Tributes for Gil Scott-Heron have been pouring in after his untimely death on May 27, aged 62. Artists such as Thom Yorke, Eminem, and Chuck D have all cited Scott-Heron as an influence; a testament to the diversity of his music. As if to compound this fact, a conversation with my dad, my musical opposite, revealed that we were both surprised that the other enjoyed parts of his work. It makes sense though. Scott-Heron: a self-labelled ‘bluesologist’, popularly known as the ‘godfather of rap’, created timeless pieces which documented his artistic pains, social injustice and racial bigotry over a period of 40 years. Sampling of Scott is still extensive, appearing on Common’s track ‘The People’ and his I’m New Here LP, completely remixed by Jamie XX.
Social networks were overloaded with epitaths dedicated to Scott-Heron after he passed away, surprising considering he did the vast bulk of his recording before our generation was conceived. Between the postings of songs, there is a myriad of claims about his achievements: “You invented rap maaaan,” drawled one status dedication. Scott-Heron did bridge the gap between beat poetry and rap by juxtaposing words with music, influencing rappers such as Chuck D from Public Enemy, and this will forever plant him amongst the roots of rap.
Moreover Scott-Heron epitomized the true afflicted artist and genius. Problems with drug addiction plagued his life, resulting in jail stints and what close friends would call two Scott-Herons: the one before, and the other after crack-cocaine.
Although Scott-Heron has only released two albums since 1982, he was always in the process of recording, writing and playing music. 13 albums between 1970 and 1982 testify to his potential for greatness, as well as reams of poetry, novels, live performances and possibly two recordings of the most cited creed: ‘The Revolution will not be Televised’.
However he has been perceived, though, he will always be cool. You can’t help but feel that his music was more well-known than it was when he is so often referred to as the ‘godfather of rap’, but that is what is so compelling about him. His idiosyncratic husky voice transforms who he was into who we want him to be. Though the Scott-Heron that my dad knew and the one I knew may be different, it does not mean either of our understandings will be more revealing. His close associates, of which there were few, and his words and music, of which there are many, paint the picture of this talented and tortured soul.