Rockers who went on to unexpected careers

After nearly drowning in the Pacific Ocean near Malibu, Cat Stevens went through a spiritual awakening that resulted in the folk-pop artist converting to Islam. He changed his name to Yusuf Islam, retired from the music industry in 1980 and became an active philanthropist in the Muslim community. He resurfaced in 1989 when he gave an interview in which he appeared to voice support for the fatwa issued against author Salman Rushdie. He resumed his music career in the 1990s.

Best known as the guitarist for the 1960s pop phenomenon The Monkees, Michael Nesmith gradually segued into film and television production. His hour-long comedy special “Elephant Parts” was released direct to home video in 1981, and became one of the first hits of the home entertainment era. He later produced the films “Repo Man” and “Tapeheads.” Today, his Pacific Arts company is exploring the world of 3D virtual reality. 

Al Green wasn’t always “The Reverend.” He rededicated himself to god in 1976 after being assaulted with boiling grits by his married girlfriend, who then shot herself with a handgun. As an ordained pastor of the Full Gospel Tabernacle, Green channeled his passion for music into preaching the word of Christ from the pulpit and, later, gospel music. 

Captain Beefheart, aka Don Van Vliet, was one of rock’s most challenging artists, an experimental genius who, along with Frank Zappa, located the genre’s boundaries and pole vaulted them. His 1969 LP “Trout Mask Replica” blew the minds of folks like David Byrne, Tom Waits and “The Simpsons” creator Matt Groening. Then Beefheart quit music entirely and became one of the most exciting painters of the 1980s modern art scene.

Circle Jerks drummer Keith Clark had enough of the hardcore scene by the 1990s and left the music business for good, and went on to have a successful career as a CPA catering to other musicians in Los Angeles.

Best known as the drummer for the legendary Britpop band Blur, David Rowntree has been active in the field of computer animation and British politics as a solicitor. He has unsuccessfully run for parliament several times, but remains politically active to this day. He’s also a licensed pilot and, when he’s not too busy, still drums for Blur. 

The lead singer of Jefferson Airplane (later Jefferson Starship and then just plain Starship) remains one of rock-and-roll’s all-time great vocalists. Then, at the age of forty-eight, Slick up and retired because, in her words, “All rock-and-rollers over the age of fifty look stupid and retire.” The diva went out on her terms, and began an art career heavily influenced by Lewis Carroll’s “Alice in Wonderland.”

The Genesis drummer turned solo rock star has never been one to stay in the music lane. He’s dabbled as an actor since the 1960s (even starring in the 1988 romantic comedy “Buster”), founded and supported a variety of charities and, you may be surprised to learn, is obsessed with the Battle of The Alamo. He’s a leading collector of artifacts from the legendary mission, and has been named an honorary Texan by the state legislature.

Terry Chimes may not be a big name, but perhaps you’ve heard of the band he drummed for: The Clash. Chimes only recorded with the band for their debut double-LP, but he later toured with Black Sabbath, Hanoi Rocks and Billy Idol. Nowadays, if you’re in Essex and your back is acting up, you can drop by Chimes Chiropractic for an adjustment.

The lead guitarist for the influential prog rock band King Crimson was renowned, and, in some quarters, reviled for his cerebral approach to songwriting. Thus was the curse of many classically trained musicians who tried to fuse rock with more complex genres like jazz. Over the last decade, Fripp has retired and unretired, taught guitar craft seminars and toured as a motivational speaker. Everything he does is unexpected, and always has been.

Duran Duran might not qualify as “yacht rock,” but its lead singer Simon Le Bon is quite possibly the most avid yachter in rock-and-roll history. Le Bon sailed his boat “Drum” in 1985’s Whitbread Round the World Race. That same year, “Drum” capsized during the Fastnet race, which put Le Bon off competitive sailing for twenty years. When Le Bon isn’t on stage, it’s quite possible he’s on a boat somewhere on the high seas.

The man who once knocked himself out with his own bass guitar on the MTV Music Awards (he claims it was an act) began engaging in headier pursuits during the mid 1990s when he created the Joint Artists and Musicians Political Action Committee. His battles against anti-artist legislation have led him to explore running for office. For now, he’s content to agitate for electoral reform.

The former co-host of “The Sonny and Cher Comedy Hour” got serious in the 1980s when he was elected mayor of Palm Springs. He served until 1992, at which point he attempted a run for one of California’s seats in the United States Senate. He was defeated in the primary, but, three years later, was elected to the U.S. House of Representatives, where he served until he was killed in a skiing accident in 1998. 

The Jewish country rocker Kinky Friedman has ambled through life to the beat of a drummer no one else can hear. His satirical songs were popular throughout the 1970s, but the restless Friedman moved on to writing detective fiction in the 1980s. He became a popular columnist for Texas Monthly, and ran for governor in 2006 under the slogan “How Hard Could It Be?” Friedman didn’t make it out of the primary, but the Jewish cowboy still has a place in our hearts. 

Limp Bizkit front man Fred Durst was always a skilled self-promoter, so it’s surprising how quietly he transitioned to filmmaking in 2007 with the heartfelt coming-of-age drama “The Education of Charlie Banks.” Durst next teamed with producer Ice Cube on the family football comedy “The Longshots,” which bombed at the box office, essentially ending Durst’s directing career.

“Right here, right now: give me twenty push-ups!” When Jesus Jones’ popularity began to fade in the 1990s, lead singer Mike Edwards was left wondering what he’d do if his music career came to an end. His answer: become a personal trainer. Though Edwards still performs, he now has a personal training business to fall back on should the world get tired of “Right Here, Right Now.”