Oontz, oontz

Getting older sorta sucks for a lot of reasons. One of the sadder reasons is that all the people who had a hand in shaping you start to keel over dead. I’ve taken to eulogizing the big players in my journals. People like Leonard Cohen get a lot of words, but I guess some of the minor players maybe deserve a space here. They’re still important in smaller ways, and deserve some remembrance.

Yeah. Good ‘ol Bob. I heard today that Robert Miles shuffled off. All the text I can find right this moment is in Spanish, so I couldn’t tell you what did him in, but damn, that’s early. He was right around my age, which is always pretty scary.

Most people probably don’t know him, but if you were ever into trance or electronica as musical genres, his work will ring a bell. To anyone else, he’s a one-hit wonder at best. I wasn’t heavily into that kind of music either, but I had friends who were.

I’ve heard it said that Bob was sort of a gateway drug into the genre, and that was certainly true for me. I moved past him pretty quick, but without him, it’s arguable I wouldn’t have found the others I love to this day. I went from Bob swiftly into the arms of bands like Enigma, Delerium and its offshoots, and Dead Can Dance, where I spent most of my time. I liked the stuff for writing. Many an undergrad paper took shape for me with these notes hanging in the air. All that’s because of Bob.

Sad that he’s gone. Sigh. Well, time to dig out my ancient copy of Dreamland and give it a spin. Avé atque valé, Bob.