long live gil scott heron

After a period of sadness, I rejoiced at the death of griot Gil Scott-Heron who passed away Friday.
No, I wasn't happy that he's dead. I was relieved for him. I didn't know him directly but, like a lot of other people, he spoke to me through his poetry and music. News stories in recent years gave accounts of the hard times that had fallen upon him, losing his career and spiraling downward into substance abuse and other illnesses.
So, with physical death, he is free of the pain and torment that have dogged him the last couple of decades. His death also brings attention to his estimable body of work which changed the cultural fabric of the United States for the better. His astute analysis and searing commentary on America in the 1970's and 80's were profound.
He used the media of spoken word, jazz, percussion and blues, rooted in traditions that include Langston Hughes, Curtis Mayfield and John Coltrane.
He called himself a bluesologist.
He spoke powerfully. His message was Afrocentric, the prism through which he experienced the world but he spoke to all people of good will. His songs, deeply imbued with richness and heartfelt, were delivered in his distinctive baritone voice. While their voices were of different pitches, Scott-Heron's utterances were reminiscent of Malcolm X - strong, true, pointed and meaningful.
When listening to him, it seemed he was talking to you even though you knew millions of others heard him and felt the same way.
Since Friday, I've been revisiting his music. Its universality is even more prominent now. It's already classic.
He still speaks clearly.