Well, Alex Chilton died, fer Pete's sake. Seems that Big Star was the band that influenced every band I've been involved with, ever.

Bob Lefsetz' thoughts really resonate with me:

And that’s why Big Star is so important. The band expressed emotions, both musically and lyrically, that squared exactly with ours.

This made it tough for radio. Radio plays to a theoretical everyman. And Big Star was personal.

But that’s why Big Star lives on. You may not recall who scored the winning goal at the basketball game, but you can never forget with whom you shared your first kiss.

And then, this:

We have a fantasy that our heroes live on a higher plane, live a better life than us…that they’re surrounded by bucks and babes.

But watching Alex Chilton perform you were struck that his life was much more difficult than yours. He had to go from town to town, playing to appreciative, but tiny audiences, who loved him, but that love won’t keep you warm at night, it won’t pay your bills, it won’t pay your health insurance.

My internist told me heart attacks are preventable. If you get treatment. Change your diet, take the appropriate drugs, get monitored.

But I doubt that Alex Chilton had the cash, never mind the wherewithal.

And now he’s gone.

Never to be forgotten by a small coterie of fans.

Is that enough?

I don’t know.

Vic Chesnutt, Mark Linkous, now Alex. It's a sad year for songwriters thus far.