On Christmas day 2009 another great songwriter died. A man very close to my heart. A man who sculpted the way I write songs, after he gave me a copy of his album, Is the Actor Happy as payment for a support slot at a club in Portsmouth, England in 1995. That man's name was Vic Chesnutt. A name not ceremonious with world wide acclaim or stardom. The very opposite. He wrote the songs that others emulated. Artists such as REM, Smashing Pumpkins, Madonna even.
Vic was a true poet and song-smith of the highest order. To say that his songs were morose, maudlin and down beat would be a considerable under statement. That was the man's gift. Writing songs about the dark ironic comedic side of life. Often served with a healthy dose of impending doom.
His untimely death leaves a cavernous void in the world of song writing.
Vic leaves us a legacy (give or take a few side projects) of 15 studio albums spanning a 19 career.
Douglas E Powell
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