Kevin Gilbert (with Toy Matinee) - Last Plane Out

Kevin Gilbert's personal misadventures do not define the genius of his musical legacy or persona. He was an amazing composer, performer and producer who was royally screwed over by the business (especially by the one person who he boosted into stardom). It's a Greek tragedy made real. He was the real deal, and he got fucked over in a most spectacular way (Cintra Wilson tells the story so much better than I ever could). The guilty parties know exactly who they are.

I prefer to remember Kevin Gilbert as the great artist that he was. He flew his prog rock flag high, and I

Kevin Gilbert

love him for it.

From a story at the SFGate by Joel Selvin, 1996:

Gilbert was a prodigy musician from San Mateo who could play any instrument; colleagues invariably called him "the most talented musician I ever met." To the rest of the world, though, his only real claim to fame lies in the credits to "Tuesday Night Music Club," the 1993 debut album by Sheryl Crow.

"I saw something in Entertainment magazine that said Kevin Gilbert, the piano player on Sheryl Crow's record, had died," said songwriter David Baerwald, a member of the Tuesday club of the album's name. He paused, sadly shaking his head. "He hated that Sheryl Crow record and that's all he's going to be known for. The piano player? Roll over, Kevin Gilbert."

When Gilbert first brought his girlfriend Sheryl to informal Tuesday night songwriting sessions with his friends, he played a pivotal role in shaping an $85 million megahit. For her, the album brought three Grammys, stardom and an industry buzz that makes her forthcoming CD one of the most eagerly anticipated releases this fall. But for him, it was hardly a triumph. "I don't know if I can ever forgive her," he wrote in his journal. "I don't hate her -- I'm just soooo disappointed."

In a way it's a classic Hollywood tale: Gifted boy artist meets girl artist, mentors her to success and is left in the dust -- equal parts "Sunset Boulevard," "A Star Is Born" and "All About Eve." By any measure, Gilbert's career was a fitful tumble of brilliance and happenstance, a series of near misses and one hit that wasn't his. And his Tuesday night cohorts describe Crow -- who refused to be interviewed for this story -- as a marginally talented singer who exploited his skills and theirs in a ruthless grab for success.

But this wasn't a movie, and so the real story is inevitably messier and more complex.

Kevin Gilbert was a superb talent. His name doesn't deserve to be tied to a medium-talent hack like Sheryl Crow, an industry has-been who doesn't even figure in to music gatherings that celebrate worthlessness on a regular basis. He was always better than that.

He just didn't know it.