Plenty of famous musicians have gone from rags to riches right back to rags again. But while
some have managed to claw their way back to the top, others weren't so lucky.
Perhaps no one was a more unlikely superstar than Sammy Davis Jr. He
was a diminutive Black man, missing his left eye due to a car accident,
who sashayed his way into the hearts of audiences of all colors at the height of the Jim Crow era.
"I've really got no time to hate that vehemently back. I can't."
He was a member of the Rat Pack, the coolest of the cool kids, who palled around with Frank
Sinatra and Dean Martin. A star of the silver screen and a recording artist with multiple
top 20 hits. He was also a Black convert to Judaism, and was married to Swedish model May
Britt at a time when interracial relationships were still illegal in 23 states. In short,
he was a man who marched to the beat of his own drum and did it with style.
Upon Davis' death from cancer in 1990, it came to light that he'd been not just broke,
but in debt to the IRS to the tune of over $5 million.
"Even if you win, you don't win."
In a strange turn of events, a Hollywood man whose driver's license had recently gone
missing discovered that it had been used to rent a storage locker in his name. And in that locker,
authorities found a treasure trove of Davis' possessions and memorabilia.
Singer-songwriter Harry Nilsson wrote such iconic songs as "I Guess the Lord
Must Be in New York City," "Without Her," and "One" — which is, of course,
the loneliest number that you'll ever do. But he's primarily remembered for his inventive
interpretations of other artists' works — particularly Fred Neil's "Everybody's
Talkin'," which became the theme to the Academy Award-winning film Midnight Cowboy,
and Badfinger's "Without You," which went on to become one of the most covered songs
of all time. A favorite of the Beatles and a drinking buddy of John Lennon, Nilsson was
a singular artist whose financial troubles were due in large part to a shady manager.
In 1991, Nilsson — along with several other clients — discovered that manager
Cindy Sims had pocketed tons of their money, enough that she eventually pleaded guilty to
three counts of grand theft. Nilsson and his family were left destitute,
under siege from creditors and the IRS. Nilsson died of heart failure in 1994 at the
age of 52. Given that he wrote in a letter to the bankruptcy court that his biggest
fear in life was ending up broke, it's highly possible that contributed to his early death.
Not many session musicians find themselves showered with riches and notoriety,
but if ever one should have been, it's guitarist David Williams. He'd been in
the business since he was a teenager, backing up the likes of the Dells and
the Temptations. But his career really took off once he came to the attention of producer
Quincy Jones. Jones put Williams to work on Michael Jackson's Off the Wall and Thriller,
which of course went on to sell approximately six ker-billion copies. That's Williams playing
the ultra-funky, galloping riff in the middle of "Billie Jean." Aside from the King of Pop,
Williams worked with a murderers' row of music icons including Stevie Nicks, Paul McCartney,
Herbie Hancock, Madonna, Mariah Carey, and Whitney Houston, to name a few.
After experiencing a medical issue in March 2009, Williams was taken to
a hospital in Hampton, Virginia — where his family says he received insufficient
treatment due to a lack of insurance and resources. A family friend told Page Six,
"David, who supported [pop stars] onstage all those years,
[had] nothing. [His family] just wanted him to have some integrity,
and instead the hospital was despicable at best over his lack of insurance."
Williams passed away in the hospital at 58, a fate ill-suited to a music legend.
The death of legendary R&B vocalist Marvin Gaye was among the more shocking and sad in the
history of popular music. After years of dealing with a nagging drug habit, a massive tax bill,
and a serious career downturn, Gaye was on the comeback trail with his 1982 LP Midnight Love.
His hit single "Sexual Healing" went to No. 3 in early 1983. In April 1984,
however, his tumultuous relationship with his father, Marvin Gay Sr., took a tragic turn.
"It was a struggle between who was gonna be the head of that family. And theories. Life,
and religion, and everything else. And all
that blow and everything that's going on in there. In his house."
An argument in the family home ended with Gay Sr. shooting his son,
who died at the scene. It was the day before his 45th birthday.
Despite years of success as a recording artist,
Gaye died with no assets to speak of. All that Gaye had to leave to his 18-year-old son,
Marvin Gaye III, was a letter issued by the court granting him the power
to liquidate his father's non-existent assets and pay whatever bills he could.
Billie Holiday was one of the greatest vocalists of all time, and her story — as documented in
her autobiography Lady Sings the Blues — is the stuff of legend. Holiday went from being a sex
worker to singing with Count Basie's orchestra to solo sensation within the space of a dozen
years in the 1930s and '40s. Holiday became a formidable presence on the national music
scene not just in spite of the racial prejudice running rampant in the country at that time, but
while actively confronting it. Her 1939 recording "Strange Fruit," a haunting indictment of racism,
became her signature tune. But racism contributed to her tragic premature death.
"She always ordered an extra hamburger and she put that in her purse.”
“Because she never knew when she would not be able to be served."
Holiday was the target of a years-long campaign of harassment by the FBI,
which was at the time heavily focusing on users of street drugs, especially those of
color. Holiday struggled with a heroin habit that drained her finances and damaged her career. She
even served a brief prison sentence in the late '40s. According to the book Chasing the Scream:
The First and Last Days of the War on Drugs, the Bureau — led by the notoriously racist
Harry Anslinger — continued to hassle Holiday even as she lay dying in the
hospital. She died with only $750 in cash, which was reportedly strapped to her leg,
and which she'd intended to offer the nurses who had cared for her. She was only 44 years old.
There are powerhouse singers, and then there’s Whitney Houston, who arguably had the most power,
nuance, and range of virtually any singer not named Aretha Franklin. Her 1985 self-titled
debut album sold in the neighborhood of 13 million copies. And in the following decade,
she continued to rack up Benjamins, accolades, and Grammy awards at a dizzying pace. Unfortunately,
she also became known for her rocky marriage to fellow R&B superstar Bobby Brown,
and for her struggles with addiction, both of which made heavy demands on her bank account.
"First of all, let's get one thing straight:
crack is cheap. I've made too much money to ever smoke crack."
In 2012, Houston died after using cocaine and drowning in her hotel bathtub. Afterward, it
was widely reported that she'd incurred a massive amount of debt in her final years, far exceeding
the $20 million value of her estate. In the wake of her death, however, that value increased to the
extent that all her debts were satisfied, and then some. An ironic end to Houston's tragic story.
The younger brother of Bee Gees Robin, Maurice, and Barry Gibb, Andy Gibb became a superstar in
his own right during the disco era of the late '70s. Thanks in part to the songwriting talents
of his brother Barry, Gibb became the first male solo artist to have his first three singles shoot
to No. 1 on the pop chart. He also carved out an enviable career as a TV personality and appeared
in a Broadway production of Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. By the '80s, though,
Gibb's popularity had begun to wane. This and an out-of-control cocaine habit combined to leave
him in dire financial straits. In 1987, he filed for bankruptcy, and his net worth never recovered.
Having conquered his addiction after a stint at the Betty Ford Center, Gibb was preparing
to launch a comeback in 1988 — but it was not to be. Years of cocaine abuse had taken its toll
on his heart, and in March of that year, he was admitted to the hospital after falling ill. Just
days later, he was dead of heart inflammation brought on by a virus at only 30 years old.
In the 1940s, big bands ruled the popular music landscape, and clarinetist Woody Herman was a
bandleader extraordinaire. Herman was the leader of the First Herd, who contributed such standards
as "Northwest Passage" and "Caldonia" to the American songbook. Herman's success continued
for decades, with new iterations of his band — dubbed the Second Herd, the Third Herd,
and finally the Big New Herd — dabbling in new styles of music, up to and including
rock 'n roll. Herman was a three-time Grammy winner, and a consummate professional. In 1976,
he marked his 40th anniversary as a bandleader with a bash at Carnegie Hall. By the next decade,
though, his fortunes had completely reversed, thanks to irresponsible management.
In the late '70s, Herman popped up on the IRS radar. Apparently,
his manager had failed to pay taxes on the salaries paid to Herman's band. As a result,
Herman was forced to continue touring and performing well past the age when most folks
are enjoying their retirement, just to satisfy his debts. His health began to fail in the mid-'80s,
but he kept on working. In 1987, after more than 50 years entertaining crowds around the country,
Herman passed away from emphysema and pneumonia at the age of 74.
Few bassists have ever commanded the kind of attention onstage and respect offstage that
Jaco Pastorius did. A virtuoso of the fretless bass, Pastorius played with a slew of luminaries
including Weather Report, Pat Metheny, Joni Mitchell, and Blood, Sweat & Tears,
before dropping his first solo album in 1976. His style was singular — fluid, melodic, and muscular,
more in the vein of a lead instrument than one consigned to the rhythm section. In 1980,
he formed his band Word of Mouth, but it was only a few years later that Pastorius'
personal issues began conspiring to cut his career, and his life, short.
Mental health problems combined with substance abuse issues began to make
him an inconsistent and unreliable collaborator.
"It could be that the chemical imbalance ushers in action that would have not been taken
if you were living without it."
Several unfortunate incidents — including a drunken meltdown onstage at a 1984 jazz festival
— made the prospect of working with him less than enticing among his peers. As his status in the
music community declined, so did his means, and by 1987 he was living on the streets, constantly in
search of work. That year, while he was trying to sneak into a Fort Lauderdale nightclub,
Pastorius was involved in an altercation with a bouncer. He hit his head on the concrete,
fell into a coma for nine days, and died without regaining consciousness. He was 35 years old.
It may seem inconceivable that one of the most successful recording artists of all time would
be deeply in debt at the time of his death, but then, Michael Jackson was almost as famous for
his jaw-dropping spending habits as he was for his music. He of the expansive Neverland Ranch,
pet chimpanzee, and hyperbaric oxygen chamber didn't see the end coming. Jackson was only 50
when he died in 2009, in the midst of preparing for an epic comeback tour which might have helped
to right the financial ship. Jackson was being "treated" for insomnia by Dr. Conrad Murray,
who would eventually be convicted of involuntary manslaughter for providing Jackson with the
drugs that killed him — a lethal mixture of sedatives and the powerful anaesthetic propofol.
During a 2013 wrongful death trial brought against promoter AEG Live by Jackson's family,
forensic accountant William Ackerman testified that Jackson's spending had gotten him into an
ocean of debt. The King of Pop was spending $30 million per year on debt payments alone. During
the last eight years of Jackson's life, his debt had ballooned by $170 million,
and his total liability when he died was in the neighborhood of a half billion dollars. It
took three full years after his death for his estate to satisfy his financial obligations.
If you or anyone you know needs help with addiction issues,
help is available. Visit the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration
website or contact SAMHSA's National Helpline at 1-800-662-HELP (4357).