On Saturday my friend Joe was djing at a pub called the west end in Sheffield and I went along. Every so often he and a few mates take over the place and play music they like, mostly funk, jazz and good hiphop. I noticed that a lot of Gil Scott Heron was being played, and that was the first that I heard he had died.
I only got into his music a few years ago after discovering some tracks on muxtape. His gravely voice, poetry and soulful way of telling stories really stood out to me. Hearing him talk in interviews you can tell that he was a man who had experienced a lot of life. I heard that on his last album "I'm new here" they kept the microphone on all the time and and many of his conversations ended up on the final record. He was poetic without trying, and there was a realness that saw through the culture of the day. He painted amazing pictures of broken situations and people he came into contact with. He was pretty broken himself too, and maybe it was all the drugs and stuff that caught up with him in the end.
I hope my voice sounds like his in 40 years, but I'm guessing as I'm a tall skinny non smoking white english guy it won't! I also hope I have a bit more hope, that when I talk of home I have something more positive to say than this.