R.I.P.

Ex-Motörhead Drummer Phil “Philthy Animal” Taylor Passes Away
November 12th, 2015 at 11:20am Axl Rosenberg 16

Phil “Philthy Animal” Taylor, former drummer for the iconic Motörhead, has passed away at age 61 after a long battle with an unspecified ailment, Blabbermouth reports. The cause of his death at a relatively young age has either not yet been made public or is still unknown.
Guitarist “Fast” Eddie Clarke, who played with Taylor in Motörhead from 1976 to 1984, had the following to say:

“My dear friend and brother passed away last night. He had been ill for sometime but that does not make it any easier when the time finally comes.
“I have known Phil since he was 21 and he was one hell of a character. Fortunately, we made some fantastic music together and I have many many fond memories of our time together.
“Rest in peace, Phil!”

Taylor played on eleven Motörhead albums during two separate tenures with the band, the second of which ended in 1992. In layman’s terms: that means even your mom has heard Taylor’s drumming. Few musicians will ever leave a mark as indeliable.
Our thoughts are with Taylor’s family and friends during this difficult time. Be sure to crank some Taylor-era Motörhead music today in his honor.

Motörhead's official Facebook account was updated with the following message: ""Lil' Philthy...he who once shouted 'stop wincing about' on an album...he who fueled many a young boy's punk/metal hairstyles...he who played the drums with fury and intent...he who liked to call people 'wazzocks' once in a while...friend, Roman, Yorkshireman...rest in peace. With much love..."

Motörhead frontman Lemmy Kilmister has now addressed Taylor's passing in an interview with Classic Rock, telling the publication: "I'm feeling very sad at the moment, in fact devastated, because one of my best friends died yesterday. I miss him already. His name was Phil Taylor, or Philthy Animal, and he was our drummer twice in our career. Now he's died and it really pisses me off that they take somebody like him and leave George Bush alive. So muse on that... We're still going, we're still going strong, it's just first Würzel and now Philthy, it's a shame man. I think this rock 'n' roll business might be bad for the human life."

IN HONOUR OF SCOTT WEILAND
December 4, 2015
 
Having just woken to the news of this passing, I feel compelled to put pen to paper and pay my respects to Scott. And in that I will not pretend to know more than I know, or add some sad homily to how he loved his life. At least in that, may I now say he is undoubtably in the arms of grace and eternal love. 
 
May I also offer my humble condolences to his family, friends, and band mates; who have, and are, suffering this great loss. For when anyone as vaunted leaves far too soon, we mourn all that might have been. 
 
As any fan, I find myself reflecting on what I do have in my own treasure chest: in scarce moments where Scott and I spoke as contemporaries or competitors, and got to know each as people other past the footlights and shadows we were so busy casting to the world. It may seem trite in reflection, but I'd try to make him giggle when I saw that the manic whirl of the dumb parties we were at (in Hollywood, no less!) might be causing undue stress. 
 
It was, I'd guess you'd say, my way of apology for having been so critical of STP when they appeared on the scene like some crazy, man-fueled rocket. And not only was the knight up front freshly handsome to a fault, but he could sing too! As any supreme actor gives a real and different voice to each character played.
 
It was STP's 3rd album that had got me hooked, a wizardly mix of glam and post-punk, and I confessed to Scott, as well as the band many times, how wrong I'd been in assessing their native brilliance. And like Bowie can and does, it was Scott's phrasing that pushed his music into a unique, and hard to pin down, aesthetic sonicsphere. 
 
Lastly, I'd like to share a thought which though clumsy, I hope would please Scott In Hominum. And that is if you asked me who I truly believed were the great voices of our generation, I'd say it were he, Layne, and Kurt. 
 
So it goes beyond tragedy to say it is we who lost them, and not the other way round...
 
WILLIAM CORGAN

Scott Weiland's Family: 'Don't Glorify This Tragedy'

A letter from late singer’s ex-wife, Mary Weiland, on behalf of his two children

By Mary Forsberg Weiland December 7, 2015


 Scott Weiland's ex-wife has penned a candid, poignant essay on the deceased Stone Temple Pilots singer on behalf of his two children  
Mary Forsberg Weiland is the mother of the late singer Scott Weiland's teenage children, Noah, 15, and Lucy, 13. She wrote this with their help in the days after his death on Dec 3rd.

Sidebar

December 3rd, 2015 is not the day Scott Weiland died. It is the official day the public will use to mourn him, and it was the last day he could be propped up in front of a microphone for the financial benefit or enjoyment of others. The outpouring of condolences and prayers offered to our children, Noah and Lucy, has been overwhelming, appreciated and even comforting. But the truth is, like so many other kids, they lost their father years ago. What they truly lost on December 3rd was hope.
We don't want to downplay Scott's amazing talent, presence or his ability to light up any stage with brilliant electricity. So many people have been gracious enough to praise his gift. The music is here to stay. But at some point, someone needs to step up and point out that yes, this will happen again – because as a society we almost encourage it. We read awful show reviews, watch videos of artists falling down, unable to recall their lyrics streaming on a teleprompter just a few feet away. And then we click "add to cart" because what actually belongs in a hospital is now considered art.
Many of these artists have children. Children with tears in their eyes, experiencing panic because their cries go unheard. You might ask, "How were we to know? We read that he loved spending time with his children and that he'd been drug-free for years!" In reality, what you didn't want to acknowledge was a paranoid man who couldn't remember his own lyrics and who was only photographed with his children a handful of times in 15 years of fatherhood. I've always wanted to share more than anyone was comfortable with. When writing a book years ago, it pained me to sometimes gloss over so much grief and struggle, but I did what I thought was best for Noah and Lucy. I knew they would one day see and feel everything that I'd been trying to shield them from, and that they'd eventually be brave enough to say, "That mess was our father. We loved him, but a deep-rooted mix of love and disappointment made up the majority of our relationship with him."
Even after Scott and I split up, I spent countless hours trying to calm his paranoid fits, pushing him into the shower and filling him with coffee, just so that I could drop him into the audience at Noah's talent show, or Lucy's musical. Those short encounters were my attempts at giving the kids a feeling of normalcy with their dad. But anything longer would often turn into something scary and uncomfortable for them. Spending so many years immersed in Scott's multiple illnesses led to my own depression; at one point, I was misdiagnosed as bipolar. I feared the same would happen to the children. There were times that Child Protective Services did not allow him to to be alone with them.



When Scott did move on to another relationship, I hoped it would inspire him to grow. I had often encouraged him to date a "normal" girl, a woman who was also a mother, someone who had the energy that I no longer had to love him. Instead, when he remarried, the children were replaced. They were not invited to his wedding; child support checks often never arrived. Our once sweet Catholic boy refused to watch the kids participate in Christmas Eve plays because he was now an atheist. They have never set foot into his house, and they can't remember the last time they saw him on a Father's Day. I don't share this with you to cast judgment, I do so because you most likely know at least one child in the same shoes. If you do, please acknowledge them and their experience. Offer to accompany them to the father-daughter dance, or teach them to throw a football. Even the bravest girl or boy will refrain from asking for something like that; they may be ashamed, or not want to inconvenience you. Just offer – or even insist if you have to.
This is the final step in our long goodbye to Scott. Even though I felt we had no other choice, maybe we never should have let him go. Or maybe these last few years of separation were his parting gift to us – the only way he could think to soften what he knew would one day crush us deep into our souls. Over the last few years, I could hear his sadness and confusion when he'd call me late into the night, often crying about his inability to separate himself from negative people and bad choices. I won't say he can rest now, or that he's in a better place. He belongs with his children barbecuing in the backyard and waiting for a Notre Dame game to come on. We are angry and sad about this loss, but we are most devastated that he chose to give up.
Noah and Lucy never sought perfection from their dad. They just kept hoping for a little effort. If you're a parent not giving your best effort, all anyone asks is that you try just a little harder and don't give up. Progress, not perfection, is what your children are praying for. Our hope for Scott has died, but there is still hope for others. Let's choose to make this the first time we don't glorify this tragedy with talk of rock and roll and the demons that, by the way, don't have to come with it. Skip the depressing T-shirt with 1967-2015 on it – use the money to take a kid to a ballgame or out for ice cream.

Read more: http://www.rollingstone.com/music/news/scott-weiland-s-family-dont-glorify-this-tragedy-20151207#ixzz3usAOARLH