Michael Hurley

Michael Hurley
RIP
December 20, 1941 - April  3, 2025

It is with a resounding sadness that the Hurley family announces the recent sudden passing of the inimitable Michael Hurley. The “Godfather of freak folk” was for a prolific half-century the purveyor of an eccentric genius and compassionate wit. He alone was Snock. There is no other. Friends, family, and the music community deeply mourn his loss.
-Family statement
​​Hello all,
   Sad to say the great Michael Hurley has passed away. 
   For starters, here's a poem he wrote [a toast he gave at his 82nd birthday dinner] -​Eric Isaacson - Mississippi Records 
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Here’s to you!
Here’s to Doctor Ron Liedner
Here’s to Beth Littlewolf who found me upon my arrival in Portland Oregon
Here’s to the original peoples of the land we live on and all the plants here on which we feed and to the sky, the moon, the sun, the air and the water…
here’s to life. 

Here’s to friendship, dear and adverse, bees, birds and the furred animals we love. 
The raccoons, the bears, the dogs, the cats and the craftspeople who build our hats. 
Here’s to the worship of all these things. 
Here’s to peace, to concentration, the darkness, the light and our children. 
Here’s to our tears, here’s to our laughter and our play. 
Here’s to the hope; we’ll find our way. 
Here’s to this wine. 
Here’s to the fish, the saltwater and the wind. endless. (don’t feel slighted if we missed your name)
Here’s to the music that carries us thru
Let us not forget the chickens who lay the eggs
dual figure eights is two waving hands side by side
the rabbits are hopping soundlessly in the grass

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I could fill hundreds of pages with stories and accolades of Michael. He lived a life that's beyond belief.  But, Michael didn't like fanfare, so I'll keep it brief. 
 I will say these things - . 

If I had not seen it and suffered under it for 22 years, I could never believe someone lived by their own unique code as hardcore as Michael did. Some would call him stubborn, but I always thought of him as nobly defiant. Michael's will was unbreakable. For better and worse he taught me to stick to my guns, even if they were pointed the wrong way half the time. 

Michael saw his friends as family. He could be distant and hard to read at times, but he always genuinely loved his friends.

Michael was a romantic. Every song he wrote is grounded in romance with women, food, the road, friends, booze, ghosts, the mystery and on and on.
 
Deep down Michael knew he was one of the greatest songwriters of all time. He didn't strut and crow about it, but he knew it was true. Michael believed that songs had great value and could change the world, so he worked hard at his craft. 

Michael genuinely existed in a different dimension than the rest of us. Interdimensional beings, talking wolves, dance crazes like Doin' The oPossum and Measling, magic teas and so on were things he had genuine contact with. He was tuned in to worlds the squares will never know. 

Michael knew more song lyrics by heart than anyone I've ever met. If an old song's words were evading his memory at 2 AM, he would call me to sing an incomplete verse in hopes that I could finish it off. These are the best calls I ever got. Songs were constantly swimming in his head. 

Michael and I shared a religious love of music. We both admitted that if it wasn't for music, we'd have been dead long ago. It was one of our main reasons for living....though food, love, friendship and the exciting novelties of life figured into it too. 
   
Michael believed in being intentional. Often when he saw me rushing, or when I tried to speed him up, he wagged a finger at me and said, 'there's no dignity in haste."

Alright, I'm going too long already. I would write a book about Michael Hurley, but he made me promise not to. (Really). 

I'm going to miss him a ton and am grateful he left us all with so much great art and memories to continue helping us through. 
I'll let him give the last word - 


"I take me a room at the intrepid Inn, where the winds 
   of eternity sweep across the last crossroads before hell, where
   our absences are each others presences and the aimless driving
   blue navigators rave on."
    - Doc Snock

Don't be alarmed,
   Keep veepin",





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Just a little cafe on the IG where we can gather over tea and tunes and talk about our pal Elwood Snock. Keep veepin’!