By Any Other Name

And (very) Small Tribute to Marianne Faithfull

The British music world is genius when it renames its pop stars, from Terence Nelhams Wright to Adam Faith, Ronald Wycherley to Billy Fury, Harry Rodger Webb to Cliff Richard, and David Bowie to Ziggy Stardust. The Americans seem to have kept their names realistic to take a naturalistic approach to stardom, but the British are attracted to the superficial aspect of pop. It’s interesting to note that authors are more likely to keep their original names, but they are also named wisely by their parents or the powers-to-be. Thomas Pynchon, Oscar Wilde, Ernest Hemingway, Dorothy Parker, Robert Benchley, Frank O’Hara, and the Coopers of the World, meaning Dennis Cooper and Jeremy Cooper (both favorite writers), have great sounding names.

Jack Kerouac is another good-sounding name. Johnny Kerouac, or Henry Kerouac, doesn’t ring bells and doesn’t swing like Jack. As a great writer, I suspect you are born with an outstanding name. When I think of it, I only like artists (of all sorts) if they have good names in the first place. There is one music artist who I admire greatly, John Ray, and he is famous as Johnnie Ray. The only other Johnnie I know is Johnnie Walker of Johnnie Walker Whisky fame. Vernon Elvis Presley named his son Elvis, which was an unusual name in the first place. I tried to trace the name, and all I came up with is that it may have come from Irish roots, linked to Alva, meaning bright or white.

The British seem to have complicated given names, so they had to be reinvented to become Adam Faith or Billy Fury. As I write, I’m listening to Faith’s A Message to Martha (Kentucky Bluebird), written by Burt Bacharach and Hal David and recorded and released in 1964. Dionne Warwick did her version, Message To Michael, in 1966, with re-written lyrics by David. Both versions are masterful, and Burt and Hal personally touched Dionne and her version. But perhaps because his name is Faith, I have a special attachment to A Message to Martha.

I often think of my name, Tosh, and what it brought to my plate on the table. I can’t imagine using another name for any purpose. I genuinely think my life would have turned differently if I had another name. For one, Tosh was and is always a conversation starter among strangers. I usually tell them that the British slang word, Tosh, means nonsense. The word's origin is unknown but can be traced to the late 19th century. However, according to Merriam-Webster, its first known use was in 1528. To use in a sentence, according to the Dictionary, People who believe such tosh have the analytical skills of a toddler. I like to think that my parents named me after this British slang. Parents create the child, and it is essential that they name that child (very) well.

Just as I was about to post this piece, I heard Marianne Faithfull had passed away at 78. She is another artist who has/had a perfect-sounding name, and of course, Faithfull's family name is something of great beauty, just like her.