Indelible melodies, beautiful production, emotionally committed performances, and, most of all, a gentle wisdom, a repudiation of the status quo, a sense that we were not alone. Here was someone who was trying to make sense of life, too; he may not have had the answers, but he was looking for them, and we were encouraged to join him. Here was a friend. Of course, I quickly learned that Cat Stevens had already ceased to be. My adolescent soul despaired, knowing that there would be no more Cat Stevens albums, no more Cat Stevens concerts.
The man who had become a hero to me had long since retired from the music world. In time, his music, too, would fade from my consciousness. As I grew and matured, so did my musical tastes and sensibilities. I was intrigued when he came out of retirement with the two Yusuf albums, and listened to each of them a handful of times with attendant hopes and it seemed inevitable disappointment. It was hard to get excited about his music now. The voice was the same, but the spirit was changed, different, unwelcoming.
Nevertheless, when it was announced, in late , that he was going to perform in America for the first time in thirty-eight years, I put my misgivings aside and became a teen-ager again, queueing up for tickets on the phone the morning they went on sale. I simply drove up to Boston to see my old hero, expectations dimmed to almost nothing.
I imagined that there I would see Yusuf Islam, delivering a respectful program of his latter-day music, with perhaps one or two old favorites thrown in as crowd appeasement. I was going to pay homage to the singer whose music had once so inspired me, for the chance to simply be in the same room with him for the first and what I assumed would be the last time. It has taken some time for me to think clearly about what it was like to be at that show.
What happened there was more than just a good concert given by a group of well-rehearsed, talented musicians, backing a pop icon on a comeback tour, though it was partly that. It was more than just a nostalgic trip down memory lane, as a sold-out crowd sang along to songs that many including myself never expected to hear played live again, though it was partly that, too.
Without resorting to hyperbole, being there, for me, was an unexpected catharsis, something like seeing a ghost. Was he now acknowledging his former self? This was a surprise, the first of many that the evening would hold. He then amazed the world by walking away from fame and his career as a music star, to start a family and dedicate himself to charitable work.
After getting married and having children, Yusuf became heavily involved with education and humanitarian relief. He helped to found the Muslim Aid charity and participated directly in their early initiatives throughout Africa, Asia, and Europe. In addition, he founded a Muslim primary school in North London in After years of ceaseless campaigning, in the school was awarded grant—maintained status, an historic first in the UK.
In the late s, Yusuf and his wife, Fawziah, established the Small Kindness charity in response to the devastating conflicts in the Balkans. The charity focused its efforts on the needs of orphans, widows, and families. Small Kindness continues to help vulnerable victims of humanitarian disasters and has received international recognition for its work.
At this time Yusuf also began producing educational recordings on his own label, Mountain of Light, beginning in with The Life of the Last Prophet. From he concentrated on albums for a younger audience and produced some of the most popular CDs for children in the Muslim world including A is for Allah and I Look I See. The teenager quickly began writing and playing his own songs.
The performance informally launched his career. A year later he landed a publishing deal as a songwriter, and adopted the stage name Cat Stevens. The song was a hit, making it to No. A year after that, at the age of 18, producer Mike Hurst lured the singer over to Decca Records.
Although Stevens was beginning to experience some success as a pop star, he longed to release some of his more seasoned tracks. Decca declined, insisting that Stevens had been positioned to appeal to a teen audience and should continue in this vein. The blow knocked Stevens into a depression, and the star self-medicated with alcohol. The stresses of his newfound work and his hard-partying lifestyle took an additional toll on his health, and by he was diagnosed with tuberculosis.
A three-month stint in the hospital and a lengthy convalescence gave Stevens time to reflect on his chosen path and reevaluate his approach to life.
Although Stevens had experienced success overseas, the American release of Tea for the Tillerman and the single "Wild World" made Stevens a true star in the United States. The album went gold, and brought a renewed interest to his previous recordings, which enjoyed a similar spike in sales. Stevens experienced unprecedented success with hits including "Moon Shadow," "Peace Train" and "Morning Has Broken," and even recorded tracks for the offbeat film Harold and Maude.
His next album, Catch Bull at Four , stayed at the top of the charts for three weeks, making it his most successful American release. After releasing a successful greatest hits compilation in , he put out his tenth album, Izitso , which also went gold.
Around this time, while swimming at a Malibu beach, Stevens nearly drowned. Facing imminent death led the singer to make a promise: If divine intervention could save him from drowning, Stevens would devote his life to honoring God. According to Stevens, a wave pushed him to shore as if in answer to his prayers. Soon after this brush with mortality, Stevens' brother gave him with a copy of the Koran as a birthday present.
0コメント