Communards • For A Friend

To mark World AIDS Day, I thought I would bring back a favorite of mine from twenty-five years ago. In 1987, The Communards released their second and final studio album, 'Red'. Their music was beautiful and a bit exotic, using world influences in distinct yet subtle ways. The sound was in part made recognizable by the voice of Jimmy Somerville, the voice of the Bronski Beat before. He was joined by the very talented Richard Coles, a fantastic musician. The duo wrote a some amazing stuff together, including a song that is dedicated to those battling AIDS, as well as those who had lost that fight. AIDS was the big issue of the 1980s, yet for the first 8 years, American President Ronald Reagan never mentioned the word AIDS nor the health issue taking countless lives in the country, instead fighting a 'War on Drugs' what showed little evidence of working outside of the rhetoric of those pushing it. The President and his administration remained silent, nearly 21,000 people died of AIDS-related illnesses. Finally, just months from the end of his two terms in office, he spoke at the Third International Conference on AIDS in Washington. That was far later than a President would have spoken had the disease affected a group of people other than gay men and drug users.

The song appeared on the album 'Red', which also included the Dance hits "Never Can Say Goodbye" and "Tommorrow". Both those songs made it to #2 on the Billboard Hot Dance Club Songs. But this song was very different, a soulful and dark ballad looking to remember those whose lives were touched by AIDS. It has the quality of a elegy, a classic Greek word meaning a lament. There is a mournful quality, yet the song still has a beauty and simplicity that is hard to match. And Jimmy's vocal is just perfection.

You can purchase 'Red' on iTunes and Amazon. You can purchase 'The Very Best of Jimmy Somerville, Bronski Beat, and the Communards' on iTunes and Amazon. After this album, the Communards broke up, and Jimmy went on to a solo career, while Richard pursued a career in the clergy. For more about Jimmy Somerville, visit his official website or 'like' him on Facebook. To catch up with Richard Coles, you can 'follow' him on Twitter.

World AIDS Day • Read My Lips

I remember reading the New York Native when I first moved to New York City, and they were discussing the "gay plague" that was hitting the community in America. Soon it would have a name, of sorts. AIDS. And it would start taking friends of mine. Derry. Terry. Roseanne. Kevin. Such beautiful, vivacious, and joyous souls. All taken from me, from the world, far too soon. The 1980s passed by us, and soon we were angry. President Ronald Reagan had gone through two terms in office and never addressed or even mentioned the term AIDS. So many more died. Groups like ACT UP started meeting, bringing discussions about AIDS to the forefront with in-your-face tactics, demonstrations and graphics. Keith Haring, and brilliant artist who was HIV+, created an iconic work.



By 1989, we were singing with Jimmy Somerville that indeed, we had had enough of inaction. The health and welfare of myself, my friends, and loved one's was being ignored for long enough. The year after President George H. W. Bush said it about taxes, Somerville reclaimed the phrase when explaining the LGBT community was mad as hell, and not gonna take it anymore. Read My Lips.



Hard to believe that was over 20 years ago. And that today we still are fighting this pandemic in the world. But I did know I would be missing those friends and so many others.

Remembering Freddie Mercury

Farrokh Bulsara remains a name is music that stands for extravagance, excess and excellence. Just like his rock personae, Freddie Mercury. His performance style was over-the-top, bold and imaginative, all back up nicely by that incredible voice. That voice had both power and nuance, enabling him to rock out with the best of them, as well as sing a heart-breaking ballad. Perhaps the most heartrending fact about his career is that he left us far too soon when he died November 24, 1991, due to complications from AIDS. So it seemed only fitting to me to remember him on World AIDS Day.



As lead singer for the band Queen, with bandmates Brian May, John Deacon, and Roger Taylor, ruled the airwaves, putting out 14 studio albums, 13 of which reached gold or platinum status in the US, and all 14 making the status in the UK. From the release of their eponymous debut in 1973 to the final recording including Mercury released posthumously in 1995, they had countless hits, from the rock to the pop charts. The live shows were huge and flamboyant, with Mercury showing up wearing anything from running shorts to the Union Jack to a crown and cape. People flocked to see the shows, to hear the theatrical music and see the brilliant lead singer.



On November 23rd, 1991, Mercury officially announced he was HIV positive, after a few years of rumors and speculation. The next day, he was discovered in his home, dead. All the talk of his health and sexuality became irrelevant, as his amazing talent was lost to the world. But not before leaving a great catalog, a tremendous legacy to the world of music. To remember his on this World AIDS Day, I thought I'd post just a few of my favorite Queen videos.

In 1984, Queen had a huge hit with I Want To Break Free. It was a beautiful song, and the video quite playful, with the boys of the group donning drag to sing about being free.




Who Wants To Live Forever was written by Brian May for the soundtrack to the movie Highlander and released in 1986. It is a gorgous and lush ballad, one of my favorite Queen songs of all-time. The video is just as beautiful.



In 1985, Queen were one of the headliners for the musical milestone Live Aid, performing at Wembley Stadium in London, England. Organizer Bob Geldof and fellow artist Elton John believed their performance stole the show. Dressed in jeans and a wife-beater, Freddie proved he never needed spectacle to stop the show. Here they are from Live Aid singing We Will Rock You/We Are The Campions.



No review of Freddie's work would be complete without the inclusion of Bohemian Rhapsody, the trademark hit for Queen in 1975. It had all the elements of classic Queen; rock, big hair, operatic theatricality, and Freddie's amazing voice and performance. It was #1 worldwide, but somehow only made it to #9 on the US Pop Chart. But it remains today, 35 years later, a major influence on pop culture. From Wayne's World to American Idol, the song continues to shine bright and strong.



Rest well, Farrokh. You are most certainly remembered.

World AIDS Day - Neneh Cherry

I've Got You Under My Skin was written in 1936 for the MGM musical Born To Dance. Frank Sinatra had a hit with his version, as did the Four Seasons, better known today from Broadway's Jersey Boys. On the album, it was performed by the incredible Neneh Cherry, who retitled it Under My Skin. I loved her take on it, which was very new and fresh [at the time], and oh-so-appropriate for the song.

World AIDS Day - Annie Lennox

Annie Lennox has a voice so expressive, so amazing, there seems to be to be little that I can say, other than to crank up the volume and give a listen to her version of Ev'rytime We Say Goodbye.

A Day of Remembrance

Every year, December 1st is World AIDS day, focusing the attentions of the world to the pandemic that has still exists worldwide. It is also a time to remember those that have been lost to the disease. It is something I do more than once a year, I can tell you that. There were many friends that have been affected.

Last year, I spoke of the time I went to see the Names Project Quilt, and the effect it had on me. You can see it here. This year, I would like to do something different, more simple. As I remember my friends, I will listen to The Communards, with lead singer Jimmy Somerville, as they perform the gorgeous song For A Friend.



Remember.

World AIDS Day

Not long ago I spoke of going to a March On Washington and the Names Project display of the Quilt, and how it moved me so. It was a time I was living and working in NYC, the late 80s. I also had a fairly active social life, attending events at the LGBT Center, marching in Pride Parades, and hanging out with friends since breaking up with Bill in '86 after six years together. I dated some, but preferred to spend time with friends, be it my sister visiting, my str8 friends I worked with, or my lesbian friends I spent most of my time with. It is my lesbians who introduced me to Michael, who I was with for about 6 wonderful months. But otherwise, there were some dates, but mostly friends. Due to the time, many of those friends were HIV positive.



One of those was Kevin, a beautiful man with long curly hair. I had quite the crush on him, and wanted to date him, but he was more interested in a friendship, which I gladly accepted. He was an artist who often went to open mike nights at midtown clubs and sang, which me and other friends attended. When he sang Where Do I Start, I was moved to tears. So when I received the phone call from my friend Lizz that Kevin was in the hospital, and we should make plans to visit him soon, I was game for it. When I got the next phone call, I was blown away. Kevin passed away before Lizz and I made it to see him. I was devastated.

One of my lesbians was Roseanne, who was short in stature but tall in personality. She was always great for a hug and a kind or funny word when you needed it. I didn't know at first, but soon after spending some time with her and other friends, noticed she took a lot of medication. She had dsicovered she was HIV positive early on, and was taking very good care of herself. Many of us had thought the lesbians were the one group immune from the disease, but earlier in her life Roseanne had an addiction issue, and it seems shared needles were her downfall. She had invited me, Lizz and a few other friends to visit her family in Florida, so we went on a little vacation, also visiting Lizz's parents in Boca, and making a quick weekend trip to the Bahamas. It was a wonderful time. The only issue was Roseanne's father was not impressed the only guy on the trip had long hair, and complained to Roseanne about it.



Shortly after returning to NYC, Roseanne decided to return home to her family, who were so welcoming to her and her friends, my hair excepted. We missed her when we we out for dinner or to the movies, but she kept in touch. But within a year, her health started to slip, and soon we learned she had passed. Her family handled the arrangements, and we weren't able to make it down for the funeral, but we held our own memorial in Lizz's apartment. We tried to stay positive, talking about her warmth, her humor, and what a great friend she was. We wanted to celebrate her life, not mourn it.

Another was someone I worked with, Derry. He was from the Midwest, but had made his way to NYC like many of us, to be free to be ourselves, gay men. He worked as a receptionist with the multimedia company I worked for, and he had a delicious deep voice and most delightful sense of humor. We often had lunch together, giggling about something or another. Derry often flirted with me, but really, I enjoyed his friendship and it was important to me, so nothing ever went on. He soon found someone else, a soulmate. I was delighted for him. They moved in together, and seemed incredibly happy. One Monday Derry didn't show up for work, and I got a phone call. His lover went in the hospital over the weekend, and was very sick, so he wouldn't be at work. I asked him what was going on, and he told me they were both HIV positive, and his boyfriend had been sick with a cold and it turned to pneumonia. Derry sounded so tired. Late in the day I got another call, and Derry was crying. His lover had passed away, just 72 hours after being admitted. He had waited too long to get medical help, and went downhill quickly. Derry was devastated, and blamed himself. I tried to comfort Derry on the phone, while crying myself. I and many other friends helped Derry with the funeral arrangements, and while he often tried to brighten up, you could tell he was in a downward spiral with his mood.



The funeral went well, but it was a time I was going to far too many. The 80s were a tough time for the LGBT community, especially in NYC. AIDS was still new, known about for less than a decade, and many HIV positive people were not seeking the help because of shame and fear. Hell, those that did seek help were more like lab rats, offered drugs as tests because the doctors weren't sure what to do. AIDS and HIV were thought to be a death sentence. Derry was in a doctor's care, but never seemed to come out of his depression. Soon he told me he would be returning home to the Midwest, to be with family. When he moved to NYC, he had come out to them and he told me they weren't receptive, practically cutting off communication. So I was surprised to hear about his move. He said he wanted to be with family, and his had been great since learning about his lover's passing. I had heard from Derry a couple of times after he moved, but we soon lost touch.



When I went to see the Names Project for the first time, it was impressive and moving. You looked across a vast field of fabric, a sewn cemetery of sorts. I was moved by the initial sight of it, and found myself wandering around it, reading names and dates, seeing parts of each person sewn into each panel. Then I saw it. It was a panel with a familiar name. Derry. I hadn't known he had died, and the family never let any of his NYC friends know. It took my breath away, and then I felt the tears falling down my cheek. A monitor, a person there for support found everywhere around the quilt, came up and asked if I was alright. I couldn't speak, and tried to shake my head to acknowledge I was fine, but the person came up and placed a hand on my shoulder, and was soon giving me a hug, holding me as I cried. I was very grateful for the comfort.

So for Kevin and Derry, for Roseanne, and for many others I knew so well at the time, I remember you today. Hell, I remember you all the time. And miss you.