January 12, 2021, by Tosh Berman

 

January 12, 2021

Today is Big Star's Chris Bell's birthday. He died at 27, and if alive, he would be 70. When you listen to his recordings, he sounds like a young man who died at 27. By his music, I can't think of him being at 70. His despair feels very young, in that one's emotions are at a peak, and the world is either opening up or closing on you. "Should believe in Jesus, it can do you no harm," from the song "Better Save Yourself," which I think is not really a song to someone, but for himself. It's a sad song, but then again, all of Chris Bell's songs are tragic sounding. Wishful, and with no poison in his soul, he stands the opposite of his one-time bandmate, co-songwriter Alex Chilton.

Similarly, as Lennon (Chilton) and Paul (Chris), the tension between the two artists gives the music and lyrics a pull/push. One can say the same for Brian Jones (non-writer, but iconic in that band) against the Jagger/Richards world. The relationships don't last forever. One tends to overshadow the other, but still, a fascinating relationship within the band's makeup.  

When I close my eyes, I like to imagine that Chris and Alex's portrait as an oil painting by John Singer Sargent. He was a master in capturing the aristocrat personality. There is something very class orientated about the two members of Big Star. Alex, having the experience of being a teenage pop star/musician and coming from bohemian family background, then Chris Bell, who worked in his Dad's restaurant. While watching the documentary, I can sense the difference in their approach to life. Chilton looks fearless, and there are some hesitant overtures from Bell.  I can't express it precisely; this is all that I see in photographs and hearing their music.  I sense a built-up tension in Bell's music. At least on his solo album, his spirituality is not enlightenment but from some form of mental pain. 

Chris doesn't want to be alone, and Alex wants to be alone. Now, both are dead, and I guess they're both alone. At the least in the physical sense. It's that yearning for some new experience, such as love, travel, or an adventure of some sort. I think this is what I find appealing in both Alex and Chris Bell's work. Now, I'm re-discovering Chris's music, and I now understand the moments of weakness, doubt, and the ability to think 'what the hell?' I am not that far from such a world, and I will never embrace religion, but the guitars' ringing is a good exit plan.