Rock

Parthenon Huxley, Power Pop Craftsman and ELO Part II Guitarist, Dies at 66

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Parthenon Huxley, the gifted songwriter, producer, and guitarist whose melodic instincts made him a quiet pillar of modern power pop, passed away peacefully on January 30, 2026. He was 70.

Born Richard Miller on January 19, 1956, in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, Parthenon Huxley, who drew his professional name from a love of Greece and Aldous Huxley, was a gifted songwriter, producer, and guitarist whose melodic instincts made him a foundation of modern power pop.

He first gained recognition in the early 1980s with the Spongetones, a band whose jangling guitars and airtight harmonies earned them lasting admiration among power pop fans and fellow musicians alike. Though mainstream success proved elusive, the group’s influence endured, shaping a generation of artists who valued precision and harmony.

After relocating to Los Angeles, Huxley launched a solo career that revealed the full depth of his songwriting voice. Albums such as Sunny Nights and Deluxe highlighted his gift for economy and melody, pairing bright hooks with thoughtful arrangements and a producer’s ear for detail.

Huxley later joined ELO Part II (later renamed the Orchestra), touring extensively and helping bring the band’s catalog to audiences around the world. His playing balanced technical precision with restraint, always in service of the song.

Beyond the stage, Parthenon Huxley earned wide respect as a producer, collaborator, and musical director. In the studio, he was known for patience and preparation, someone who understood that the smallest decisions often shaped the strongest records.

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Francis Buchholz, Former Scorpions and Michael Schenker Group Bassist, Dies

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Francis Buchholz, the steady low-end force behind Scorpions during their most successful and influential years, has died. He was 72.

Born February 19, 1954 in Hanover, Germany, Buchholz joined Scorpions in 1973, stepping into a band that was still shaping its identity and helping anchor what would become one of hard rock’s most enduring catalogs. His tenure stretched across nearly two decades, covering the group’s creative and commercial peak.

Buchholz played bass on a defining run of albums, including Fly to the Rainbow, In Trance, Virgin Killer, Taken by Force, Lovedrive, Animal Magnetism, Blackout, Love at First Sting, Savage Amusement, and Crazy World. Those albums produced some of the band’s most recognizable songs and helped Scorpions grow from European hard rock contenders into a global arena act.

While guitarists Rudolf Schenker and Matthias Jabs handled the flash and Klaus Meine delivered the voice, Buchholz brought stability, groove, and feel. His playing rarely demanded attention, but it held everything together, giving Scorpions’ music its muscle and momentum. Whether driving the speed of their heavier tracks or locking into the slower burn of their ballads, his presence was constant.

Beyond his role as a bassist, Buchholz was also involved behind the scenes, contributing to songwriting during key periods of the band’s evolution. His work helped shape the sound that carried Scorpions through the late ’70s and into the MTV era of the ’80s.

He departed the band in 1992 following Crazy World, closing the chapter on a lineup that many fans still consider the group’s classic era.

After leaving Scorpions, Buchholz remained active, including a period with the Michael Schenker Group, where his grounded, melodic bass work fit naturally alongside Schenker’s sharp-edged guitar style.

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Rob Hirst, Midnight Oil Drummer and Co-Founder, Dead at 70

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Rob Hirst, the founding drummer and rhythmic backbone of Midnight Oil, has died at age 70 following a nearly three-year battle with pancreatic cancer.

For more than five decades, Hirst helped drive one of the most important bands ever to emerge from Australia. As both drummer and songwriter, he played a central role in shaping Midnight Oil’s sound and purpose, anchoring their urgent, politically charged music with a style that was forceful, disciplined, and unmistakably his own.

Born in Camden, New South Wales, on September 3, 1955, Hirst co-founded the band in 1972 alongside guitarist Jim Moginie. With the later additions of Peter Garrett and Martin Rotsey, Midnight Oil evolved from a hard-working pub band into an international force, known as much for conviction as volume. Hirst’s drumming powered that ascent, giving the band its forward momentum while leaving room for the message to land.

He co-wrote many of the group’s defining songs, including “Beds Are Burning,” “The Dead Heart,” and “Blue Sky Mine,” tracks that carried environmental, political, and Indigenous rights issues into mainstream rock without dilution. Across thirteen studio albums, Midnight Oil built a catalog that refused neutrality, and Hirst was central to its construction.

Away from the Oils, he remained creatively restless. Hirst recorded and performed with projects including the Ghostwriters, Backsliders, the Angry Tradesmen, the Break, and his own solo work. In 2020, he released music with his daughter Jay O’Shea, a collaboration rooted in family and shared musical language. His final solo EP, A Hundred Years or More, arrived in 2025.

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Kenny Morris, Original Siouxsie and the Banshees Drummer, Dead at 68

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Kenny Morris, the original drummer of Siouxsie and the Banshees and a key architect of their earliest sound, died on January 15, 2026 at the age of 68.

Born Febuary 1, 1957, Morris was there at the beginning, emerging from London’s first-wave punk scene and helping shape the Banshees at their most stark and confrontational. Alongside Siouxsie Sioux and Steven Severin, he played on the band’s first two albums, The Scream (1978) and Join Hands (1979), records that helped define the dark, disciplined edge of post-punk.

His drumming style was physical and uncompromising, driven more by tension and atmosphere than flash. Heavy toms, martial rhythms, and a sense of restraint gave early Banshees songs their cold intensity, setting them apart from both punk’s chaos and rock’s excess. Those performances became a foundation for a band that would go on to influence goth, alternative rock, and generations of post-punk musicians.

Before recordings, Morris was already part of Banshees lore, appearing at the band’s incendiary early shows, including the 100 Club Punk Festival, a flashpoint moment that helped ignite the UK punk movement. His tenure captured the group in its rawest form, when structure and danger existed side by side.

Morris left Siouxsie and the Banshees in 1979 and was later replaced by Budgie, whose arrival marked a new chapter in the band’s evolution. Afterward, Morris remained connected to the underground spirit that shaped him, co-founding the Moors Murderers (later known as the Moors), a confrontational project emblematic of punk’s more extreme impulses.

In later years, Morris moved away from the spotlight, spending time in Ireland and working in the arts while remaining a revered figure among those who understood how crucial the early days were.

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Bob Weir, Grateful Dead Co-Founder and Rhythmic Soul, Dies at 78

Bob Weir, 1975. Photo Credit: via Wikimedia

Bob Weir, the guitarist, singer, songwriter and co-founder of the Grateful Dead who helped shape more than half a century of American music, died January 10, 2026, at the age of 78. He passed peacefully, surrounded by family, after complications related to long-term lung illness following cancer treatment.

For millions of fans, Weir was never just a band member. He was a presence. A guide. A steady hand in the middle of music that could wander for hours and still feel like home.

Born October 16, 1947 in San Francisco and raised in nearby Atherton, Weir found his future in a chance teenage meeting with Jerry Garcia in Palo Alto. That encounter sparked one of the most unlikely and influential partnerships in American music. Within a few years, they had formed what would become the Grateful Dead, a band that rejected pop formulas and embraced open-ended improvisation, turning concerts into living, breathing events.

Weir’s guitar style was singular. While Garcia soared and soloed, Weir built a rhythmic framework that was loose, jazzy, percussive and constantly shifting. He rarely played traditional rhythm guitar, instead weaving chord fragments, counter-melodies and syncopated pulses that gave the Dead their elastic feel. It was subtle, but it was essential.

As a songwriter and vocalist, Weir gave the band some of its most enduring material. “Sugar Magnolia,” “One More Saturday Night,” “Truckin’,” “Cassidy” and “Mexicali Blues” carried a sense of joy, mischief and American wanderlust that balanced Garcia’s more introspective side. His voice had a conversational warmth that made the songs feel like invitations rather than performances.

Before long, the Dead became a culture, a lifestyle. Their fans followed them from city to city, trading tapes, stories and shared experiences. Weir was at the center of that world, approachable, curious, and deeply aware that the relationship between the band and the audience was as important as the music itself.

When Garcia died in 1995, many assumed the story was over. Weir refused that idea. He kept the music moving forward through RatDog, the Other Ones, Furthur, and eventually Dead & Company, introducing the Dead’s music to a new generation of listeners. His partnership with John Mayer in Dead & Company surprised skeptics and ultimately won them over, proving that the music could evolve without losing its soul.

In the summer of 2025, even while dealing with serious health issues, Weir returned to Golden Gate Park for three nights celebrating 60 years of music. Those shows were emotional, powerful, and filled with gratitude. They felt less like a farewell and more like a final statement of purpose: this music still mattered, and so did the community around it.

Weir never spoke about legacy in grand terms, but he understood the weight of what he helped create. He often said that the same song could become something new every time it was played, and that idea became a guiding principle for his entire career. Nothing was fixed. Everything was alive.

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