Such a Nice Guy: The Outlaw, Larry Norman

Such a Nice Guy: The Outlaw, Larry Norman
4/8/1947 – 2/24/2008

“I feel like a prize in a box of cracker jacks with God’s hand reaching down to pick me up,” Larry Norman said the day before his heart stopped. “I am ready to fly home.”

Larry was a natural storyteller, and he drew them from two sources only: real life, and the Bible. His songs are all vignettes of various characters and Larry’s observations about human spiritual nature. I veered a little far from the straight and narrow to always swallow his brand of Christianity. Then again, Larry was also banned from the conservative world. He was extremely free with the words ‘rock n roll’ in his songs, and he refused any of the saccharine polish in his music that characterized the burgeoning field of contemporary gospel music. He said it was never his intention to preach to the converted. He never apologized for rock’n’roll.

He was truly a radical because his integrity was never flashy. He actually tried, as best he could, to emulate Christ, not the trends of religion that change throughout history. No one could tell him to cut his hair or stop helping homeless people. On top of a spirit of real compassion, Larry was enormously creative, and had a distinctive voice that could convey a stunning range of emotions like no one else. His mild-manned, quiet fortitude gave way to a soaring falsetto. He was also an amazing poet with a real gift for the small story in every ordinary moment. Though he lived with heart problems since he was a young man, he demonstrated the peace that passeth understanding. When his fears about the future surfaced, when anxieties took hold, he examined himself from the inside out to find the source of life and to spread that peace to us. He also had a dry, understated sense of humour that I loved. His ministry was a blessing to many.

Larry’s peculiar quietness provided some sort of humble unity with his audience. He could rock the flock, but his unassuming nature was at odds with being a ‘rock star’. Larry managed to dodge extreme fame by refusing to abandon the Christ-centred songs to go into secular rock like his colleagues, including Dylan and Clapton. He performed with The Doors. But Larry preferred the Solid Rock to the glitterati of rock and roll, and that’s exactly what he called his independent recording label. Still, he was famous enough to find his name alongside Elvis Presley, his other idol, in the Gospel Hall of Fame. And the Simpsons used one of his song titles in a comic book: “Why Should the Devil Have All the Good Music?”

When I was still a little girl, I went to see Larry Norman in upper state New York. He prayed with me, walked with me, after the show, as if he had all the time in the world. I never forgot that, and later, at a show in St. Catharines, Ontario, he recognized me. I couldn’t believe it. I was fortunate enough to see three of his shows in my life. I wish I’d seen fifty.

from I Hope I See You in Heaven, Larry Norman

“Now I’m sitting in this garden in the middle of my days
And my memories drift and harden as the years they slip away,
And I’ve been looking in this mirror at the age around my eyes
Time is such an earnest laborer, precision is his neighbor.
Lay my body in the ground, but let my spirit touch the sky.”

Until we meet again, my friend.

Visit the writer, Lorette C. Luzajic, at www.thegirlcanwrite.net.
You can order her book, The Astronaut’s Wife: Poems of Eros and Thanatos, through indigo or amazon online.