They Shall Grow Not Old

Prince was 57 when he died, and in a way, it feels right. Had he lived, he would turn 67 this year, and it’s hard to picture him that old. It’s well nigh impossible for me to picture him really old. Late middle age was strange enough on him. Some people just don’t belong as old. We’re not talking Paul Rudd, here, who will himself turn 57 this year except for the part where he is an ageless fey being. This isn’t people who died young and you have to use your imagination to see them as older. This is just people who would have felt wrong had they gotten old.

Janis Joplin, now. She burned too bright. It’s hard to imagine her living as much life as she did and having any left at seventy. It’s hard to even imagine her having any left at forty. Jim Morrison was in many ways already old at twenty-seven; he’s another person it’s hard to picture living another twenty or thirty years, much less to be old. His body wouldn’t have held out that long, though I suppose David Crosby has managed.

I can picture John Lennon as an old man, though goodness knows I’d hope he would at some point acknowledge that he was not a great person when he was young. You can imagine him sitting on a bench in Central Park, soaking up sunlight. Buddy Holly could’ve easily lived to be an elder statesman of music. Selena still wouldn’t be old, had she not been murdered, but a Selena surviving is easy to picture. Patsy Cline? Mama Cass? Yeah. The issue isn’t that these people were all young, or anyway young to die.

But can you picture Keith Moon as an old man? Amy Winehouse also wouldn’t be old even if she’d lived—she’d have been 43 this year—but picture Amy Winehouse old. Imagine Ronnie Van Zant playing canasta. And I mean, Prince isn’t quite in their category—not least because he lived thirty years longer than Amy Winehouse—but I would similarly have a hard time picturing Michael Hutchence as getting old. They were just people who had a vibe.

There’s nothing wrong with getting old; as the joke goes, it’s better than the alternative. My cut-off for actually being old is 65, and goodness knows there are musicians—and actors, but today I’m focusing on musicians—who got there and were doing pretty well. It’s easy to picture an Elvis who got through it and got some therapy and did duets with Johnny Cash as an old man. It’s nice to picture, too. A Nat King Cole who lived to do real duets with his daughter. Freddie Mercury should absolutely still be alive. But can you imagine Sid Vicious alive today?