I hate it when rock stars die. Most of the time, it's not because they're gone, but more because of what happens in the world. It's sad to watch society clamor over their body of work. Everyone quickly becomes biggest fan of said rock star and has new copies of records that they never listened to before, along with a new t-shirt or bumper sticker to advertise their dedication and appreciation for the recently deceased. I could go on and on with examples. Instead, I've narrowed it down to three.
When Johnny Cash died, the thing to do was to get a nice, brand new black shirt with his name on it, or the one with him flipping the camera off and wear it everywhere you went. Surely, the majority of people sporting those shirts had never listened to much Cash, perhaps just "I Walk The Line" or "Burning Ring of Fire". Suddenly though, they're all experts and HUGE fans...and so very sad that he's gone.
A similar phenomenon is told through record sales. Recently, Michael Jackson's life was snubbed out. His record sales immediately soared in the U.S. People were scrambling to get themselves a copy of Thriller or Bad wherever possible. I tracked some sales on eBay. Bidders were paying hundreds of dollars for a vinyl copy of Thriller. In some cases, the record was even advertised as being in poor condition, yet people were paying obscene amounts of money for the record. Retail businesses are not exempt to this pitiful "death tax". About a week after Jackson died, I was at Half Price Books up on Capitol Hill. I surprisingly found a Jacksons LP and bought it for a friend. The price tag was $3.99. When I was checking out, the clerk behind the counter said "Oh, my...we missed one!" When I asked her what she was talking about, she explained to me that after he died, they rummaged through all of their used vinyl, pulled all of the albums he made, marked them up by $5-$15 and put them on the counter for customers to find them easier. Blasphemy. Capitalizing on the death of a rock star is an atrocious thing. It makes me sick.
There's another occurrence that I encounter from time to time. The easiest way to explain it is: twelve year old kids in RIP Kurt Cobain t-shirts. I've seen them around and overheard conversations amongst themselves about how they celebrate his birthday and cry on the anniversary of his death. I usually have to fight the urge to scream: "WHAT?!?!? You weren't even BORN when he died!" Now, I understand feeling remorse for the death of someone, especially if they were an influence on your life, but not to that degree.
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