Within the space of 24 hours, I un-consciously watched three music documentaries. After the sheer brilliance of '20 Feet From Stardom', I was quite content to never see another biopic again (it was that good), but I’m glad I ventured back into the world of music documentaries. My weekend trilogy started with 'Amy' by film maker Asif Kapadia, then 'Searching For Sugar Man' by Malik Bendjelloul, and culminated in 'Cobain: Montage Of Heck' by Brett Morgen.
Since then, I've been trying, but ultimately failing, to find some deep philosophical common thread between all three documentaries. Essentially, Searching For Sugar Man made this impossible. Amy & Cobain are obviously similar, exceptional talent catapulted into global stardom from a young age, and a shared disdain for fame and paparazzi. Both Winehouse and Cobain carried demons from their childhoods and were known for drug and alcohol abuse. Ultimately, both Amy and Kurt tragically joined the infamous mausoleum of 27 year olds. Their untold stories revealed in home video footage and testimonial tears of close friends and family packed a punch. And the tragedy of hindsight left a residue of weightiness for the viewers. Even though like Titanic, you knew what was coming, the loss of life is unbearably sad, leaving you asking 'what if'?
Searching For Sugar Man was similarly sad initially, but had an important silver lining. Now, as an immediate disclaimer, please stop reading this if you haven't seen Searching For Sugar Man, and you think you might want too. I highly recommend watching it!
So to those of you who are still with me, you'll know that Rodriguez (comparable to Bob Dylan's song writing, but not his voice) was similarly talented, carried huge potential, and could have been a popular musical heavyweight like Amy and Kurt. Unfortunately though, after recording two albums, his acclaim barely expanded beyond Detroit's borders, and subsequently Rodriguez was dropped from his label at a young age. Around this time, his music stumbled into South Africa, and was embraced wholeheartedly. His music, specifically his album 'Cold Fact', was the soundtrack in many South African households in the 70's and 80's. This album also inspired and liberated people, especially artists, to speak freely and boldly during the apartheid. After generations worth of speculation and Chinese whispering, it was rumoured Rodriguez had committed suicide, naturally so, after no new albums or tour dates were ever released. More than twenty years after Cold Fact found its way into SA, two passionate fans decided to collectively answer the question; how did Rodriguez die? In the film, the duos enthusiasm is infectious; you too are just as intrigued and perplexed by the mysteriousness of Rodriguez.
Eventually, Rodriguez’s face appears as a missing person on a cyber space milk carton, an effort the pair hope will yield some Cold Facts *dry*. This ultimately results in a pivotal trice; Rodriguez is still alive! And in this moment, the three stories briefly correlate for me, as I’m left asking questions that start with a double ewe.
In this case, what if Rodriguez, his producers, or his label, knew of his success? What if America had embraced him? What if he had known he was famous? What if he had a chance to create more music? What would have happened if he had never found out? Where did all the money go? Why did his music take off in SA, but not in the USA?
Regardless of the years of missed revenue, greater influence and global acknowledgment, I found Rodriguez to be just as impressive without fame, as he would have been with it. I think he is arguably one of the most authentic examples of unbridled tenacity of the human spirit. Nobody wants a short-shelf-life kind of career, and when dropped from his label, I'm sure there would have been a huge sense of loss and disappointment. But Rodriguez essentially said 'sa la vie', earned a humble living as a manual labourer, raised three daughters, and even had a go at running for mayor. Made lemonade by way of understanding that life is fickle, unpredictable and often unfair. He refused to carry disillusionment and bitterness when the temptation too would have been palpable. Success isn't just a life lived under bright lights , a wad of hundies (hundred dollar bills), and millions of eyes on you. The unheralded types of success, like great parenthood, providing for your family, contributing to the lives of those around you, cultivating community and extending hospitality, are just as influential as fame. Be it a million eyes, or a few eyes, your legacy is yours to create, and will endure.
As a musician, I'm encouraged that Rodriguez eventually learnt of the scope of his influence as a poet, musician and songwriter. Knowing that my story may not have a simple trajectory that I often hope it will. Praise be for the people of South Africa and their taste in music, who weren't determined by culture or swayed by majority. I'm encouraged that good music germinates, regardless of marketing, infrastructure, hype and a million dollar budget. I'm thankful that his story didn't end in Americas rejection, but that Rodriguez found contentment in spite of dashed dreams, and lived a life of influence though living out Plan B . His silver lining encourages all people, creative or not, who are living with unrealised dreams, to continue hoping, but to seek fulfilment in the mean time.
This story inspires me to hope that if what I produce is good enough, it might make it into the homes, hearts, and hands of people that need it most. And that those same people, might track me down if they think I'm dead. I will continue to be persistent in what I hope for, but content in the meantime, and if I find fame at 65, that’s fine by me.