Gil Scott-Heron died on May 27, in New York City. He had fallen ill after returning from Europe. It had been earlier confirmed that he was HIV-positive. He had been previously hospitalized for pneumonia as well.

By KEVIN ‘CHILL’ HEARD

Managing Editor

He was groovin,’ and that was when he coulda sworn, the room was movin.’

But that was only in his mind. He was sailin,’ he never really seemed to notice,
vision failin,’ ‘cause that was all part of the high. Sweat was pourin,’ he couldn't take it, the room was exploding, he might not make it. – Gil Scott-Heron’s “Angel Dust” 

I first became aware of Gil Scott-Heron because of the late ‘70s song “Angel Dust.”

The song was an all-to-real recount of drug use, specifically angel dust (PCP). It was hard to disassociate the descriptive brilliance of Heron’s words from the fact that his knowledge of such matters was probably first-hand.

Having been arrested several times due the possession of cocaine, Heron was a troubled genius. In death, he may be more recognizable to the public for his iconic spoken word hit “The Revolution Will Not Be Televised.”

You will not be able to stay home, brother. You will not be able to plug in, turn on and cop out. You will not be able to lose yourself on skag and skip out for beer during commercials, because the revolution will not be televised. – Gil Scott-Heron’s “The Revolution Will Not Be Televised.”

Gil Scott-Heron died on May 27, in New York City. He had fallen ill after returning from Europe. It had been earlier confirmed that he was HIV-positive. He had been previously hospitalized for pneumonia as well.

As of press time, the cause of Scott-Heron’s death has yet to be announced.

As a creative force Gil Scott- Heron was so much more that “Angel Dust” and “The Revolution Will Not Be Televised.” The list and quality of his spoken word and musical pieces are mind-boggling. His voice spoke of protest and civil justice. He was a dissident who used his words and rhythms as his weapons. Often held as a forefather of rap music, and more precisely “conscious rap,” Heron was frequently critical of the new musical movement and pushed back from such associations between him and it.

I suggest on the matter of Gil Scott Heron and Hip-Hop, the latter would have benefited greatly from such a relationship. It always saddened me that he never saw the totality of the Hip-Hop movement or sought to contribute a higher level of his creative collateral to it.

Scott-Heron labeled himself as a “bluesologist” and his many collaborations with musician Brian Jackson indeed mixed the feel of blues and jazz in a soulful stratosphere where no others were able to properly follow.

With almost 25 Gil Scott-Heron albums, between the years of 1970 to 2010, the full luminosity of him as an artist (and in my opinion, sorely under-appreciated) is on display for those who dare to walk the path of this often troubled genius. 

Remembering Gil Scott-Heron April 1, 1949 – May 27, 2011.