The statement from his official website reads:
It is with heavy hearts we announce that early this morning, May 30th, 2019, Leon Redbone crossed the delta for that beautiful shore at the age of 127. He departed our world with his guitar, his trusty companion Rover, and a simple tip of his hat. He’s interested to see what Blind Blake, Emmett, and Jelly Roll have been up to in his absence, and has plans for a rousing sing along number with Sári Barabás. An eternity of pouring through texts in the Library of Ashurbanipal will be a welcome repose, perhaps followed by a shot or two of whiskey with Lee Morse, and some long overdue discussions with his favorite Uncle, Suppiluliuma I of the Hittites. To his fans, friends, and loving family who have already been missing him so in this realm he says, ‘Oh behave yourselves. Thank you…. and good evening everybody’.
I’ll take him at his word [although the obits list his age at 69 — more Fake News?]
Mr. Redbone first appeared on the scene in the early 1970’s.
I’m not sure which one of us discovered him first, my Father or myself, but we both became immediate fans. I suspect that Dad appreciated the nostalgia and the way Mr. Redbone captured the sounds of his youth [Dad was born in 1925].
I, on the other hand, as a budding musician and composer, was first looking into the roots [a now overused term] of Rock And Roll. LR was a damn fine Bluesman — he captured the Juke Joint atmosphere of Robert Johnson and other contemporaries. Mr. Redbone also introduced me to The Great American Songbook in it’s original forms. This was quite a change from the Sinatra / Dino versions that I had been listening to — even from the Bunny Berigan versions recorded in the 1930’s and early 1940’s that my Father played over-and-over.
Last night, on our way to a High School Graduation, I played a selection of LR in the car and it had the calming effect of a Maker’s Mark on-the-rocks.
Let’s hear some selections from the Wonderful Leon Redbone…
For me and my gal…
Perhaps, my favorite arrangement / performance..
Like Jack Horner in the corner…
Requiescat in pace.