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Thoughts by The Millions, About The Late Alex Chilton

Alex Chilton - Photo by Jim Newberry

As a preface to the little article/remembrance below, know that I seem to be all over the place because my mind still is jumbled concerning Alex Chilton’s death. I could certainly talk all day about how much his music meant to me and how much I am shocked by his passing. Below are just some thoughts running through my head these last few days, nothing more but nothing less……

It’s been a rough few days, that I can tell you with all the certainty I am able to muster. I had always promised myself as a music journalist never to let my own personal fandom interfere with the job, to let it affect me. I made it a personal vendetta never to let my giddyness show when I met someone I looked up to and idolized, whether it be Colin Blunstone, B.B. King, the guys from Sloan or anyone I had written about or reviewed/interviewed and then had the pleasure to actually meet face to face. I had made myself a promise I would never turn into a quivering wreck when one of my heroes passed. Since they were human, I had decided they had a right to eternal peace just as everyone else did and I would neither hold it against them, bemoan the fact they died before their time (whatever that means), or spend days, weeks or months “getting over” it as if I actually knew them or had a personal connection to them in some selfishly imaginary way. We tend to think of our heroes as our friends because their work affects us in untold ways. People die all the time and I felt it was needless to get worked up about it and to just let their music or their art I enjoyed so much allow them to live on as if they would always be there, which, in theory, they would.

But I never counted on this.