Yeah – we all know by now. I will admit to being one of those who had heard of Chilton, but really didn’t know the music until the Replacements sang about him. By that time, all Big Star and Chilton records were out of print and CDs re-releases were in their infancy. But the “need to know” and possibly a stray record review made me pick up my first Big Star album – “Third” or “Sister Lovers”. It had recently been reprinted (1985) on the old PVC label. This album nailed me right between the eyes. It was neither a pop album or a rock album or a singer/songwriter album. “Sister Lovers” was more of an open vein and a wry grin. A great sense of loss spilled out of every song on this record. For me, this album joined a small club of other personal statements of sorrow in the “rock era” – an august group that includes Lou Reed’s Berlin, Neil Young’s Tonight’s The Night and Harry Nilsson’s Pussycats. Not what you’d call party records is what I’m trying to say. But it meant a lot to me and still does.

My least favorite Chilton memory was seeing him live at the Fast Lanes in Asbury Park. This was early 90’s (92? 93? – I can’t remember). The band was solid and he played mostly covers, but occasionally an old Big Star song would make an appearance. The problem was he kept complaining. Not about the band or the audience or the sound or anything else you expect a “rock star” to bitch about. He was mad at himself. Complained about his singing; apologized for his bad guitar playing; accused himself of being a horrible songwriter! He simply refused to enjoy himself as much as we were enjoying the music! It was annoying.

And that – after all – is the story of Chilton’s life. His music is alternately sweet and annoying. He hated the trappings of stardom and was pissed that he was never a star… which he would have hated. So he dies while mowing the lawn the night before a big concert in front of a whole bunch of new fans. Strangely fitting… and sad.

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