugh Masekela, Chaka Kahn, Ray Charles and the like. Today many of these artists would never see the light of day. It was literally a free for all. I liked it a lot better then. Today you can barely get new and interesting Indie artists played anywhere let alone on the face of new music here in Boston WFNX-FM. It's discouraging.

African born Miriam Makeba's 1967 single "Pata Pata" was a spectacular example of a song with global appeal. Jamiacan born Desmond Dekker's 1968 single "Israelites" was another masterpiece from that era. Cameroon singer Manu Dibango's 1972 single "Soul Makossa" is yet another one that comes to mind. All of these songs got massive radio play back in the day and were ingrained into my brain at an early age. I had almost forgot about Miriam Makeba until one day I was watching the recently cancelled show Las Vegas a couple of years back. That show was famous for resurrecting James Caan and for the parade of ridiculously attractive women; Vanessa Marcil and Molly Sims in particular. If memory serves it used to show on Friday nights (loser alert) at 10 PM and though it may appear that I am friendless I used to videotape (yikes) it so I could watch it later. Since we are getting held up at gun point by cable companies anyway...DVR is a fantastic invention. So I'm mindlessly wasting yet another hour of my life watching Las Vegas when, at the end of one of the episodes, Miriam Makeba's Pata Pata comes on. I had totally forgotten what a great song that is. I hadn't heard it in years. Of course I went and downloaded it within minutes and actually play it on my computer jukebox fairly frequently when reading other sites.

I guess my point here is unfortunately musicians die every day. I can tell you this one touched me with one single song. It's such a feel good song I can't even express it in words. It's kind of funny coming from a guy who listens to Nine Inch Nails, Stabbing Westward and even Marilyn Manson from time to time, but this song will always have a place in my heart. People love to used the phrase "one hit wonder" as if it is something to be ashamed of. How ridiculous. Making ONE great song is something I always wished I could do. It's like a .203 career hitter homering in his only World Series at bat (who is 1976 New York Yankee reserve shortstop Jim Mason). It's something to be celebrated. Miriam Makeba has had a full life of performing music I'll probably never hear, but she made her mark on this music lover. She was performing when her heart gave out at 76 yesterday. Rest in Peace Miriam. You earned it.