LIVE FAST, DIE AT 27 AND LEAVE A BAD-LOOKING CORPSE:
THE STRANGE CASE OF ROCK STARS WHO DIED MYSTERIOUSLY AT 27

“My my, hey hey Rock and roll is here to stay It’s better to burn out than to fade away Out of the blue and into the black They give you this, but you pay for that And once you’re gone, you can never come back The king is gone but he’s not forgotten This is the story of a Johnny Rotten It’s better to burn out than it is to rust The king is gone but he’s not forgotten…” From Neil Young’s hit, ‘Out Of The Blue’.

The slogan, “live fast, die young, and have a goodlooking corpse”, by a tragic gangster protagonist in Willard Motley’s best novel, Knock On Any Door (1947), should have read: “Live fast, die at 27, and have a drug-riddled corpse.” At least the latter version would have struck a chord with the fl ower power generation of the sixties. After all, these are contemporaries of Jimi Hendrix, Jim Morrison, Janis Joplin and Brian Jones. Of course, what the Four J’s have in common is that they were fabulously talented musicians who left a rich cultural legacy. But more telling is that these four died within two years of each other – between July 3 1969 and July 3 1971 – under tragic and mysterious circumstances with drugs as the common denominator in the cause of their deaths. Equally astonishing is that Brian Jones (‘69) and Jim Morrison (‘71) died on the same date – July 3. There was a shocking number of high profile deaths of 27-year-old rockers before 1969 and after 1971 – the likes of Jesse Belvin (‘60), and Johnny Kidd (‘66). Both were casualties of car accidents. Then there were Ron McKernan(‘73) of the Grateful Dead (alcoholism) and Thain Gary (‘76), bassist of Uriah Heap who died of a heroin overdose. But the Four J’s are the original members of the mythical and mysterious Club 27 – thanks to the proximity of their deaths and their pre-eminence on the rock ‘n
roll hall of fame, offi cially or otherwise.

Seattle-born Jimi Hendrix (1942-1970) was a left-handed genius of the electric guitar whose explosive stagecraft contrasted sharply with his gentle character but gave him a reputation as the greatest rock guitarist who ever lived. In her most intimate and authoritative portrait of the doomed rock superstar, Jimi Hendrix – The Man, The Magic, The Truth (2006), pop music journalist, Sharon Lawrence, recalls Hendrix’s interest in numerology and belief in the power of the number nine (2+7?) as his personal number. “I have been searching for this book,” he said to me on a summer afternoon. “I bought it in London, and I want you to read it.” Jimi held up a slightly tattered, faded book published at the turn of the century, a classic reference on numerology. “This is important. I’ve read it dozens of times. You should read it. I think that you are a fi ve. I am a nine,” Jimi said softly, as he were confi ding a rare and special secret. “It’s a powerful number, and it can be very good or very bad. Nines are meant to accomplish things in this world.” (p.149). The cause of Hendrix’s death was found to have been an overdose of sleeping tablets and choking on his own vomit (asphyxiation). The tablets – called Vesperax – belonged to his girlfriend, Monika Dannemann. They came in packets of ten. According to the German-born blonde, only one tablet was left in a packet. Hendrix the numerologist had swallowed nine of them, a number that eventually proved to be ‘very bad’ for him. While suicide could not be conclusively proven, weeks before his death Hendrix was a disillusioned man who constantly complained of sharks in the industry who wanted a piece of his estate – lawyers, hangers-on and a father whom he said was more interested in his money than in his welfare. And the chilling lyrics of his final writings read like a suicide note: “The story of life is quicker than the wink of an eye…/ the story of love is hello and goodbye until we meet again.” Brian Jones [1942-1969] was a devout Jimi Hendrix fan after he was captivated by his incredible stage persona during a New York concert. But Jones was a great artist in his own right. A brilliant guitarist and multi-talented musician, he was a founder member of arguably the greatest rock band ever, the Rolling Stones, and is credited with having named them.

Despite his awesome musical and managerial talents, Jones struggled with a drug addiction which eventually sent him to an early grave – fate which paved the way for his reputation as the fi rst of the original Club 27. One school of thought has it that the cause of his troubled life was the disillusionment he experienced after failing to convince band members to follow an R&B and blues genre instead of rock. The same school maintains that he preferred R&B covers while other members like Mick Jagger and Keith Richards were determined to write and record original material. It seems the alienation and sense of despair became too much and one afternoon when his body was discovered inside a swimming pool, it opened floodgates of conspiracy theories ranging from suicide to murder. One thing was apparent, though: Brian Jones was very unhappy artist. He is said to have written: “To be happy” in his list of “personal ambitions”. His father, Lewis Jones’s anguished writings on a son’s difficult upbringing is illuminating. “Up to a certain point, Brian was a perfectly normal, conventional boy who was well behaved and well liked. He was quite a model school boy. Then came this peculiar change in his early teens. He began
to have some resentment of authority. He seemed to have first a mild rebellion which unfortunately became stronger as he grew older.” “For many years from the formation of the Stones, up to the end of 1966, Brian was extremely happy. What I firmly believe was the turning point in Brian’s life was when he lost the only girl he ever truly loved. He changed suddenly and alarmingly from a bright enthusiastic young man to a quiet, morose, and inward-looking young man. His mother and I were quite shocked by the change in his appearance, and in our opinion, he was never the same boy again.

It was at that time I think that he got mixed up with drugs.” While Brian Jones was the fi rst Club 27, Janis Joplin [1943-1970] was its only female and undisputed queen. One of the most infl uential rock ‘n roll artists of the twentieth century, Texas-born Joplin was a prodigiously gifted vocalist whose exploits on stage and in the studio earned her unparalleled accolades long after her tragically premature passing. In
2004 she was ranked #46 on the list of the 100 Greatest Artists of All Time by Rolling Stone magazine. Last year, the same publication ranked her #28 on its 2008 list of 100 Greatest Singers of All Time. As a lead singer for Big Brother and The Holding Company, a psychedelic hippie rock band, Joplin became one of the key fi gures of the rock ‘n roll era, and like Hendrix, she headlined what is still
regarded as the biggest festival in history – Woodstock, reportedly very high on heroin and alcohol. Attempts to clean up her act failed dismally. After undergoing rehabilitation in Brazil, she returned to the US where she died from an apparent heroin overdose in October 1970. And of course, another casualty of alcohol and heroin addiction who wraps up the sad saga of Club 27 is Jim Morrison [1943-1971], who died exactly two years after the demise of Brian Jones. A poet, writer and fi lmmaker, he was indeed a multi-talented genius who is well remembered for his lead-singer role with The Doors. Known for his honest lyrics that captured his rollercoaster lifestyle and a punchy vocal style, Morrison was a rocker with a poetic soul nurtured by his favourite poet, William Blake. His seminal albums, Morrison Hotel and LA Woman, remain collectors’ items.

Like his fellow Club 27’s, Morrison had a diffi cult childhood – a nomadic, military upbringing whose mode of discipline involved parents shouting down at a child offender until he breaks down in tears. The Doors enjoyed great success but it was short-lived after Morrison’s drinking and drug use started getting out of control. He was found dead in a bathtub of a Paris apartment. The fact that no autopsy was conducted – because under French law it is only conducted if there is suspicion of foul play – helped to fuel all sorts of conspiracy theories. But it is widely believed that he died of heart failure presumably as a result of heroin overdose. Pamela Courson, long-time companion of Morrison, was one of his confi dantes who believed that he died of heroin overdose. In a poignant twist of fate, she died three years later at the age of – you guessed it – 27. Twenty-fi ve years after Morrison’s death, a grief-stricken Seattle mother lamented the death of a famous son. He berated him for having ignored her warning “not to join that stupid club”. Bandleader Kurt Cobain [1967-1994], according to the offi cial version, had shot himself in the head with a hunting rifle. And so twenty-four years after Hendrix’s death, Seattle mourned once more another left-handed guitarist and pioneer of grunge. In the early nineties, Cobain’s band, Nirvana, was a pop phenomenon – toppling Michael Jackson off the #1 position in the Billboard music charts with their cult hit, Smells Like Teen Spirit. But Cobain had an unhappy childhood defined by divorced parents and grew up as a resentful teenage rebel. In a 1993 interview with Guitar World, he said, “I remember feeling ashamed. I was ashamed of my parents. I couldn’t face some of my friends at school anymore, because I desperately wanted to have the classic typical family – mother and father. I wanted that security, so I resented my parents for quite a few years because of that.” His musical talents – which started showing from the age of two when he sang The Beatles’ Hey Jude – and overnight fame failed to rescue him and in the spring of 1994 he was found dead, a Remington rifl e lodged in his mouth and large amounts of heroin and Valium in his blood.

The official verdict was suicide but to this day most of Cobain’s friends believe there was foul play. There are also private investigators who believe that somebody was responsible for his demise. But in Heavier Than Heaven (2007), a moving and defi nitive account of Cobain’s turbulent life, author Charles R. Cross quotes the rock star’s sister as saying since his teenage years, Cobain had often expressed his desire to join Club 27. Also, his quote of Neil Young in the note found by the police next to his body – “It’s better to burn out than to fadeaway” – also suggests suicide. “I have it good…and I’m grateful, but since the age of seven, I’ve become hateful towards all
humans in general. Only because it seems so easy for people to get along that have empathy.” “Only because I love and feel sorry for people too much I guess. Thank you all from the pit of my burning, nauseous stomach for your letters and concern during the past years. I’m too much of an erratic, moody baby! I don’t have the passion anymore, and so remember, it’s better to burn out than to fade away.”
But the curse of Number 27 is not only a rock affl iction from the West. In recent years, South Africa has had her fair share of casualties – outstanding musicians who held so much promise as future superstars; the likes of piano prodigy Moses Taiwa Molelekwa to singing sensation, Tsakani “TK” Mhinga. With the exception of Iggy Smallz and Wendy Mseleku, drugs were cited in the deaths of these young talents. Their mysterious deaths also spawned stuff of legends and conspiracy theories. Wendy Mseleku (1973-2000) passed away after a long coma caused by birthing complications. Mseleku was a vocal powerhouse whose name was mentioned in the same league as Sibongile Khumalo, Sibongile Mngoma and Margaret Motsage.

A versatile artist who was at home with various genres – gospel, kwaito and R&B – she also starred in the movie, Sarafi na! alongside Whoopi Goldberg and Leleti Khumalo. Moses Taiwa Molelekwa (1973-2001) – was a piano prodigy who achieved his first international tour with Hugh Masekela when he was barely 18. At 19 he was already a household name and SAMA winner for his groundbreaking album, Finding One Self. It remains the only album to have won Best Contemporary and Best Traditional Album awards. He and his wife were found hanged in what is believed to be suicide and murder by some and foul play by others. Those who rule out suicide and murder reason that he was too lightweight to have overpowered his buxom wife, hang her and then still find the strength to hang himself. They also claim that his body was severely battered, bruised and swollen. Another theory is that he was murdered by Nigerian drug lords because he owed them a lot of money and had threatened to expose them. An offi cial autopsy was never released for reasons that remain unclear. Ignatius “Iggy Smallz” Motshwane (1977-2004) – was a popular deejay, musician and Y-FM music manager who pioneered a mix of house and kwaito dubbed ‘motswako’ (mix). He was the other half of a house/kwaito duo called Twistyle. He died in a head-on collision on his way home after a gig in Botswana. The impact sparked a blaze which incinerated him and a girlfriend. Police could only identify him by the shoes he was wearing. Tsakani “TK” Mhinga (1978-2006) was a gifted songbird who made a name for herself as an R&B artist of note. Such was her vocal prowess that since the release of her debut album, TKO, she knocked out all her rivals to take the SAMA’s Best R&B Album Award a historic three times in a row.

But the Black Butterfly, as her last album is titled, will fl oat no more. Her passing left behind speculation of cocaine use and alcohol abuse. Moses Aggrey Khumalo (1979-2006). The tragic death of this talented saxophonist under questionable circumstances has elicited comparisons with the manner of the passing of his mentor and namesake, Moses Taiwa Molelekwa. He was found hung in his house. But friends say the soles of his shoes were covered with a lot of dust – suggesting that he was murdered and taken to his house where he was hanged. ‘’I have realised that some of the people I used to regard as friends are actually my enemies who were out to destroy me by leading me astray with a drug lifestyle. But after coming back from rehabilitation I have wised up and see life in a different light’’, he once confi ded in me. Like in the Molelekwa case, no results of a postmortem were released. According to clinical psychologist, Linda Blair, the twenties are the years when young people are still trying to fi gure out their place and role in society. “We spend an awful lot of our twenties defi ning ourselves with our jobs and our relationships. When we reach 27 we’ve been trying so hard to reach certain goals – fame, money, success – that we might suddenly realise for the fi rst time that we’re not that happy after all. And we are supposed to be grown-up and responsible, and we don’t feel ready; which is perhaps why it is so sad when people die at that age.”

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