When Chris Cornell stepped onto a New York stage in May 2017 and delivered a fragile, aching rendition of “Nothing Compares 2 U”, the room fell silent. It wasn’t flashy. It wasn’t overproduced. It was just Cornell, a microphone, and a voice that sounded like it had lived a thousand lifetimes. Less than 24 hours later, he was gone. But as history keeps reminding us, voices like that don’t fade quietly.

R&B has always understood one universal truth: romance is beautiful right up until it absolutely isn’t. For every candlelit slow jam, there’s a tear-soaked anthem reminding you why your phone is on Do Not Disturb. Heartbreak doesn’t just live in this genre—it headlines it.

By December 1969, the 60s had already delivered moon landings, assassinations, protests, and a total rewrite of what pop culture could look like. But when The Rolling Stones rolled into Northern California for a free show at Altamont Speedway, what was supposed to be a triumphant celebration curdled into catastrophe. By the end of the night, a young man was dead—and the flower-powered optimism of the era felt like it had slipped through everyone’s fingers.

For a stretch there, musicians couldn’t stop name-dropping him. Blues singers blamed him. Rock bands partied with him. Country artists outran him. The 60s and 70s especially treated him like a recurring guest star.

Vanilla Ice rose to global fame with “Ice Ice Baby” in 1990, but sampling disputes, authenticity questions, and media backlash quickly derailed his career in one of pop culture’s fastest reversals.

Baby Boomers technically span from 1946 to 1964. Which means the oldest were already paying bills when the youngest were still discovering FM radio with the bedroom door closed. So when younger Boomers start reminiscing about “their bands,” older Boomers sometimes respond with a polite smile that says, ‘I have absolutely no memory of this.’