Rock Stars Who Died Under Suspicious Circumstances

When a rock star dies unexpectedly, the question of how they died can loom as large as the memory of how they lived. If the post-mortem math doesn't add up, it divides public opinion on how to interpret the circumstances. Multiple theories emerge, and it can be difficult to differentiate suspicious positions from legitimate suspicions.

Some allegations belong to a constellation of baseless rock star conspiracy theories. When Elvis checked into the Heartbreak Hotel in the sky, for example, a handful of shook-up fans denied that he even died. Ignoring irrefutable proof of his passing, Elvis truthers cited Elvis sightings and a tombstone typo as evidence that the King staged his demise. While a parade of crying clowns couldn't rival the laughable sadness of that idea, not every case suffers from such obvious fact-blindness. In the instances below, relevant details surrounding rock star deaths created reasonable doubts about whether the official narratives reflected reality.

Brian Jones named the Rolling Stones after Muddy Waters' "Rolling Stone Blues." He also assembled the band, imbuing its tunes with rhythm and blues. Those blues were painted black in 1969 when Jones got fired from the band and died a few weeks afterward. Partly relying on eyewitness testimony, a coroner concluded that Jones drowned in his swimming pool during a drug-fueled "misadventure." However, subsequent statements muddied the waters.

Per the BBC, the musician spent his final night alive with girlfriend Anna Wohlin, friend Janet Lawson (who found Jones' body), and builder Frank Thorogood. Lawson recalled that Jones and Thorogood went on an ill-advised "midnight swim" after consuming pills and alcohol. But when she spoke with a private investigator decades later, her version of events evolved.

As Rolling Stone recounted, according to Lawson's updated account, Jones and Frank Thorogood had horsed around in the pool around the time Jones died. She "saw Thorogood shaking badly" before seeing Jones' body. In 2005 Anna Wohlin made similar assertions, telling the Independent she thought Thorogood inadvertently killed Jones during "some sort of horseplay." She added that Thorogood made no effort to aid Jones.

A 1994 book also accused Thorogood, claiming he confessed on his deathbed to Rolling Stones driver Tom Keylock. In 2009 a former Stones road manager accused Keylock of killing Jones and silencing witnesses with threats. What about the supposed substance abuse? Drugs hardly turned up during the autopsy.

Formed in 1984, Norwegian band Mayhem birthed black metal, which The Guardian described as "the most extreme form of music imaginable." Mayhem weren't just dark; they made black holes seem like sunlight by comparison. The members sported stage names like Necro Butcher, unironically hailed Satan, and chucked animal heads at audience members. That's the tame stuff. Bassist Count Grishnackh (who later assumed the name Burzum and espoused Nazism) and guitarist Snorre Ruch would serve prison time for church burnings and murdering fellow Mayhem member Euronymous.

Grishnackh (real name Varg Vikernes) insisted it was self-defense. He and Euronymous (Øystein Aarseth) had a falling-out over finances and politics. Then Euronymous supposedly threatened to murder Grishnackh. According to Black Metal: Evolution of the Cult, Euronymous habitually threatened people and even bragged that he attempted to poison someone. Overall, he wanted to out-evil people, and sometimes he succeeded. Euronymous once assaulted someone with a broken bottle. He also prided himself on photographing a dead bandmate and apparently mailing pieces of the deceased's skull to other black metal musicians.

Most people dismissed Euronymous' threats as grim games, but Grishnackh (pictured above with his lawyer) wasn't playing. In 1993 he arrived at Euronymous' door with a knife. Bandmate Snorre Rush, who drove Grishnackh to the crime scene, said the slaying was premeditated. Grishnackh later maintained that he just wanted to beat the excrement out of his foe but was attacked. Either way, he ended up chasing and attacking Euronymous, who was found with 23 wounds — some from Vikernes' knife and some from allegedly falling on glass during the struggle.

Jim Morrison was so awesome that paleontologists named a prehistoric lizard after him. The Doors lead singer had looks, locks, and lyrics. Equal parts poet and rocker, Morrison sang with entrancing intensity and howled like a musical Ginsberg. He lit everything up with "Light My Fire" and showed off-the-cuff creativity when performing "The End." But when 27-year-old Morrison met his end in 1971, the world was kept in the dark.

Morrison died in Paris on July 3, but Rolling Stone noted that Doors manager Bill Siddon didn't inform American news outlets until July 9, two days after the legend was laid to rest. (Siddon later related that Morrison's loved ones wanted privacy.) Journalists had heard days earlier that Morrison died, but when they tried to confirm what occurred, they were told the singer simply needed rest. Before discovering otherwise, French reporters even wrote that he had "minor malady."

According to Morrison's death certificate, he had a heart attack. But nobody conducted an autopsy. Morrison's wife, Pam, claimed he coughed up blood before apparently passing away while bathing. This supports reports that Morrison died of a respiratory ailment. However, the singer supposedly seemed healthy beforehand, and Pam apparently didn't witness his death. Band photographer Bobby Klein told The Guardian that the Doors' producer told him Morrison mistook heroin for coke and fatally inhaled it. Musician Marianne Faithfull blamed an ex-boyfriend, telling the Telegraph her former beau sold Morrison powerful heroin, inducing an accidental overdose.

In 1992, Manic Street Preachers guitarist and lyricist Richey Edwards drunkenly moonwalked on top of a bar. Why? Because he was happy. That anecdote demonstrated a facet of the rock star that his fellow Preachers felt people overlooked, according to NME. Sadly, the other facets didn't moonwalk. Edwards suffered from depression and regularly resorted to self-harm.

Edwards' sadness saturated his work, most notably the album The Holy Bible. As The Guardian elaborated, his lyrics often referenced his personal demons. At the time his bandmates interpreted his lyrics as a "journalistic" exploration of "the cruelty of humanity filtered through Richey's amazing intellect." In retrospect it sounded like a cry for help. In February 1995, Edwards went missing from a London hotel. After three weeks of searching, authorities located his car at a bridge where people often end their lives, per the Independent.

In 2008 Edwards was presumed dead. However, many people reject the notion, noting that Edwards publicly stated he would never take his own life. Moreover, in the days preceding his disappearance, he consistently withdrew substantial sums of money from an ATM. There have been several unconfirmed sightings over the years. In 2018 Edwards' relatives learned the guitarist's car arrived at the bridge 12 hours earlier than originally thought, so for 20 years, requests for information have focused on the incorrect window of time.

If you or anyone you know is having suicidal thoughts, please call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK (8255).

In 1966 Iron Butterfly took flight with "In -A-Gadda-Da-Vida." The hauntingly trippy song made ideal ear fodder for flower children and Freddy Krueger. Philip Taylor Kramer took over as Iron Butterfly's bassist and lead singer from 1971 until the band disbanded in 1975. The Washington Post reported that he recorded two albums that floundered. He attained greater success in the tech world, though.

Described by Variety as "a science whiz kid" who built a laser capable of downing balloons at age 12, Kramer became a computer company executive. Soon after his company acquired pioneering video compression technology for CD-ROMs, he vanished. In 1995 the ex-rocker turned executive traveled to the LAX airport to pick up a business associate. Instead, he dialed 911 to announce he was killing himself and that "O.J. Simpson is innocent." Then, radio silence. It seemed inexplicable. Kramer seemed mentally sound, had kids he loved, and didn't do drugs.

Kramer's disappearance appeared on Unsolved Mysteries. His mother thought he'd been abducted, and because of his tech ties a congressman suggested his case had national security implications. The Washington Post pointed out that Kramer's business had gone belly-up around the time he vanished and argued that his confusing 911 call showed he had cracked under pressure. Per the LA Times, in 1999 hikers encountered Kramer's bones inside his van in a canyon.

If you or anyone you know is having suicidal thoughts, please call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK (8255).