Twice in recent weeks I've stumbled upon news of deaths in the music
world well after the fact.
I only learned of Ian Copeland's death from the credits for Everyone Stares: The Police Inside Out.
Ian, one of Stewart's brothers, was the band's manager and booking
agent. He served in a similar capacity to a bunch of other bands that
helped define 1980s. He died last May. I'm still amused by the names of
the outfits of the Copeland brothers, a response to their father's
serving in the CIA. Ian's agency was FBI. Miles' record label was IRS.
Stewart is in the Police. I was preoccupied with caring for a newborn
at the time of Ian's death, but it didn't make much news beyond the
Chalk it up to geography that I missed the news that Aldo Jones died of
leukemia in 2001 at age 41. Jones was a member of the Ben Vaughn Combo
and worked with many other Philly musicians in the late 80s and early
90s when I was seeing a lot of local Philly acts. On one of my first
dates with an old boyfriend, grabbing a bite at Silk City at the end of the
night, Aldo walked in. That both of us considered this a celebrity
sighting sums up the foundation of that relationship. News of his
passing didn't make it to Chicago, and I'm no longer connected to that
scene for someone to have tipped me off.