Is it better to burn out or fade away? Neil Young pondered as he wrote Hey Hey My Myback in 1979 – Should he keep making the same music or walk away from it all, like Johnny Rotten of The Sex Pistols had just done? His words would resonate with rock legends past and future, and leave us all wondering the same.
A year later, John Lennon was shot down by a disillusioned fan with Catcher in the Rye in his back pocket. As life left him on the New York pavement, myth engulfed him – This was a man who had perpetrated his own living myth through his musical genius and eccentricities; a man that had once seriously considered that he was the re-incarnation of Jesus; a man that had led the greatest band that ever existed and then left that band to make his own wondrous music… His senseless murder immortalised the legend of Lennon, and the only person that could tarnish that image was gone.
The other half of the famous song-writing duo, Paul McCartney, would live on – His face would age, his voice would falter and his creativity would slowly fade. What if it was McCartney that had died young with his youthful image emblazoned in our collective memories? He would forever be the baby-faced Beatle at the height of his creativity, with endless hope and possibility in his eyes.
If Lennon had lived, age would have weathered his face and the emotional power of his voice would have faded. Would he be playing Imagine over and over again to the cries of adoring fans or join Ringo up on stage playing his old Beatles tracks at reunion concerts? Would he deride Western Government’s for their involvement in Middle Eastern Wars or would he live a quiet humble life away from the spotlight? He certainly wouldn’t be the mythical dream that he has become… shining in his white angel-suit, his long hair half-covering his small round glasses, his eyes alert, looking out daringly from above his long, unkempt beard... this image immortalised by the tragedy of his death – For it is only the living that can damage their legend.
Neil Young pondered whether it’s better to burn out or fade away. A decade and a half later the same thought was pondered in much more terrifying and tragic circumstances. Kurt Cobain had written them on his suicide note before he shot himself – Maybe he wanted to be immortalized. He was 27 years old at the time of his death and there was something mystical about that. After all, Jimi Hendix, Jim Morrison, Brian Jones and Janis Joplin had all died at 27, remaining forever young in the hearts of their fans. They were all shy, talented, and filled with a penchant for self-destruction. One wonders if they could have lived on – Imagine Jim Morrison as an old man! Some it seems are destined for myth. Life can’t hold them. They shine too brightly, ‘like a shooting star’, as Morrison once mused.
James Dean was another that shined bright. He lived fast and died young. So much so, that he came to embody the phrase "live fast, die young and leave a beautiful-looking corpse." So much has myth enveloped this young actor, who starred in just three films, that this phrase, taken from the 1949 movie Knock on Any Door, has been misattributed to him. It fits his legend – a handsome rebel with a love for fast cars, a great actor that was destined for big things on the big screen but found a different sort of immortality when he was killed by the roadside at 24.
James Dean died so young and so early in his career that a legend has been made from tiny glimpses of his life, gleamed through his short body of film work – In two of his films he was a rebel. Elvis, on the other hand, lived too long – destroying the legend that he had created. Our lasting image of Elvis is not the magnetic, handsome, brilliant rock ‘n’ roll star that melted ladies hearts with his smile and scorched the sensibilities of middle America with his provocative jives, but of a sad, overweight has-been, addicted to prescription pills, and hardly able to walk let alone sing and dance. The man that had been the King was little more than a joke towards the end. He cheated his myth by staying on this earth too long, and his legend faded before his life ended.
Some, like Keith Richards, can live fast and live long – and their legend seems to only grow with age, but for most – age will only diminish them. To burn out – to live fast and die young – leaves the legend as it was, at its creative peak – forever young with infinite possibilities. The myth becomes reality – Hendrix will always be the God of Electric; blazing on that guitar, dazzling at Woodstock, taking psychedelic rock into the stratosphere and his audiences through colourful voyages into the subconscious. His gravelly face is still young and full of rebellion; his clothes are still bright, rainbow-like; his hair is still thick and curly and his music will always be magical. There is no chance for his music to become mediocre with age, no chance for his performances to descend into farce. His death immortalised him in a way that the living can never achieve – he can never fade away!
The brightest stars don’t often burn the longest. They light up the night sky for one brief moment, and that moment is worth more than everything else around it, dazzling for a brief moment before disappearing forever.
Neil Young returns to the stage for his farewell tour; his hair is grey, and he’s looking a little heavier than in years gone. He is happy - There is no place he'd rather be. He stands by the microphone in his black corduroy jacket, guitar in hand, bouncing ever so slightly to the beat. ’Hey Hey My My, Rock ‘n’ Roll will never die’ – His voice is not what it used to be, but he’s still got a touch of the soft melodic folk drawl that made him a legend. ’The King is gone but he’s not forgotten, this is the story of Johnny rotten’ He looks to the adoring crowd as he embarks on the last chorus ‘It’s better to bun out than fade away’ He closes his eyes and thinks of Kurt Cobain. A lump rises in his throat, and for a second he ponders the same thoughts that filled him when he wrote the song in a different lifetime. As he comes to the end, he opens his eye, looks around, and then lets rips on his guitar. The sound hangs in the air for a moment before it slowly fades away.
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