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Something that amazes me is the very sad and depressing fact that when a hero of rock music dies, someone who was a true entertainer, a humble man from a poor background that gave his heart to sing - suddenly people from academic cultural established institutions in media and education, all agree about what a fantastic singer was. They even brag about how well they knew him. When truth is that they never had any respect at all for what he was doing. They contempted him. Looked down on him. But he didn't care - he just kept on singing. He was there for the audience, with a true love of what he was doing. That is what the blues is about. Now when he is dead, they can all afford to agree about how great he was. Someone said: It is ok to like him. So they do. After all...ok he was on stage for 40 years. When he was alive, they laughed behind his back. Robyn wrote: "They used to laugh and call her names. Now they all try to copy her, isn't that a shame".
RIP Erik "Jerry Williams" Fernström.
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