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The Who's John Entwistle Dead
crazyj was among several Slashdot readers who, knowing my obsession with the greatest band of all time, submitted that The Who's John Entwistle died. His death occured one day before the start of their
summer tour. The Ox was an amazing bassist, and I'm glad I got to see him play. Those fingers would just fly up that fretboard. He'll be missed.
(n/t)
Loneliness is a power that we possess to give or take away forever
I picked up a bass guitar when I was in College from 1997 to 1981 because of players like John Entwistle. I will miss him. I had to sell it in the summer of 96 when I was out of work, and needed to eat. I get a chuckle every time I see the video for My Generation. When Moon, Townshend, and Daltrey start smashing things, John cradled his bass like a baby, and stepped away from them. Rest in peace, Ox.
The Uncoveror: It's the real news.
Now we have three.
:-)
Ann Landers - Talking girls out of going past 2nd base for years.
Darryl Kyle - Tried to keep guys off of first base.
John Entwhistle - More and more bass.
How does Lance Bass pronouce his last name? And is he being shot off anytime soon?
B
Flamebait
Serious inquiries only.
Some may say that this is not a slashdot topic.
I agree.
But the editors have determined that this is appropriate for the slashdot audience.
I agree.
It's another sad day. It's another hero that I'll miss.
Best of luck to you John.
...the blistering bass workout on "The Real Me" on Quadrophenia. When I was going through serious issues with depression, this was my one of my favorite songs to slap on some headphones and just blast into my noggin. Between Daltrey's angry vocals, Moon's frantic drumming, Townsend's strumming, and Entwistle holding the whole thing together with an absolutely unbelievable performance, that song got me through many a rough night. It's a really sad day. John, here's to you. You'll be missed.
Fare thee well John.
"Boris The Spider"
Look, he's crawling up my wall
Black and hairy, very small
Now he's up above my head
Hanging by a little thread
Boris the spider
Boris the spider
Now he's dropped on to the floor
Heading for the bedroom door
Maybe he's as scared as me
Where's he gone now, I can't see
Boris the spider
Boris the spider
Creepy, crawly
Creepy, crawly
Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly
Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly
Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly
Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly
There he is wrapped in a ball
Doesn't seem to move at all
Perhaps he's dead, I'll just make sure
Pick this book up off the floor
Boris the spider
Boris the spider
Creepy, crawly
Creepy, crawly
Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly
Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly
Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly
Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly
He's come to a sticky end
Don't think he will ever mend
Never more will he crawl 'round
He's embedded in the ground
Boris the spider
Boris the spider
There are some people that if they don't know, you can't tell 'em.
I hope i get old before I die...
due to someone perhaps being in public schools reading this I dare not say Heaven
Excuse my hostility, but comments like this annoy me. When will people realize that shoving God down one's throat is exactly like prohibiting public mention of God?
Freedom of speech goes both ways. Do not force one to speak or not speak. Say Heaven or God or whatever strikes your fancy, but don't force others to say it with you. Is that such a hard concept to grasp?
The web is a dominatrix. Everywhere I turn, I see little buttons ordering me to Submit.
This was a real jolt, this realization. He was one of the main reasons I started playing bass at the tender age of 13 and spent many a year playing in punk, jazz and ambient musical projects. At the age of 33 Bass playing is still one of my most satisfying forms of catharses and I still love the who.
I will also never forget the time I brought the guy a cup of tea when he made an appearance at a radio station I was working in while I was in college. We had a nice chat, and I told him of the importance of his music to me and of my passion for playing inspired in no small part by him. He was a true, almost stereotypical 'English Gentleman' and I will always hold that experience very dear to my heart.
I am genuinely saddened by this news.
Quod scripsi, scripsi.
"My friends are dead! They may be your fucking icons but they're my fucking friends!"
In March of '96, my company flew me to Chicago for a week on business. The first night I was there, one of my co-workers showed me around town. I saw the sights, and quite a few bars. We were staying at the Omni Ambassador East Hotel, so our last stop of the night was the Pump Room, the hotel restaurant and bar. We ordered some glasses of Cabernet at the bar, and settled down to discuss the agenda for the following day. As we were speaking, two gentleman and and a few ladies came in and took positions on bar stools very nearby to me. I looked over and recognized Mr. Entwhistle. After talking with my friend about the star-sighting, I asked the bartender what he was drinking, and if he would mind if I bought him one. She said she'd ask. A couple of minutes later, she stopped near him and motioned towards me. He looked over, I nodded my head and smiled, and he nodded back. He accepted the drink, and continued speaking with his friends. Being totally hammered from drinking all night, I thought that was pretty cool. A nod from a legendary rock star. Wow! A few more minutes passed, and we decided that we should probably get some sleep, since we actually had to work the next day. With my alcohol-soaked balls-of-steel, I took a pen and a "Pump Room" bar napkin and approached him. "Mr. Entwhistle?" I said. He looked at me with a bemused expression. "Yes?" he said. "I would like to thank you for the great music you and your band have put out over the years, and it's a pleasure to meet you. Could I please get your autograph?" I proferred him the pen and bar-nap. He took them, signed his name, and returned them to me. "Thank you very much," I said. "Quite alright," he replied. With that, my co-worker and I returned to our rooms, and passed out.
The Who was supposed to play here (LA) in 2 days. It is a great loss to the fans of the band in particular, and to Rock and Roll in general. Mr. Entwhistle was a class act. Thanks for the memories.
-Sy
Our great computers fill the hallowed halls
Majored in recreational pharmacology, did you?
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