I won't even pretend having known much about the life or music of Gil Scott-Heron, until his death last week at 62. I have always loved "Lady Day and John Coltrane", and appreciated "The Revolution Will Not Be Televised" (which he wrote when he was 19), but I'd be lying if I said I knew "Home Is Where the Hatred Is" before Kanye used it in his hit.
Therefore, let me just say his existence has been meaningful in many ways, and direct you to my favorite song for his music, and a decent epitaph of sorts published in The New Yorker for his life. The text is written by an Alec Wilkinson who apparently knew Scott-Heron personally. Although I can't decide whether his profile story of the artist from a year back comes closer to voyerism or journalism. The epitaph, however, is informative and respectful, as they should come. Enter the The New Yorker's blogpost "Gil Scott-Heron's Scornful Brilliance" from here, and his musical legacy from below.
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