Prince could do it all. Play everything. And he could dance to boot. In heels. The night he died there was nothing on my Facebook or Twitter feed but posts about him. We all expressed our sorrow in our own way.
Scott Weiland fans watched with bated breath, hoping the 58th Grammys would show some appreciation for the late rock star, singer/songwriter, and frontman of two of rock and roll's most successful bands of the '90s and turn of the century.
Ken Ehrlich called the tribute "so touching and so emotional."
"She deserves more than [to be a part of] a minute-and-a-half tribute."
The 65-year-old died on Dec. 31.
I met Natalie Cole when I was about 11 or 12 years old backstage at one of her shows. My aunt brought me to the show and
Natalie Cole often told me that she liked to sing "with a smile in my voice." Not long before she died, she mentioned what she wanted her epitaph to be. She captured herself with impressive economy: "Natalie Cole: the daughter of a king, the mother of a prince, a friend to all."
When Natalie Cole scored her career-launching debut in 1975 with "This Will Be,” the No. 1 R&B and No. 6 pop hit, she found
Natalie Cole appeared many times as a guest on my PBS television program. One particular appearance, however, was exceedingly delicate and heartrending. She had just received a life-saving kidney transplant, but felt guilty to still be alive. What she had to share that day was, well, unforgettable.
Natalie Cole battled much of her life to carve out a legacy of her own, and in the end achieved her greatest success when she embraced her famous father's. That's not a loss. That's a win.
Rest in peace, Natalie.
Of the many tributes to Billie Holiday's 100th birthday today (April 7), the most compelling I've heard is Cassandra Wilson's Sony Legacy album Coming Forth By Day, a strange, atmospheric brew produced by Nick Launay (whose credits include music by Nick Cave and Arcade Fire) with shimmering string arrangements by the incomparable Van Dyke Parks.