The souls who stir some artists to create are not necessarily memorable. But when a musician celebrates a hero or loved one who is also a celebrity? That’ll zhuzh things up. When one luminary pays homage to another, they have our attention.
Here’s a starter list of legends honoring legends. Each track preserves a star in rock ‘n roll amber and makes for great listening.
The Who’s “Pictures of Lily” (1967)
A unique track from The Who’s 1967 album Meaty, Beaty, Big and Bouncy, “Pictures of Lily” realized Pete Townshend’s goal to write a song about masturbation without alluding to it directly. (Pete seemed fond of the concept; the track “Mary Anne with the Shaky Hand” appeared in The Who Sell Out.)
“Pictures of Lily” is an ode to English stage actress Lillie Langtry (1853-1929). The teenage narrator has insomnia; his dad furnishes him with pictures of Langtry, revered for her fine face and form, and the first celebrity to pose for a print ad. The teen’s sleep issues vanish, but he falls in love with the photograph. He’s heartbroken when his father tells him that the object of his affection has been dead since 1929.
“Pictures of Lily” kicks up the prurience with an orgasmic French horn wail by bassist John Entwistle.
Carly Simon’s “You’re So Vain” (1972)
Okay, he’s not specifically named in this revered single (from Simon’s 1972 No Secrets), but this tune about a narcissistic heartbreaker has long been believed to be about one-time womanizer Warren Beatty. Simon remained coy for decades (occasionally giving a partial nod to the possibility by saying, “If the shoe fits…”). She came clean in her 2015 memoir Boys in the Trees, acknowledging that the second stanza (“You had me several years ago/when I was still quite naive/When you said that we made such a pretty pair/And that you would never leave/But you gave away the things you loved/and one of them was me.”) was, indeed, about Beatty.
Elton John’s “Candle in the Wind” (1973)
Elton John’s homage to Marilyn Monroe owes its long life to his vocals and to lyricist Bernie Taupin’s lifting of the phrase “candle in the wind,” which he heard Clive Davis use about Janis Joplin. Repurposing it for the troubled goddess (who had died 11 years prior) was the perfect metaphor for a life snuffed out too soon.
The ballad opens using Monroe’s birth name, Norma Jean, and provides autobiographical details of her rise, fall, and disrespectful treatment by the press. John concludes with the mournful lines: “I would have liked to have known you/but I was just a kid/your candle burned out long before/your legend ever did.” He rejiggered the song to honor his friend Princess Diana in 1997 and also dedicated it to his friend Ryan White, who died of AIDS in 1990.
Nick Lowe’s “Marie Provost” (1978)
Nick Lowe has longstanding cult cred for his crystalline musicianship mixed with subversive sensibilities. Nowhere is it better displayed than in his ode to silent film star Marie Prevost from the LP Jesus of Cool (called Pure Pop for Now People in America). Prevost was a lovely, doomed actress whose lack of long-term Hollywood success, mixed with her addictions and anorexia, led to a lonely death in 1937 at the age of 40, with only her dog as witness. Lowe lays out the tragic scenario with the startling chorus, “She was a winner/that became her doggie’s dinner.”
The grotesque imagery refers to the widely held (but inaccurate) belief that Prevost was partially eaten by her dachshund. Hollywood Babylon author Kenneth Anger alluded to this detail in his book. Lowe is obviously conjuring up Prevost, but takes considerable license with her specifics. He calls her a New Yorker (she was Canadian) and claims her death took place in July (it was January). He misspells her name and maintains Anger’s whopper about being consumed by her dog (the pup nicked her a few times trying to wake his mistress, but she was found intact). “Marie Provost” remains an oddball classic that resurrects a near-forgotten star.
The Clash’s “The Right Profile” (1979)
The Clash’s London Calling contains a paean to Montgomery Clift. He was a stunning character actor (From Here to Eternity, A Place in the Sun, Freud), whose addictions and a 1956 car crash sent him on a downward spiral until he died in 1966. His sad demise has been referred to as “the slowest suicide in cinema history.”
Lead singer Joe Strummer took producer Guy Stevens’ suggestion to read Clift’s bio and honor him in song. “The Right Profile” mixes intellectual punk, old-school swing, bright brass, and bad-ass lyrics that serve up the poor man’s plight, both in his life and the public eye.
The title references the near-deadly crash that mangled Clift’s face and jaw. He continued to make movies, but cameramen were instructed to shoot his profile from the right. The Clash knocked it out of the proverbial park with this darkly humorous track, bringing the ill-fated Clift back into public awareness.
-Ellen Fagan
Photo: The Who (Getty Images)
