Reflections on Rowland

I want to write a bit about Rowland S Howard, who I knew a little in person — he was good friends with my ex-girlfriend’s mother — and whose music I love. His wonderful 1999 album Teenage Snuff Film was recently released for the first time in the USA; I wanted to write about it, but for various reasons that didn’t happen, so I’m writing something here instead. <img alt="" src="https://miro.medium.com/v2/resize:fit:604/1*keNSb342VnRTyBwYkM1PEw.png" style="height:888px; width:604px" /> Courtesy of Kane Hibberd. All rights reserved. I admired Rowland so, so much. It’s hard for most of us not to think of his career without thinking of Nick Cave, who had enjoyed much more commercial success — but Rowland always struck me as the more interesting one, the John Cale to Cave’s Lou Reed, the Brian Eno to Cave’s Bryan Ferry. His songs were every bit as dark as his old bandmate’s, but they were leavened by a bone-dry sense of humour and a sense of fragility, both of which Cave’s often lacked. That fragility seemed to underpin his relative lack of commercial success; it takes a certain sort of person to really go after fame and success, a certain single-mindedness and ruthlessness. <a href="https://medium.com/@tomhawking/reflections-on-rowland-be61d0c8feaa">Visit Now</a>