There’s a saying that I’m not particularly fond of about the good dying young, the fashionable persona embalmed. The good die, the bad die, you only get one chance, it’s an un-penetrable world of confusion out there. Thankfully there was a Gil Scott-Heron, a person with a voice from beyond here.

‘Where Did The Night Go’

‘New York Is Killing Me’

‘Whitey On The Moon’

A tune that goes by the name ‘The Revolution Will Not Be Televised’

Rest in peace.