Not a lot of fanfare surrounded the death of Howard Tate (a couple of obits here and here).
In a sad, sadly typical way, this is appropriate, since there was not a lot of fanfare surrounding him while he lived.
This is a terrible shame for many reasons, the most important being he may be the best singer you’ve never heard.
Check it:
You may recognize that one. It was subsequently covered by the effulgent Janis Joplin (on the last album she made before her unspeakably early death). Her just-about sublime version is here.
This was a positive turn of events, at the time, for the mostly unknown Howard Tate. The dude just could never catch a break. Joplin’s cover gave him the opportunity he needed but…it just never happened. Bad timing, bitterness and frustration followed, and a man who should have dominated the decade ended up homeless, addicted to crack. Stop me if you’ve heard this one before.
Fortunately, he found religion and got his act together. The Lord works in mysterious ways.
Better still, he was able to record and perform. It’s nice to think he received a modicum of the respect and appreciation that should have been accorded to him back when it would have mattered a lot more. But he did not die unknown, and he did not end up dead in the streets. So that’s something.
You can –and you should– grab hold of some history (for under $10) here and here (his song “Where Did My Baby Go”, which unfortunately is not available on YouTube, is worth the price of admission: Howard Tate sings the SHIT out of that joint and it’s a travesty that this did not go straight to number one and make him wealthy and well-known. The Lord works in mysterious ways).
I’ll resist the urge to note how untalented ass-clowns are getting record deals and reality TV shows, because it has always been thus. It’s still thus, only more so. And while that makes it harder than it normally would be to swallow the karmic injustice of a man like Howard Tate not breaking through when he might have, it is what it is. Besides, now is not the time to lament or complain: it’s time, as always, to celebrate what we did get, and what we’ll always have.
The music, of course, lives on (stop me if you’ve heard this one before).
