LOS ANGELES (Reuters) -
Lynyrd Skynyrd is the band that refused to die, even if many of its members are now playing in rock 'n' roll heaven. In the latest setback to hit the southern rock band during its three-decade history, bass player Leon Wilkeson died in his sleep in July, his heart and liver apparently succumbing to a lifetime of partying.
After canceling a few shows, the band returned to the road, with just two original members in its seven-man lineup.
But Wilkeson's spirit lives on. Or more exactly, a hat-stand bearing many of his outrageous hats gets its own spotlight on stage. As a banner bearing Wilkeson's likeness is unfurled, singer Johnny Van Zant dedicates the song "Simple Man" to the band's practical joker. "He would never want us to stop, and we're not gonna stop. We're gonna keep going on," band leader and original guitarist Gary Rossington, 49, said in a group interview with Reuters before a recent Los Angeles show.
Wilkeson, who was also 49, is the fourth member of the band to die. Singer Ronnie Van Zant, Johnny's older brother, and guitarist Steve Gaines were killed in 1977 when the group's chartered plane ran out of gas and crashed in a swamp. In 1990, three years after the group reunited, guitarist Allen Collins died of pneumonia, having been paralyzed from the waist down in a 1986 car crash that killed his girlfriend.
Often billed as the American version of the Rolling Stones, Lynyrd Skynyrd was almost as well known during its pre-crash heyday for its hell-raising exploits as for a sizzling three-guitar attack that yielded such classic rock staples as "Free Bird," "Sweet Home Alabama" and "That Smell."
Ronnie Van Zant co-wrote the latter song, a blistering tirade about drug abuse, with Rossington in mind.
DOGGED BY 'CLING-ON FANS'
These days, with a sober Rossington in charge and most of its players salaried employees, the band's wild days are long gone. Wilkeson, who suffered from hepatitis B and had missed many shows while on rehab stints, was the last link to the bad, old days. Gregarious and eager to show he was a regular guy, Wilkeson was befriended by what Johnny Van Zant, 41, angrily terms "all the cling-on fans that called themselves ... friends of his." With Wilkeson's hotel suite doubling as Party Central, his alcohol-free resolve inevitably crumbled.
His worried bandmates knew his generosity would be his downfall one day, but his July 27 death still shocked them. Results of his autopsy are pending.
Pianist Billy Powell, the other original member, was especially affected. Powell and Wilkeson had known each other since childhood in the band's Jacksonville, Florida, hometown, and were kicked out of the Cub Scouts together. "Our motto was that we would be hoods until the day we die," said Powell, 49.
Powell is still battling booze, and says Wilkeson's death is a wake-up call. "I have lost sleep over it, to tell you the truth. I've woken up in a cold sweat, man, with nightmares, with Leon talking to me."
Referring to the band's apparent curse, Powell added: "Somebody's trying to take us down but they're not going to." Indeed, Wilkeson's death has helped make the band more defiant, looking to step out from the shadow of its venerable past as well as from some bizarre legal obligations.
Lynyrd Skynyrd is actually a company whose stockholders include the estates of Van Zant, Gaines and Collins. The estates have no creative input, but take a cut of anything bearing the Lynyrd Skynyrd name -- to Rossington's chagrin.
"We do it out of the kindness of our heart and because they were a part of us," said Rossington, who doubles as company president. "People know that Ronnie and Allen and Steve aren't here anymore, and people are coming to see this band."
'GO AHEAD ... SUE US'
Poor relations between the band and the estates used to produce some rancorous stockholder meetings, but things seem to have improved recently. Since Lynyrd Skynyrd is technically in breach of a legal covenant requiring the lineup to consist of Rossington and at least two designated original members, Van Zant's widow, Judy Van Zant Jenness, could take them to court.
The musicians dare her to. "We've even told her that: go ahead and sue us," said Powell.
Adds guitarist Rickey Medlocke, 51, "The bottom line of all this: him (Rossington), Allen and Ronnie started the band. And if this guy can't do what he wants to do with this band, then f--- everybody." (The group is rounded out by guitarist Hughie Thomasson, drummer Michael Cartellone and bassist Ean Evans.)
A call and an email to Van Zant Jenness were not returned.
The band knows that the estates count on its existence, not only for merchandising and ticket sales but also for royalties. Boosted by the touring, Lynyrd Skynyrd's old albums sell about 1.5 million copies in the United States annually. If the band called it quits, too many parents, widows, children and grandchildren would feel the sting. And so Lynyrd Skynyrd maintains a vigorous touring schedule, grossing $4.2 million in ticket sales for the year to date, according to figures reported to trade publication Pollstar.
Its newer albums do not sell as well as those from the pre-crash era, which have sold about 23 million copies in the United States, according to recent conservative calculations by the Recording Industry Association of America.
The lively 100-minute concerts, attended by surprisingly young crowds, barely acknowledge the post-crash output, instead focusing on the golden oldies and obligatory "Free Bird" encore. "We're all doing good (financially), but we're not old yet," says Rossington. "So we need to keep going another" -- and he pauses for a second -- "thirty years."
