Warren Zevon January 24, 1947 – September 7, 2003

2007 July 29
by profwagstaff

“This time I have to leave It’s all too clear It’s plain to see. No use in hanging around You’ll get by somehow This time I have to leave.” –”I Have To Leave” from My Ride’s Here (2002)

Once there was a man who could tell an entire story in four minutes. Those stories were full of guns, desperadoes, hearse drivers, killers and presidential envoys. But everyone only knew him because of a couple of werewolves. Warren Zevon passed away Sunday night at the age of 56. He had been diagnosed with mesothelioma, the same kind of rare lung cancer that killed Steve McQueen. He was told that he only had a couple of months to live. One year, a new album, twin grandsons and one Bond movie later, he has finally succumbed.

Born in Chicago on January 24, 1947 to Russian immigrants, Warren had a hard, young life. His mother, a Mormon, was always sick and his father was a gambling gangster who never liked to stay in one place for long. When classical piano wasn’t working for the boy, he picked up a guitar. Then he left home for New York City to try to be a folk singer. But it wasn’t until he moved to LA that he really started to see some success.

His duo, Lyme And Cybelle, cut some singles and his songs were starting to get recorded by other artists such as The Turtles. (One of his songs, “Like The Seasons,” was the B-side to “Happy Together.”)

After the demise of Lyme And Cybelle, he cut his first solo album in 1969, Wanted Dead Or Alive. The album sounds steeped in the 60s and is actually not very good. A few songs, like “A Bullet For Roberta,” reflect his obsession with death and dark humor, but his stride wouldn’t be hit for another 7 years.

Since his first album was ignored by just about everyone, he decided to forgo a career as a recording artist for a while and spent time doing sessions around LA and playing on stage with the Everly Brothers just before they split.

The mid-70s saw Linda Ronstadt choosing his song “Hasten Down The Wind” as the title track of one of her albums. Along with “Mohammed’s Radio” (from 1980′s Mad Love), “Carmelita” and “Poor, Poor Pitiful Me” (both from 1977′s Simple Dreams), Ronstadt had a mini-career covering Warren’s songs.

This spurred him on to making his own album again. He and his friend Jackson Brown (who got him the contract with Asylum) went into the studio with lots of other LA professionals (including members of The Eagles, Fleetwood Mac, JD Souther, Bonnie Raitt, Phil Everly and Carl Wilson) and cut all four of the above songs along with seven others. The result was a self-titled album of dark LA musings (“Desperadoes Under The Eaves,” “Join Me In LA”), druggies (“The French Inhaler,” “Carmelita”), an autobiography (“Mama Couldn’t Be Persuaded”), a partier (“I’ll Sleep When I’m Dead”) and a direct rip on Brown’s own “Take It Easy” (“Poor, Poor Pitiful Me”). The album is a classic of the era and sold only modestly. This was no ordinary singer/songwriter. This guy had bite.

His next album, 1978′s Excitable Boy, carried the darkness a step further. It became his biggest hit off the strength of “Werewolves Of London,” one of his weaker hits, but it’s the one everyone knows. Other tracks like “Roland The Headless Thompson Gunner,” “Lawyers, Guns And Money” and “Excitable Boy” all continued the darkness of the hit with peoples’ heads being blown off, a girl being raped and killed and the narrator going to prison. But this time it was the bittersweet tracks that really stood out. “Accidentally Like A Martyr” and “Veracruz” show a side of Warren that is probably truer than the dark, hard-boiled writer. He was also a wounded soul with a vulnerable heart. This album also started his relationship with his long-time writing partner, Jorge Calderon and features Ronstadt on backing vocals.

1980′s Bad Luck Streak In Dancing School was a bit of a departure, but still had the strange bite of the last two albums. Only a few tracks truly stand out: the Lyndyrd Skynyrd rip “Play It All Night Long,” the Springsteen collaboration “Jeannie Needs A Shooter and the heartbroken “Empty Handed Heart.”

His next two albums, 1981′s live set Stand In The Fire and 1982′s The Envoy, are both out of print. I’ve only heard each of them once and they’re not bad. Stand In The Fire shows that he could rock out when he wanted to and, since he was clean and sober for the first time, he really wanted to. The Envoy is a slightly sentimental set with a few high points including the political title track, the jaded traveling song “Ain’t That Pretty At All” and the beaten “Looking For The Next Best Thing.”

The next five years saw Zevon falling off the wagon and getting back on. He spent time in and out of rehab centers and hospitals. Finally, in 1987 he came back with his best set since Warren Zevon, Sentimental Hygiene. Recorded with most of the members of REM along with other session men and special guests (including Bob Dylan, Neil Young, Flea, Brian Setzer and George Clinton), the album rocks harder than just about anything he had done before and shows a personal side that was unusual at the time. Songs about his time in rehab (“Detox Mansion”), the music business (“Even A Dog Can Shake Hands”) and a plea to fans and past loves (“Reconsider Me”) add up to a great, lost album.

During the recording of Sentimental Hygiene he and the boys from REM recorded an albums worth of covers that showed their blues and funk influences. The Hindu Love Gods self-titled album that came out three years later is a great set. Their version of “Raspberry Beret” blows Prince’s out of the water. (According to www.allmusic.com, they formed in 1984 and released a single that disappeared. I’ve never heard of this, but it could be true.) Next up was a sci-fi concept album called Transverse City that was inspired by the cyberpunk fad going on at the end of the 80s. His satire of the age was dead on and his guest stars (Chick Corea, David Gilmour, Jerry Garcia, Neil Young and half of the Heartbreakers) were blistering. One of his most affecting songs of the decade, “Splendid Isolation,” appears here.

His next couple of studio albums, 91′s Mr. Bad Example and 95′s Mutineer, were weak efforts with only “Looking For A Heart” off of Mr. Bad Example being a stand-out. But the 1993 live set, Learning To Flinch, as a good unplugged set that includes all of his biggest hits plus some little known gems, all done in solo versions.

Just to show that you can’t keep a good writer down, Warren came back in the late 2000 with Life’ll Kill Ya. The production and arrangement are spare, but the songs are just as cynical and dark as ever. It’s a mostly acoustic set with songs about Elvis (“Porcelain Monkey”), S&M (“Hostage-O”) and a fear of doctors (“My Shit’s Fucked Up”). There’s even a Steve Winwood cover, “Back In The High Life Again,” that proves what a great songwriter Steve is. As he said in an interview, “All humans love Steve Winwood.” His cover is sad and sweet and one of the best things on an already great album.

Two years later he did it again with more of a back-up band and a couple of guests (Paul Shaffer and David Letterman). My Ride’s Here is a rocking set of sometimes Celtic, sometimes straight ahead rock and roll. “Genius” became a modern day Zevon classic while songs like “Sacrificial Lamb,” “Lord Byron’s Luggage” and the title track were all part of his new dark oeuvre. “You’re A Whole Different Person When You’re Scared” was even co-written by Hunter S. Thompson.

Just after the release of My Ride’s Here, Warren found out that he was dying. His avoidance of doctors finally caught up to him when he felt chest pains while working out one day. He went in and they found out about his lung cancer which he got from years of smoking.

The following year was one of the most graceful exits I’ve ever heard of from any celebrity. He joked about it (on an episode of Letterman completely devoted to him he said that it would suck if he didn’t make it to the next Bond film) and decided that he had to make one final album as a goodbye to his friends, family and fans.

Friends and admirers came from all around to rally around him and record with him one last time. Emmylou Harris, Dwight Yoakum, Springsteen, Tom Petty, Ry Cooder, Jackson Brown, John Waite, Tommy Shaw, Joe Walsh, Don Henley, Mike Campbell, Timothy B. Schmidt and, inexplicably, Billy Bob Thornton all make appearances on The Wind. The album is rife not with depressing dirges about impending doom, but hopefulness and fond farewells. “Prison Grove” and “Numb As A Statue” may have some darkness to them, but songs like “Disorder In The House” and “The Rest Of The Night” show a willingness to party until he drops. The most affecting moments are the closer “Keep Me In Your Heart” and his cover of Dylan’s “Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door.” Even in the picture on the cover of the album, showing a rather haggard looking Zevon, he looks as if he is defying death, but he’s ok with the ultimate outcome. He’s at peace even while he’s fighting to stay alive. It’s a great album that becomes a great ending to his career.

Sometime during the recording of the album he visited Dylan before a concert. He went backstage to talk to his friend and idol who said that he hoped he enjoyed the covers that he was going to do. Dylan ended up doing three of Zevon’s songs in a row: “Mutineer,” “Lawyers, Guns And Money,” and “Accidentally Like A Martyr.”

Warren loved every minute of it, but had to leave before the end of the concert.

His songs had always had death as a central theme, but now those songs take on a new meaning. Now we know that, even though he was obsessed with death in song, in life he wanted to enjoy every sandwich.

The Heartbroken Dark Jester of Rock is gone. Eat a sandwich in his name.

So long, Norman.

Want to hear what he’s all about? Check these out:

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