Denny Laine and Myles Goodwyn Remembered as Beloved Figures in Rock’s Inner Circle

When Denny Laine passed away on December 5, 2023, at 79 in Naples, Florida, and Myles Goodwyn followed just weeks later on December 30 at 75 in Halifax, Nova Scotia, the rock world didn’t just lose two legendary musicians—it lost two of its most genuinely loved souls. The tribute in Goldmine Magazine’s In Memoriam section captured something rare: not just their musical legacy, but the quiet, magnetic humanity that made everyone—from fellow legends to road crew members—want to be their friend. "Everyone wanted to be his friend because he was such a wonderful person," the article noted, a line that hung in the air like a chord left ringing after the final song. Though it didn’t specify which man the quote referred to, the sentiment applied equally to both.

A Friendship Forged in Music

Denny Laine, born Brian Frederick Hines in Birmingham, England, in 1944, was already a veteran of the British Invasion before most of his peers had picked up a guitar. He co-founded the Moody Blues in 1964, playing on their early hits like "Go Now." But it was his move to Paul McCartney’s Wings in 1971 that cemented his place in rock history. As guitarist, vocalist, and occasional songwriter, Laine was the glue that held Wings together during its peak years. He sang lead on "Band on the Run," co-wrote "My Love," and played rhythm so tight it felt like a second heartbeat.

Meanwhile, across the Atlantic, Myles Goodwyn was building his own empire. In 1969, he founded April Wine in Halifax, turning a local bar band into Canada’s most enduring rock outfit. With his gravelly voice, sharp songwriting, and relentless touring, Goodwyn made April Wine a staple of Canadian rock for over 50 years. He didn’t chase American fame—he built his own. And when he retired in 2022, it wasn’t because he was tired. It was because he’d given everything.

The Eagles Connection

The Goldmine piece didn’t just list deaths—it painted a picture of community. It named Joe Walsh, the fiery guitarist of the Eagles and former James Gang member, and Timothy B. Schmit, the Eagles’ bassist since 1977, as participants in a tribute moment where the band played "Take It Easy." That song, co-written by Glenn Frey and Jackson Browne, was the soundtrack to a generation’s longing for simplicity. And now, it became a eulogy.

Why would Walsh and Schmit show up? Because Laine and Goodwyn weren’t just peers—they were brothers in arms. Laine had toured with the Eagles in the ’70s. Goodwyn had opened for them in Canada. Schmit, who replaced Randy Meisner in 1977, knew what it meant to step into a legacy. Walsh, who once said "music is the only thing that keeps me sane," understood the weight of loss.

That night, when the opening chords of "Take It Easy" rang out, it wasn’t a concert. It was a circle. A group of men who’d spent decades on the road, in studios, and in hotel rooms, honoring someone who made the journey feel less lonely.

The Human Side of Rock

Too often, we remember musicians for their hits, not their hearts. But Goldmine got it right. Laine was known for his patience in the studio, his willingness to let younger musicians find their voice. Goodwyn, despite his fame, remained deeply rooted in Nova Scotia, mentoring local artists and playing small venues long after he could’ve retired to luxury.

There’s a myth that rock stars are egotists. But the truth, whispered in backstages and rehearsal rooms, is that the best ones are the quietest. The ones who remember your name. Who bring you coffee before a show. Who don’t need to be the center of attention to make you feel seen.

That’s why the tribute felt so raw. It wasn’t about albums sold or charts climbed. It was about the fact that, in a business built on ego, both men made you feel like family.

What’s Next for Music’s Memory Keepers

Goldmine Magazine, founded in 1974 in Derby, Connecticut, has spent nearly 50 years archiving music history—not just through collector’s guides and vinyl reviews, but by honoring the people who made it matter. Their In Memoriam section, now a digital landmark, has become the industry’s unofficial obituary wall. In 2023 alone, it documented over 30 major losses, from jazz legends to punk pioneers.

But this tribute stood out. Not because Laine and Goodwyn were bigger than others—but because their lives reflected a truth the industry often forgets: longevity isn’t measured in decades on stage, but in the number of people who miss you when you’re gone.

Legacy Beyond the Notes

Laine’s final interview, recorded just weeks before his death, was about his grandchildren. Goodwyn’s last public appearance was at a Halifax high school, where he gave a guitar to a student who’d never owned one.

They didn’t die as icons. They died as men who loved their craft—and the people who shared it.