Latest news with #ManicStreetPreachers
Irish Times
20 hours ago
- Business
- Irish Times
Putting on an outdoor music festival in Ireland: ‘The bands saw they weren't going to be up on the back of a truck in Portlaoise'
When Philip Meagher, a solicitor and indie-rock fan, set out to create a music festival from scratch, he knew he had a lot to prove. He had no experience organising a big event featuring dozens of acts over multiple days – on a brand new festival site. But he was passionate about music and believed there was space in an already crowded calendar for something different. And so was born Forest Fest , a three-day event at Emo village, in Co Laois, that's laser-focused on concertgoers of a particular vintage. 'We were trying to fill a niche. We thought there was a market for a festival primarily focused on a more mature audience. And while we didn't want to go completely retro, we certainly wanted a nod towards artists on the road for a long time. READ MORE 'But we were very specific that we were only talking about bands that were still match fit – basically that they were bands that were still gigging actively, were producing new music, that were touring.' [ Forest Fest 2024 review: Golden oldies shine, Shane MacGowan's spirit inspires Opens in new window ] Meagher launched Forest Fest in 2022 with a largely Irish line-up. It has since expanded to include international acts such as Suede and James. This year's headliners, over the weekend of July 25th to 27th, include Franz Ferdinand and Manic Street Preachers . The challenge, says Meagher, was to put together a bill that reflected his vision of the festival as an event that appealed to over-30s yet did not wallow in nostalgia for nostalgia's sake. He didn't want to lean into the hellscape of glorified 1980s karaoke: the idea was to celebrate artists who were still forging ahead creatively rather than dining out on faded glories. 'The first year we were concentrating mostly on Irish acts. The good, big names, like The Stunning, Something Happens, the likes of those,' he says. 'In fairness to them, they were very open to taking a risk on a new festival. Obviously, they were taking a leap into the dark. We had to give certain assurances about the level of production and staging we were going to provide. 'When they saw the production team we had put together, and they saw the specification of the sound system, staging, the lighting, etc, that we were going to put in place … that was of huge comfort to them. They weren't going to turn up and be up on the back of a truck in the square in Portlaoise. That's with the greatest of respect to bands that play on the back of a truck.' These are challenging times for music festivals. In the UK last year more than 60 festivals were cancelled or postponed, up from 36 in the previous 12 months. In Ireland, where the circuit is obviously a lot smaller, nine such events were nevertheless cancelled last year amid rising overheads in music and ongoing cost-of-living pressures. Those tensions are felt across the industry. In the case of bigger festivals there is an ever more desperate scramble to secure one of the elite acts seen as having the star power to headline a major outdoor concert – think Lana Del Rey, who played Glastonbury in 2023, or Olivia Rodrigo, a headliner in 2025. It's a short list – and everyone wants them. Elite act: Lana Del Rey at Glastonbury in 2023. Photograph: Joseph Okpako/WireImage 'We're seeing a trend of festivals booking acts earlier. Primavera Sound , in Barcelona, announced its line-up in October, and it takes place in June this year, which means negotiations would have started before their last festival even happened,' Finlay Johnson of the Association for Electronic Music , a New York-based organisation with member companies in more than 40 countries, said in January. 'Others have followed suit. Partly, they want tickets to be on sale for as long as possible, but they also want to secure headliners, as there are fewer acts available.' Those headaches do not apply to smaller festivals – at least not in the same way. Still, regardless of scale, an attractive line-up is more important than ever. It can be the difference between a good year and an underwhelming one. If anything, such decisions are even more crucial when it comes to more intimate festivals. 'We need the headliner name on the board to excite people, get a bit of hype going,' says Katie Twohig, who, with her husband, Eoin Hally, programmes the three-stage, 800-capacity When Next We Meet festival , at Raheen House in Clonmel, Co Tipperary, which this year takes place on June 7th and 8th. Headliners: Pillow Queens are at this year's When Next We Meet. Photograph: Debbie Hickey/Getty The main acts include Villagers , Conor O'Brien's thoughtful indie songwriter project, and the postpunks Pillow Queens, alongside the cult alternative artists Paddy Hanna, Skinner and Morgana. Having a big name is important, and not only in terms of shifting tickets or drawing an audience from outside the locality. They also set the tone for the rest of the bill, Twohig says. The idea is to attract acts that have a complementary sound. If When Next We Meet booked the noisy Dublin postpunks The Scratch, for example, they'd have to ensure the rest of the day's line-up had a similar sensibility. The goal is to mould the feel of the weekend around those headliners. It all starts with them. 'We're absolutely thrilled where things landed this year. Villagers are the main band closing on Sunday. But also Pillow Queens, on the Saturday night, they'll be headlining. We feel like they're strongest line-up to date, and a lovely balance in terms of genres as well. And Pillow Queens probably have a younger audience, so it's a lovely scope there,' Twohig says. 'Sometimes it's hard to get that balance right. There's no end to the amount of great artists that are out there. When you're curating something, it takes time to get that balance right. Once you book one artist it narrows down your choices, I suppose, in the lower tiers on the programming. We're very happy with how it turned out this year. But some years we've been stressing over about getting the right fit.' As with so much else in the music industry, putting together a good festival bill is helped by having a solid network of contacts, says Emmet Condon, who promotes live music under the Homebeat banner and programmes Another Love Story , an intimate festival at the 18th-century Killyon Manor, in Co Meath, which has a capacity of about 2,000 people. (This year's festival is on August 23rd and 24th.) In the music business there are people who get involved because of the romance, and then there are people who are hard-nosed businesspeople. We tend to try and work with or find acts and people who have the same heart that we have about doing it — Emmet Condon Having started in 2014, Another Love Story remains the best-kept secret of the Irish festival year, though it has attracted many high-profile artists. This year the headliners are the Barcelona producer and DJ John Talabot and the Co Wicklow songwriter Fionn Regan . 'I have been running shows as Homebeat for 15 or 16 years now. I've been active as a booker and a promoter for a long time. I've worked as a booker for things like Body & Soul,' says Condon, referring to the Westmeath festival last held in 2023. 'Over a span of time you build up contacts, and people trust what you do.' The bigger acts Another Love Story has attracted, according to Condon, include Talabot and, last year, the German electro supergroup Modeselektor. It has also hosted people like Alabaster DePlume, the acclaimed jazz and spoken-word artist, and the famed fiddler Martin Hayes, 'who would be luminaries in their own right'. It takes work to reel in these international artists, who may have festival offers from around the world. 'For us to attract them to the smaller stage, we have to work pretty hard to deliver what we do each year. And then to sell the dream of the thing to those people. 'In the music business there are people who almost inevitably get involved because of the romance, and then there are people who are hard-nosed businesspeople,' who want to make money. 'We tend to try and work with or find those acts and those people who have the same heart that we have about doing it.' With smaller festivals, there are no blockbusting stars to draw the audience. It has to be about something more than that. 'It started as a relatively small thing and has grown into a relatively substantial adventure each year,' Condon says about Another Love Story. 'As it's grown, as a booker, the opportunity has been to increasingly fill the space and create a narrative of sorts through music. 'We're not a massive festival that has massive headline acts, obviously. My favourite thing about the whole thing is the spreadsheet that I get to keep and hone – like my baby – from one September, when one festival ends, and straight over to the next part of the year. 'It's a joy to create a mood piece, using music throughout the whole weekend, and to kind of create an arc of experience and the soundtrack that fits around it.' In the case of Forest Fest, which has a 12,000-person capacity across three stages, Philip Meagher had a clear vision: a festival that would appeal to those whose wayward youth is well behind them and are perhaps starting to weary of megafestivals. He had worked as a solicitor for the late John Reynolds, the much-respected Irish promoter who established Electric Picnic in 2004. It was being at that festival, which has drifted towards a younger audience over the past 15 years, that made Meagher decide there was a niche for music lovers who had aged out of Stradbally weekend. 'The main acts that we have are obviously of a very, very high standard. They have a huge international standing. The curated bands that would support them would be of a similar quality but wouldn't quite have, perhaps, the international standing that the main acts would have. 'And that would filter down into the other supporting stages, where we would have acts slightly smaller in standing and then supported by the best of up-and-coming Irish and international acts,' he says. 'We have very, very strong new acts coming from the UK, coming from Ireland, coming from the US – giving them a chance. And they're appreciative of the fact that a lot of them are getting their first big festival experience – and playing on the same bill as the likes of the Manics and Travis and Dandy Warhols. 'They're going to meet them all and learn from them and see what it's like to be a rock god for the weekend.'
The Guardian
2 days ago
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
Pulp: More review – anthems and rage for the next life stage
Time has been particularly kind to Pulp. As Jarvis Cocker points out on Spike Island, the lead single from their first album in 24 years, their 2002 split went largely unlamented: they had already succeeded in considerably reducing the size of their audience with 1998's claustrophobic album This Is Hardcore and 2001's Scott Walker-produced We Love Life. An ostensibly valedictory greatest hits album spent a single week in the lower reaches of the Top 75. And the year after their demise, John Harris's Britpop history The Last Party noted tartly that Pulp's music had 'rather dated'. 'The universe shrugged, then moved on,' sings Cocker, which is a perhaps more poetic reiteration of what he said at the time: the greatest hits album was 'a real silent fart' and 'nobody was that arsed, evidently'. But subsequent years significantly burnished their memory. It was frequently noted that, besides the Manic Street Preachers' A Design for Life, Common People was the only significant hit of the Britpop years that might be described as a protest song, a bulwark against the accusation that the era had nothing more substantial to offer than flag-waving and faux-gorblimey. At a time when ostensibly 'alternative' rock bands had seemed suddenly desperate for mainstream acceptance, Pulp had become huge by sticking up for outsiders and weirdos. Mis-Shapes, for example, hymned the kinds of people one suspected some of Oasis's fans would have happily thumped. They had also been quick to call time on rock's disastrous association with New Labour, releasing the scathing Cocaine Socialism a year after Tony Blair was elected. If there weren't a huge number of takers for Cocker's musical solo projects, his national treasure status seemed to grow and grow. Pulp reformed in 2011 to general rejoicing, and again in 2022, by which point they could reasonably claim to be the only major Britpop band exerting an obvious influence on current artists (clearly Sports Team and, latterly, Welly both have Pulp in their DNA) and note that their infamous flop greatest hits collection had finally gone platinum. But there's a huge difference between playing the old favourites live and making a new album. If you don't want to sully your catalogue with a photocopy of past glories, you'd better have something new to say, something the oddly equivocal tone of Spike Island and indeed the Cocker quote accompanying More – 'this is the best we can do' – seems to acknowledge. In fact, like Blur on last year's acclaimed The Ballad of Darren, Pulp have found a way to successfully apply their longstanding approach to a very different stage of life when, as Cocker puts it on Slow Jam, 'you've gone from all you that could be to all that you once were'. A man who once fantasised about cuckoldry as an act of class rage-fuelled revenge now finds himself addressing how divorce impacts on your potential to find love again on Background Noise (in a characteristic touch, this existential meditation takes place in the middle of a shopping centre). Tina effectively transposes the kind of Pulp song that ruminates on missed romantic opportunities – Babies, Disco 2000, Inside Susan – into middle-age, the frustration sharpened by the fact that it's 40 years since that particular opportunity sailed. Similarly, Cocker was always exceptionally skilled at drawing confused, youthful relationships and at making capital from the grubby mundane aspects of sex. He still is, although on Grown Ups, the relationship is depicted as taking place on a planet now out of reach, 'because the rocket doesn't have enough fuel' to get back – to youth, presumably – and on My Sex, all the grubby mundanity has taken on a pressing tone as libido dims: 'Hurry 'cos with sex, we're running out of time.' Given how strong the imprint of their frontman's voice is, it seems almost pointless to note that the contents of More sound like Pulp – if Cocker was unexpectedly recruited as lead singer of Cannibal Corpse, they'd probably sound like Pulp too – but suffice to say the music here does all the things a longstanding fan might expect. There are melodies derived from Gallic chanson, tinny electronics, rhythms that lean towards disco, sprechgesang verses that build into anthemic choruses and a lot of flourishes that recall 70s pop (there's also a surprising amount of violin redolent of long-departed member Russell Senior). More importantly, it does these things really well: the epic A Hymn of the North is as heart-rending a Scott Walker-influenced ballad as Pulp have ever recorded, while if they had released the joyous Got to Have Love as their post-Different Class comeback single in 1998, rather than Help the Aged, their commercial fortunes might have taken a different shape. More certainly isn't going to convince anyone who doesn't already like Pulp to change their mind, but then anyone who expects a reformed band's first album in nearly 25 years to do that is perhaps grappling with wildly unreasonable expectations. It's more likely that a reformed band's new album might be a placeholder, filled with songs that pad out the hits live, but provoke a rush on the bars and loos in the process. That definitely isn't the case with More. If this is the best Pulp can do, it's more than good enough.
Daily Mail
26-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Daily Mail
Legendary Welsh rocker looks unrecognisable with a greying beard more than three decades after his iconic band's chart-topping heyday - but do YOU know who he is?
The greying beard wasn't fooling anyone as this celebrated rock icon ventured out over the weekend - at least not those with longer memories. With thick facial hair and a salt and pepper hairline, the 56-year old singer and musician looked vastly different as he stepped out almost thirty years after telling us in no uncertain terms that Everything Must Go. Back in the 1990s his legendary band filled stadiums across Europe while enjoying enormous critical and commercial success with a string of hit albums and singles. But much of that success played out against a tragic backdrop after one of their founding members disappeared without trace in 1995. Three decades on, the mystery surrounding his disappearance remains unsolved, but the band he played such a pivotal role in establishing is still making music. In February the group climbed to number two on the UK Album Chart with their fifteenth LP, Critical Thinking - but can you guess who its bearded front-man is? From A-list scandals and red carpet mishaps to exclusive pictures and viral moments, subscribe to the Daily Mail's new showbiz newsletter to stay in the loop. That's right - it's James Dean Bradfield of Manic Street Preachers! Hailing from Blackwood in Wales, the band were an instrumental part of the Cool Cymru movement in the '90s and their albums Everything Must Go in 1996 and This Is My Truth Tell Me Yours two years later gained them a cult following. Lead singer and guitarist Bradfield was inspired by the likes of soft rock group ELO and post-punk rockers The Clash when he formed Manic Street Preachers with his cousin Sean Moore and best friends Nicky Wire and Miles Woodward, who left the band in 1988. Guitarist and singer songwriter Richey Edwards joined the following year after originally working as the band's driver and roadie. Edwards famously disappeared without trace on February 1, 1995, the day before he and Bradfield were scheduled to fly to the United States for a promotional tour in support of their then current album, The Holy Bible. To this day his disappearance remains a mystery, with the musician officially declared dead in absentia on 24 November 2008, nine months after his 40th birthday. The group's hits include If You Tolerate This Your Children Will Be Next and The Masses Against The Classes, both of which made it to the top of the UK singles charts. Bradfield has released two solo projects alongside his work with the band and has two children with the group's former PR agent who he married in Italy in 2004. Featuring on The Chris Moyles Show in February, the singer joined band-mate Wire in reflecting on the struggles of a band in the modern age and the crazy times they spent touring with Oasis. He said: 'I think it's a famous Orson Welles quote where he kind of said, "Some days acting is like driving a tricycle through a barrel full of molasses." Some days it's just rubbish. It is. 'But you know that if you just hang in there, you know, keep in the game, stay in the game, you know, the good days will just come. It's as simple as that, really. 'I'm not trying to be wise or, you know, I'm not trying to be David Carradine wandering through the desert with a bit of wisdom. But, kind of, if you just hang in there, it comes, you know?' Hailing from Blackwood in Wales, the band were an instrumental part of the Cool Cymru movement in the 90s and Bradfield provided lead vocals Lead singer and guitarist Bradfield was inspired by the likes of soft rock group ELO and post-punk rockers The Clash when he formed Manic Street Preachers
Times
21-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Times
James Dean Bradfield: ‘I stopped drinking so there's no partying'
Bradfield, 56, was born in Newport, southeast Wales, and in 1986 formed what became Manic Street Preachers while still at Oakdale Comprehensive. The guitarist Richey Edwards, who joined in 1988, went missing in 1995 and was declared legally dead in 2008. The band have released 15 studio albums and have had two UK No 1 singles: If You Tolerate This Your Children Will Be Next in 1998 and The Masses Against the Classes in 2000. Bradfield lives in Cardiff with his wife and their son and daughter. There is a routine to my days but it can be broken if I wish. I never wake up later than 6.30am. For breakfast it's usually eggs or mushrooms on toast and strong tea. Or I'll revert to
Yahoo
18-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
13 Famous People Who Just Up And Disappeared One Day (And Are Now Presumed Dead)
Warning: this post includes mentions of addiction, depression, and suicide. Edwards was the intense, brilliant lyricist for the Manic Street Preachers, penning most of the lyrics of their iconic 1994 album The Holy Bible. Just before a U.S. promo tour, the 27-year-old vanished. WHAT HAPPENED: Just one day before he was scheduled to fly to the U.S., on Feb. 1, 1995, the 27-year-old Edwards went missing. He was reportedly seen by fans and a cab driver in the following days, but his car was eventually found near the Severn Bridge, a known suicide site. At the time, Edwards was struggling with depression, self-harm, anorexia, and alcoholism. Still, no body was ever found. In 2008, over a decade later, his family had him legally presumed dead, but as their lawyer explained, it was more a move to get his affairs in order, saying, "That's not the same as an acceptance that he is dead." WHY IT'S SO MYSTERIOUS: In the years since, people have claimed to spot the musician all over the world — Goa, the Canary Islands — always under a new name, always just out of reach. Some point to his fascination with disappearing as a concept. Before he vanished, he reportedly gave the book Novel with Cocaine to a friend and asked them to read the introduction, where the author wrote about vanishing from society. A 2019 book on Edwards entitled Withdrawn Traces, written with the cooperation of his sister Rachel Edwards, echoes this, saying that he'd shown interest in the idea of faking one's death in the years before he was last seen. As Rachel told GQ, 'We know no more now than we did 25 years ago.' Richard John Bingham, aka Lord Lucan, was a charming, wealthy, and scandal-ridden British aristocrat. A professional gambler and regular at London's poshest clubs, Lucan was known for living lavishly, despite a crumbling marriage and big-time money problems (he was a gambler, remember). WHAT HAPPENED: On the night of November 7, 1974, Lucan's children's nanny, 29-year-old Sandra Rivett, was bludgeoned to death in the family home. That same night Lucan's estranged wife Veronica stumbled into a pub, covered in blood. She said she too had been attacked and identified her husband as the assailant. Lucan fled the scene, abandoned his car near a port, and was never seen again. WHY IT'S SO MYSTERIOUS: Is this a tale as old as time, of a rich guy escaping accountability for his wrongdoing thanks to big bucks and friends in high places? Maybe. Theories abound. Some believe his aristocratic friends helped him escape to Africa or South America. Over the years, there have been dozens of alleged sightings — in New Zealand, Australia, and even India — but none confirmed. Others, however, say he died by by jumping into the water near the port? He was declared legally dead in 1999, but rumors have persisted that he lived under a new identity for decades. Wildly, just last year, Sandra's son Neil and an investigator tracked down a 90-year-old man in Australia they believe to be Lucan living in secret, but have yet to convince local authorities. Whatever the truth, Lord Lucan remains Britain's most famous fugitive. Newhall Follett came from a family of very bright people (her sister, for example, was the first woman graduate student at Princeton), but she was the brightest of them all. She wrote poetry at age 4 and in 1927, and at just 12, she published her first book, The House Without Windows, to critical acclaim (The Saturday Review of Literature called the book 'almost unbearably beautiful'). Her next novel came out two years later to more critical acclaim. But fame faded, her father (and champion) left the family, and her life slowly unraveled. WHAT HAPPENED: In 1939, at age 25, after a fight with her husband (whom she suspected of an affair), Barbara walked out of their apartment with the equivalent of just under $700 in today's dollars. She left no note. No trace. Her husband didn't report her missing for two weeks. She was never seen again. WHY IT'S SO MYSTERIOUS: Some believe Barbara died by suicide. Others think she was murdered — possibly by her husband, who acted strangely and avoided questioning. Of course, a pretty young woman walking alone at night with a decent chunk of change in her pocket was at risk from other threats, too. For years, her mother tried to reopen the case but got nowhere. She also was very suspicious of Barbara's husband, and wrote to him, "All of this silence on your part looks as if you had something to hide concerning Barbara's disappearance ... You cannot believe that I shall sit idle during my last few years and not make whatever effort I can to find out whether Bar is alive or dead, whether, perhaps, she is in some institution suffering from amnesia or nervous breakdown." In 2019, writer Daniel Mills published his theory that police did find Barbara's body in 1946, but misidentified it as someone else. If he's right, and Barbara did indeed die by suicide, then a life that began with such incredible promise ended in a deeply sad way. Rockefeller was American royalty. The 23-year-old son of New York Governor and future Vice President of the United States Nelson Rockefeller (who would die while having sex, as described in this post), was an art collector, anthropologist, and heir to one of the richest families in U.S. history. To his credit, he often turned his back on a life of luxury to seek out adventure. WHAT HAPPENED: In 1961, Michael and a colleague were on an expedition in Papua New Guinea to collect Indigenous art when their pontoon boat capsized, stranding them miles from shore in a catamaran. After drifting a while, Michael tired of waiting to be rescued and reportedly said, "I think I can make it," then paddled off toward land using empty gas cans as flotation. His colleague watched him until he disappeared on the horizon. He was never seen again. WHY IT'S SO MYSTERIOUS: Despite a two-week search for Rockefeller involving ships, airplanes, helicopters, and thousands of locals scouring the coasts and swamps, no trace of the heir was found. At first, it was assumed he drowned, was eaten by a shark or 15-foot crocodile, or died from exposure (after all, he was 14 miles from shore when he set out for it). But New Guinea's coastal tribes had a complex history with outsiders, including brutal colonial violence. Rumors quickly spread that Michael had made it to shore… only to be killed and cannibalized by members of the Asmat tribe, with his bones being turned into weapons and fishing gear. Over the decades, several documentaries and books — including Savage Harvest — have explored this theory. One even claims Michael assimilated into tribal life and lived in secret. But despite deep dives by journalists and even the Rockefeller family (using their deep pockets to try to get to the bottom of what happened), no definitive proof has ever emerged. Arnold was everything you'd expect from a New York socialite: elegant, well-educated, extravagantly rich, and constantly in the public eye. She dreamed of being a writer, but kept her failed publishing attempts a secret from her disapproving parents. And then — one day — she was WHAT HAPPENED: On Dec. 12, 1910, the 25-year-old left her family's Upper East Side home to buy a new evening gown. She stopped by a bookstore and bought a copy of the short-story collection Engaged Girl Sketches, then chatted briefly with a friend on Fifth Avenue. That was around 2 p.m. And then…nothing. She vanished in broad daylight, on one of Manhattan's busiest streets, never to be seen again. Her family waited a full day before going to the police — not because they weren't worried, but because they were embarrassed. Her father even hired Pinkerton detectives to look for her in secret, worried that a public scandal could hurt her reputation. But weeks passed. Then months. No body, no note, no confirmed sightings. WHY IT'S SO MYSTERIOUS: Over the years, countless theories emerged. Some believed Dorothy died by suicide over her failed writing career or an unrequited love (could the book she bought about engagements be a clue?). Others suggested she died during a botched abortion, and her body had been quietly disposed of. A few speculated she was murdered in Central Park or kidnapped right off the street. One popular theory? She faked her own death and fled (perhaps to Europe) to start over. She had, after all, bristled against her parents' protectiveness (her father, for example, had refused to let her get an apartment of her own). But despite alleged sightings of her everywhere from Philadelphia to Texas (later discredited), and at least two women who claimed to be Dorothy (all proven to be impostors), there simply was no proof of this. Her heartbroken mother died in 1928, still hoping for answers, while her father, who dismissed the idea that his daughter would ever "disgrace" the family by sneaking off without a trace, passed away a few years later. In one of his final interviews, he declared, "After all these years, I am convinced that Dorothy is dead." Sullivan was a folk-rock musician in the style of Gram Parsons or Nick Drake who appeared in the classic film Easy Rider. His 1969 debut album U.F.O. was filled with lyrics about desert roads, aliens, and leaving Earth behind — the kind of stuff that didn't exactly scream "chart-topper," lol — but it built a cult following years later. Above, Jim appears in the 1968 film The Pickup. WHAT HAPPENED: In March 1975, Sullivan left L.A. to drive to Nashville in hopes of kickstarting his music career. En route, he checked into a motel in Santa Rosa, New Mexico, then bought a bottle of vodka and drove out of town. He was spotted 26 miles away at a then never again. His car was later found abandoned with his wallet, ID, guitar, and belongings still inside. WHY IT'S SO MYSTERIOUS: Locals said he seemed disoriented in the days before he vanished. Theories ranged from dehydration or a mental health crisis to foul play (perhaps by the mafia). But no remains were ever found, and no one reported seeing him after that day. The surreal part is how closely Sullivan's real-life disappearance mirrors the themes of his music. His album U.F.O. opens with a track about a man who drives into the desert and disappears. The eerie coincidence made fans wonder: was Jim trying to vanish? Did he have a breakdown? Or — as some like to joke — was he actually abducted by aliens (hey, it's as good a guess as any)? Nearly 50 years later, there are still zero clues about what happened. His old friend Al Dobbs told the New York Times, 'I think he stumbled into something or someone that was unforgiving. It's kind of poetic to picture him still walking out there somewhere. But something happened.' Converse was writing and recording deeply personal songs in the '50s — way, way before the singer-songwriter era made that cool. Her voice was intimate and her lyrics literary, but her life became increasingly complicated as the years rolled by. WHAT HAPPENED: After years of struggling to find an audience, Connie left New York in the early '60s, moved in with family, and fell into a depression. In August 1974, she wrote letters to friends and family saying she needed to "make a new life," packed up her Volkswagen Beetle, and drove away. She was 50. No one has heard from her since. WHY IT'S SO MYSTERIOUS: In the decades since, a new generation fell in love with her melancholy brilliance. But what happened to her remains unknown. The letters she left behind could be interpreted as suicide notes, but they also mentioned returning to New York and her music career. And, if they were suicide notes, why was her body never found? Or her car, for that matter? Ten years later, her brother contacted a private investigator about searching for her, but decided to let it be; if she wanted to start a new life, that was her right. Here's hoping that is what happened, and there's not a darker explanation. Fawcett was the real-life inspiration for Indiana Jones — a British explorer obsessed with the uncharted Amazon and the belief that a lost ancient civilization was hidden within it. He called it the City of "Z." WHAT HAPPENED: In 1925, the 57-year-old Fawcett set out into the Brazilian jungle with his 21-year-old son Jack and Jack's best friend Raleigh with big plans to finally locate the city he'd spent decades theorizing about. 'We shall return,' Fawcett told reporters ahead of the trip, 'and we shall bring back what we seek.' However, after sending a final message via courier from a remote outpost, the entire party vanished. No confirmed trace of any of them was ever found. WHY IT'S SO MYSTERIOUS: Over 100 would-be rescuers and adventurers followed in Fawcett's footsteps in the years that followed. Some vanished themselves. Others were killed by tribes in the region. A few came back convinced Fawcett had died, or with wild stories of seeing him alive and living among Indigenous people, but none of these accounts could be verified. So what DID happen? Well, let's be real for a second — dying was easy in the jungle. Between piranha-infested waters, dangerous jaguars, and the risk of malaria, parasitic infection, and starvation, there were all kinds of potential tragic ends for the group. Some believe hostile tribes killed him. That's possible. In 2005, Kalapalo Indians claimed that their oral history passed down that Fawcett made the mistake of crossing into the land of the warlike tribe, the Kalapalos. And then there are the diehards who still believe he found the mythical city... and stayed there. You know what? Let's go with that happy explanation, especially because it sounds the most like the ending of an Indiana Jones adventure. Earhart was already a global icon when, in 1937, she set out to become the first woman to fly around the world. Smart, daring, and fiercely independent, she was the face of American aviation — and one of the most famous people in the world. But she's on this list, so you already know the trip didn't end well. WHAT HAPPENED: On July 2, 1937, somewhere over the Pacific Ocean near Howland Island, contact with Earhart's plane was lost. She and navigator Fred Noonan were never seen again. Despite one of the largest and most expensive search efforts ever launched at the time, neither wreckage nor bodies were recovered. WHY IT'S SO MYSTERIOUS: There are, of course, lots of theories about what happened. Some say she ran out of fuel and crashed into the sea. Others believe she crash-landed on a nearby island and died as a castaway. Then there's the theory that she was captured and killed by the Japanese after accidentally flying into territory they controlled. The thing is, no matter how hard people try, no one ever seems able to crack the mystery (recently, an ocean exploration company claimed to have found her plane turned out to be a rock formation, lol). This year, there will supposedly be an expedition to Nikumaroro Island, based on a theory that Earhart's plane landed on the island's reef and later sank. The team plans to investigate an underwater anomaly, dubbed the "Taraia Object," which may be the missing aircraft. Hmm. I'll believe it when I see it. Holt was Prime Minister of Australia and a close ally of United States President Lyndon B. Johnson when he went for a swim and vanished into the ocean. WHAT HAPPENED: On December 17, 1967, Holt went for a swim at Cheviot Beach near Portsea, Victoria. It wasn't a great idea — the conditions were rough and the currents strong. Holt swam out to sea and then disappeared from The government launched one of the largest search operations in Australian history, but no body ever washed ashore; nothing turned up. WHY IT'S SO MYSTERIOUS: Sure, it's most likely he drowned. But Holt said he knew the swimming spot like the back of his hand (in fact, the above photo is of him in the water at the same spot where he disappeared), so conspiracy theories quickly piled up. Some believe he faked his death to run off with a lover. Others claimed he was a Chinese spy who was picked up by a submarine (don't bet your life savings on that one being true). More grounded theories point to the rough conditions and strong the fact that Holt had a history of heart issues. But still — how does the leader of a country vanish during a casual swim with zero trace? Miller was one of the world's biggest stars, famous as the bandleader whose swing music defined a generation. But when World War II began, he enlisted as a captain in the U.S. Army Air Forces and led the Army Air Forces Band with a mission to boost morale. "This was a lot of hard work, a lot of hard times, a lot of bad, dangerous traveling," according to NPR's Noah Adams. It worked, though, and Miller was promoted to General just a few months before he was last seen. WHAT HAPPENED: On December 15, 1944, Miller boarded a small aircraft in England headed for Paris, where his band was scheduled to perform. Somewhere over the English Channel, the plane vanished. No mayday call. No crash site. No bodies. Just gone. WHY IT'S SO MYSTERIOUS: In truth, this one is probably the least mysterious disappearance on the list, as bad weather most likely brought down the plane. But no wreckage was ever found, and wartime secrecy muddied the records. One of the most famous people in the world did Rumors flew in the aftermath: some said the plane was hit by friendly fire, while others spread a very far-fetched conspiracy theory that he died in a Paris brothel and the plane story was a cover-up. (That one has zero evidence, but it's out there.) Officially, Glenn Miller was lost in a wartime accident, and we can only guess at exactly how he met his demise. Sadly, his fans learned of his tragic fate on Christmas Day, 1944. Bierce was one of America's greatest writers, a journalist and author who survived the Civil War and wrote the classic The Devil's Dictionary, which defines "peace" as "a period of cheating between two periods of fighting." WHAT HAPPENED: In 1913, at age 71, Bierce joined Pancho Villa's rebel army in Mexico as a war correspondent. He wrote a few letters from the front — one ending with the line "To be a gringo in Mexico — ah, that is euthanasia!" — and then stopped writing. Completely. There were no confirmed sightings, no remains, and no definitive reports of his fate. WHY IT'S SO MYSTERIOUS: An official investigation by U.S. consular officials was conducted, but it only confused things further. Some say he was killed during battle (most likely the siege of Ojinaga in January 1914). Others think Villa's men executed him. And some believe he was never in Mexico at all — that his letters from Mexico were subterfuge to allow him to secretly die by suicide at the Grand Canyon. The truth will likely never be known. Zeta Acosta was a larger-than-life figure: a Chicano activist, lawyer, novelist, and the real-life inspiration for Dr. Gonzo in Hunter S. Thompson's Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas (played by Benicio Del Toro in the movie). A firebrand in every sense, this dude was always in the middle of something intense. Above, Denver artist Adolfo Romero paints a mural of Oscar Zeta Acosta in 2018. WHAT HAPPENED: In 1974, Acosta — who had become increasingly erratic and involved with drugs — traveled to Mexico where he called his son and told him he was "about to board a boat full of white snow." That was the last anyone ever heard from him. WHY IT'S SO MYSTERIOUS: What does "about to board a boat full of white snow" mean? Cocaine? His buddy Hunter S. Thompson seemed to think it was something like that, saying Acosta probably "ate too much peyote and walked off a cliff." Later, though, he investigated his friend's disappearance and speculated he might have been killed by drug dealers or was the target of a political assassination. But no one really knows. Some think he faked his death to escape his mounting legal troubles and public burnout. His son Marco said, "The body was never found, but we surmise that, probably, knowing the people he was involved with, he ended up mouthing off, getting into a fight, and getting killed." Maybe it is as simple as his son says. But like all of these stories, there just isn't a definitive answer as to what the heck happened.
