Mad Dogs and Englishmen

Other than his iconic performance at Woodstock, mesmerizingly captured on film, I cannot think of Joe Cocker without placing myself in my college dorm in the fall of 1970, listening over and over again to my vinyl copy of Mad Dogs & Englishmen.  Even without video to watch his unique delivery, his voice and his mastery of what it means to sing the blues compelled me to ignore the rest of my vinyl collection in favor of being serenaded by Joe Cocker, every day and every night.  I may have ignored my textbooks as well.

Joe Cocker died today, so the airwaves, newsfeeds, and memory banks are full of all things J.C.  And I can't think of a better way to spend this second day of winter as we begin waiting patiently for the sunsets to come later.  Joe is summertime, immortalized by the summer sweat shaking off his unruly mane on the stage at Max Yasgur's farm.  I visited Bethel Woods recently, taking out-of-town guests to my favorite museum there.  As part of the museum visit, one watches an excellent film of the festival, and Joe is one of the featured performers in that film.  His performance is captivating, from his pigeon-toed stance to his arched back to his flittering fingertips to his odd little tongue thrust.  He personified the word passion.  And in his own unique way.

Pop performers are gimmicky these days, whether it's in their choice of costumes, their odd make-up and hairstyles, or their sexy dance moves (see twerking).  But Joe Cocker was the real thing.  The music informed his body language, a natural expression of what he was feeling when he sang.  The song and the movement became one and the same.  The proof of that is in the fact that you can listen to him sing without watching him perform and still feel the performance.  And in 1970, when there was no youtube, no music video library, no way to watch a performance other than a rare performance on The Ed Sullivan Show, we knew this was true.

Don't rest in peace, Joe.  Perform for the angels like it's 1969.  And if you need a back-up band, I'm sure you can get by with a little help from your friends.