‘27: Gone Too Soon’ on Netflix Explores The Infamous Rock & Roll Conspiracy Theory

Back in the 1980s, the junior high school handball courts of America were constantly buzzing with rumors about the icons of classic rock. Between drags of cigarettes pilfered from their mother’s purses, denim-bedecked heshers traded gossip like so many church ladies.

“Yo dude, I heard Led Zeppelin sold their souls to the Devil and that’s why John Bonham died.”

“Oh yeah, I heard Rod Stewart had to get his stomach pumped from swallowing too much jizz after because he blew an entire soccer team.”

“Nah, that was Elton John maaaaaaan!”

“Well yo man, did you know that Brian Jones, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin and Jim Morrison all died when they were 27?”

“Who’s Brian Jones?”

“Duuuuuuuuuuude!!!”

That last factoid is the premise behind 27: Gone Too Soon, a 2018 British music documentary currently streaming on Netflix. Written and directed by Simon Napier-Bell, whose name I recognize from the back of my Yardbirds records, and who also made the rather enjoyable Sinatra: To Be Frank doc, the film presents a collection of nattering English twits ruminating on “The 27 Club,” which includes the aforementioned ‘60s rockers plus Nirvana’s Kurt Cobain and singer Amy Winehouse, all of whom did indeed die when they were 27-years-old.

27: Gone Too Soonfalls into a practical sub-genre of quickly produced UK music documentaries, which feature scant original music and footage, and hyperbolic commentary from B-list music industry hacks and cast-off celebrity acquaintances. Early ‘80s synth rock one-hit wonder Gary Numan is about as impressive as it gets in this production, with the other talking heads being radio hosts, music writers and psychologists, who treat us to such “insights” as “Every artist is fucked up in some way in their childhood. Often what fucked them up in their childhood leads to their greatest piece of work.”

To illustrate the supposed powerful connection between brilliant artists and early deaths, pioneering gay rights rocker and radio show host Tom Robinson says, “If you look at all the whole of 20th century and 21st century music, there’s actually 50 famous musicians who all died at the age of 27, and if you look at 26 and 28 then there’s a 100, and if you look at everyone who died in the field of popular music, at the height of their fame, there’s well over 1000 who died before the age of 35.” It’s a ludicrous analogy, arbitrarily adding factors to make a point, which is ultimately meaningless.

Grey haired baby boomers are soon trotted out, telling us how the ‘60s was the first time “teenagers didn’t look just like their parents,” which isn’t true, and did drugs, also not correct, and how the era forever wedded hedonistic rebellion with introspective rock music. Well, OK, I guess you can have that one if you really want it. They make colossal jumps from ‘60s pot and acid to the cocaine abuse of the ‘70s, and call the music business the ultimate enabler for a generation of traumatized musicians.

After 20 minutes of such logical gymnastics, the film profiles the big six members of The 27 Club, conveniently rearranging facts to prove its thesis and rehashing a litany of rock critic clichés. Rolling Stones founding member Brian Jones was traumatized by the death of his sister when he was two and had to relive the trauma when Keith Richards stole his girlfriend when he was 26. Jimi Hendrix’s childhood was “ghastly beyond Dickensian proportions.” Janis Joplin was badly bullied and later “immersed herself in the drug culture,” well actually that part’s true. Jim Morrison had “a knack for poetic metaphors and images” and his Dad was a dick. Cobain came from a family with a history of mental illness. Amy Winehouse had bad relationships with the men in her life. And they were great musicians. And they did drugs. And they died. When they were 27. So what?

Some people have unhappy childhoods. Others don’t. Some people become musicians. Some musicians drink too much and do drugs. So do some electricians. Young people tend to take more risks than older people. Yeah, the members of “The 27 Club” left behind some great music. So did Keith Richards and Jimmy Page and any number of other great musicians who ingested a pharmacy full drugs in their youth and are still alive and kicking. There’s no glory in death and 27: Gone Too Soon trades in the worst sort of mythmaking, trying to find meaning in the often accidental early ends of musicians and examine their lives with a predetermined criteria in order to find a common thread. But, on the upside, it’s only an hour long.

Benjamin H. Smith is a New York based writer, producer and musician. Follow him on Twitter:@BHSmithNYC.

Watch 27 Gone Too Soon on Netflix