The Scarlet and Black, April 16, 1976—1). 7

_miscellaneous—

3
3

in memorial
Ochs took parts of us

by Gordon Edclstcin
,Ehil Dchs committed suicide last
‘ek. i wish i could say that Ihad
no idea why. All oi us who grew up
listening to his political
proclamations saw his slow
deterioration. I don’t know how to
feel. You had to see it coming I
saw him two years ago at some
place in New York, Max's Kansas
City or The Bottom Line or
something He looked so terrible
Thin and pale and so unhappy He
teddn t even keep his hand steady
to play a song straight through. He
said "Here's a song I wrote in the
'50s when people still cared about
t 5" And then he played ”l
't a Marchin' Anymore.” He
was too tired even to be angry. The
man had gone mad. He looked like
“an old wllore following a tired
‘ " He polished oil a fifth of
oak Daniels during the concert.
Near what would have probably
been the end at the concert, he
played “Rehearsals for
Retirement.” Right before the last
verse. he collapsed onto the piano,
knocking over and breaking the
bottle of bourbon, and his face
smashed onto the piano keys. They
hadto carry him off. It was the late
show. He wanted to be Dylan and
jag didn’t have the genius. Phil
0 started out as a liberal,
ed into a revolutionary and
then, when he realized the
ridiculousness of the revolution. he
sarched for something, anything.
Wound nothing and began to
esti-oy himseii. Ochs just couldn’t
find himseli a new place. Dylan
could but he Couldn’t. He gave
himsella slow death. Is this Where
the revolution has gone? Abbie
Hoffman is hiding from a cocaine
bust and Jerry Rubin is doing
commercials Phil Ochs could
never sink into the pleasures ot the
harbor. When Phil Ochs came to
Carnegie Hall in his Elvis Presley
suit, we booed him otistage. He
n‘t handle protest, he couldn’t
even handle lyrics, so he tried out
Buddy Holly and Elvis Presley. He
ing out a childhood fantasy,
But we didn’t let him. He
couldn’t do it. Nothing. We
wouldn’t let him do anything. And
he could ﬁnd nothing left to believe
i I ran into somebody who ran
iii i him in a bar in New York. He

étAssts
Made iind Repaired
i, In Our' laboratory

Contact Lenses

Eyes Examined
’ Phone 236-1501

sEJ. Jensen, 0.0.

OPTOM E'I'RIS‘I’

‘gAcross from Post Office
losed Thursday is r_n
, and Sat ‘

was neurotically dashing in and out
at the bar talking a mile a minute.
crazed. picking up cigarette butts
off the street and smoking them.
He was driving his van on the
streets, seeing if he could
sideswipe Cadillacs off the mad.
Searching New York City all night
For Cadillacs He started off saying
that he wasn’t marching anymore,
No more sacrificing the young,
“It’s always the old to lead us to
the wars, always the young to fall,
Look at all We‘ve won with a sabre
and a gun, tell me, is it worth it
all." He ended up with psychotic
songs like “The Scorpion Departs
But Never Returns.” Images oi
Iboats sailing across kitchen floors.
We killed him and he killed himr
Sell. God help the troubador who
llries to be a star. He wrote his own
teulugy on the liner notes of his 1959
album “Rehearsals for
Retirement”? (the cover of which
shows a tombstone, bearing the
inscription Phil Ochs (American)
Born: El Paso. Texas 1940; Died:

Chicago, Illinois 1968):

This then is ‘the death of the
American

imprisoned by his paranoia

and all the disguises of his his
nocent inventions

he plunges to the drugs oi the
devil to find his gods

he employs the lance oi force to
crush his fantaSles

he calls conventions of salesman
and savages

to reintorcc his hopelessness

our deepest and most religious
moments

were on elevators posing as
planes . .

While 1 stumble through this
paradise

considering several suicides . , .
and finally turn away irom

this comic civilization

my responsibilities are done let
them come let them Come . , .
A part or many oi us died with you,
Phil Ochs Let no one say that
what you did was wrong.

‘ Nothing like A Pleasant Walk Down To The
Bakery AI 2 AM. On A Warm Spring Night!

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