I first heard of Nick Drake when I was still in junior high school. I was in a prolonged, pathetic phase of ranking and re-ranking the greatest albums in popular music history, and as a result my father bought me a book that contained many such lists as voted on by a couple thousand people in Great Britain. There were many names in that book that I had never heard before, which was quite a distressing event for my former preteen self, who was certain he had mastered every aspect of rock history since 1954. Alien artists like The Smiths, The Stone Roses, and Love, all of whom have since become some of my all-time favorites, were ranked extremely highly, but I had yet to even hear a note of their work. In addition to those previously mentioned, the name of Nick Drake kept reoccurring, along with frequent references to the broken life he lived. My curiosity got the best of me, and I bought Way To Blue: An Introduction To Nick Drake. The first song I heard was the haunting, harrowing “Black Eyed Dog,” one of the very last songs Drake recorded before his passing at the age of 26 on November 24, 1974 after an overdose on antidepressants. Immediately, I was devastated by the sounds I was hearing. I had never heard anything so naked, so excruciating, and so beautiful. At the age of 12, I knew I had found something that was going to change my life. If it were possible to wear out a compact disc, I would have exhausted Drake’s “best of” collection at least four times over. Every song made me stop what I was doing and lose myself within the rolling, soothing melodies and acoustic placidity. Every song paralyzed me. I had to figure out the story behind this man, and discover what it was that enabled him to create such a body of work. It astounded me to discover that Drake had next to no commercial success while he was alive. He recorded three albums: Five Leaves Left in 1969, Bryter Layter in 1970, and Pink Moon in 1972, none of which attained any serious recognition from the record-buying public at the time. Drake was an extremely shy individual, which ironically sentenced him to commercial failure while simultaneously providing fuel for the massive cult following his work has now massed. He did not like to make concert appearances, and when he did, they were very brief and very awkward. Even in the studio, Drake was reticent. As the story goes, during the four hours in which Pink Moon was recorded, Nick recorded the entire album sitting in a chair in a corner, facing the wall, accompanied by only his acoustic guitar. The sparseness of Pink Moon’s production is the key to the intense intimacy it radiates. There are no bells and whistles, no studio tricks, and no pimped-out remixes. There is only a man with his guitar, letting flow his personal demons and dejection in the only way he knows. Nick Drake battled severe depression throughout his life, and although he was shy in his daily life, his recordings showcase a touching honesty and vulnerability, solidifying them as unassailably timeless. Pink Moon is the candid apex of his catalogue, capable of packing more of an emotional, poignant punch in its short 28-minute duration than most artists dream about delivering in their entire careers. After completing the album in late 1971, Nick Drake dropped off the master tapes to his record company and disappeared from the public eye, retreating into an ailing cell of misery and despondency. In 1974, he wrote and recorded a handful of songs, which would later prove to be his last, the aforementioned “Black Eyed Dog” being one of them. The lyrics used in the songs, “Black Eyed Dog” in particular, seem eerily prophetic of his demise, evoking chilling themes of impending mortality. A black eyed dog he called at my door The black eyed dog he called for more A black eyed dog he knew my name I’m growing old and I wanna go home I’m growing old and I don’t wanna know I’m growing old and I wanna go home. Whether Drake’s death was a suicide or an accident is still hotly debated, but what is never disputed is his singular ability to tear open his body and offer his heart and soul to anyone willing to listen. The wounds may never have h ealed, yet in three albums, Nick Drake created a body of work that his since captivated and hypnotized generations of listeners. Trends may come and go, genres may fade in and out of fashion, and lives will ignite and diminish, but there will always be a pink moon burning a hole through the sky.
