Lovely piece just in from Big O . . . . . .
CHET FLIPPO, FORMER ROLLING STONE EDITOR, DEAD AT 69
Chet Flippo, a former Rolling Stone editor who was the editorial
director of CMT, died this morning (June 19, 2013). He was 69. No cause
of death was available.
Flippo started writing for Rolling Stone when he was studying at the
University of Texas in Austin, where he earned a master’s degree in
journalism. He became Rolling Stone’s New York bureau chief in 1974, and
took on the title of senior editor when the magazine relocated from San
Francisco in 1977.
In addition to writing about artists including Bob Dylan, John Lennon
and the Rolling Stones – the latter in a confrontational 1978 cover
story – Flippo helped boost the profile of country music with his
coverage of artists such as Willie Nelson, Waylon Jennings and Dolly
Parton. He left Rolling Stone in 1980 to write his first book, Your
Cheatin’ Heart: A Biography of Hank Williams, which he followed up with
titles about Paul McCartney, the Stones, David Bowie and Graceland.
Flippo also contributed to The New York Times, Texas Monthly and Q
magazine.
In the early ’90s, Flippo taught journalism as the University of
Tennessee in Knoxville, before moving to Nashville in 1995 to work as
Billboard’s bureau chief there. After leaving for Sonicnet in 2000, he
joined CMT in 2001, where he wrote the influential column “Nashville
Skyline” - a forthright survey of artists he deemed worthwhile and
music-industry transgressions he decried.
“Chet was a fierce advocate for country music long before country was
cool,” CMT President Brian Philips said in a statement. He continued,
“Chet articulated the virtues and joys of country music with a passion
and intelligence that helped make the genre respectable even among snobs
and city slickers.”
Flippo was born in Fort Worth, Texas, in 1943, and served in the Navy
during the Vietnam War. His wife, the journalist Martha Hume, died last
December. - Eric R Danton, Rolling Stone
Chet
Flippo, former editor at Rolling Stone and a journalist who championed
country music, died on June 19, 2013 after a long illness. He was 69.
Below is a December 18, 2003 article Flippo wrote on Gary Stewart, a
country singer who had gone too soon.
 |
| Chet, Willie and Jimmy Carter |
June 26, 2013 – 4:24 pm
He was just a little slip of a guy. He was so skinny that he could
almost, as they used to say about Hank Williams, “change clothes inside a
shotgun barrel.” But when Gary Stewart opened his mouth, big things
happened. The guy sang big, and he lived big. What a shame he died
small.
When I heard that he had fatally shot himself this week, I lit a
candle and played a song for one of the most soulful country singers I
ever met. His passing struck a personal chord with a lot of people I
knew and a lot that I didn’t know. I was surprised and pleased to see an
amazing amount of Internet chatter about Stewart and to see the great
many heartfelt tributes that people were posting online.
He was simultaneously more country than most country artists of his
time and more of a staunch, down-and-dirty Southern rocker than almost
all of the Southern rockers. I’m not sure that he ever realized just how
good he was. A Gary Stewart performance was an amazing thing. Think of
Jerry Lee Lewis boiled down into an even more devilish imp who was not
going to let you get away without a Holy Ghost blessing from the fount
of rockin’ country.
That show translated especially well in New York City, where I was
living when I first saw him perform. His shows were like fevered honky
church services. Much of the time, he was a wild man, onstage and off.
He scared a lot of people by his intensity. But downtown New York was
very receptive to that combustive aura of an artist burning talent at
white heat. I didn’t know him well, but he became a friend instantly
when I met him at New York’s Lone Star Café.
I was then in the process of writing a book about Hank Williams, and
Stewart was fascinated by the life and the legend of Hank. And he was
especially drawn by the strange link he felt with Hank’s
self-destructive tendencies, the romance of self-destruction. The moth
to the flame syndrome that’s killed creative people from the poet
Rimbaud to the actor James Dean to the country star Hank Williams to the
rock stars Jim Morrison and Janis Joplin was burning in young Gary
Stewart. We talked about the motivation behind Hank’s songs, about his
decline, about his burnout. And, of course, about the music.
You owe it to yourself, if you’ve never heard Gary Stewart, to give
the man a listen. Such songs as “Out of Hand” and “Your Place or Mine”
are pure honky-tonk havens. The title of “She’s Actin’ Single (I’m
Drinking Doubles)” is treated like a country joke these days, but that
song itself is a primer in lyrics that come straight from the dark night
of the soul. Stewart put his heart and soul into his music, but he also
bought into the old romantic notion of the outlaw singer as doomed
wastrel and he thought that drugs and alcohol were crucial parts of the
equation.
I wonder if he died of a broken heart and if that’s what impelled him
to turn a pistol on himself. He was haunted by the suicide of his son
Gary Joseph, who shot and killed himself in 1988.
Stewart’s career itself had evaporated. Like Hank Williams, he was
bothered by chronic back pain. In Stewart’s case, it came from a car
wreck. And then his beloved wife of more than four decades, Mary Lou,
died. There was just nothing much left for him. I know that same
situation had also happened to the only other country star that I
personally knew who shot himself. Faron Young simply could not stand the
sheer vacuum and banality that his life had become after his career and
personal life dried up and he lost his stardust. So he bit the bullet.
Early in his career, Young summed up the romantic credo in his first No.
1 song, when he sang “I wanta live fast, love hard, die young - and
leave a beautiful memory.”
Stop and consider this: Gary Stewart’s contemporary Billy Joe Shaver
lost everything in the past few years. All of his loved ones - his
mother, his wife, and his son (who was also his musical partner) - were
gone in a short span of time. His career went away. He suffered a
massive heart attack. He was knocked down to his knees but he’s gotten
up and fought back and actually gone on to create new music. What’s the
difference between Gary Stewart and Billy Joe Shaver? Why did one pick
up the gun and why did the other go back to pick up the microphone? I
don’t know.
Note: The above article was posted at cmt.com and circulated by Rock & Rap Confidential.
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