Kurt Cobain really symbolized something important for a whole generation. What the meaningful thing was, I’m not fully certain. I missed that Zeitgeist by only a few years. I remember hearing a lot of things about grunge and something called Generation X, and this Kurt Cobain who was supposed to be its prophet or some-such nonsense. I’m not the least bit disappointed I missed the GenX boat. They seemed kind of depressing. That I remember the period but don’t quite relate to it is part of the appeal. I like Nirvana because they weren’t my prophets. It makes the music feel both historic and familiar. Inevitably, it makes me think about how damn long ago 1992 was, and how old I’m getting and how time whips by at such a fast clip, and that makes me feel existential and angsty.
Hindsight changes everything. Marianne Faithfull has gone from mere pop stardom to notoriety, obscurity and rebirth and now she’s an object of out-and-out worship for a younger generation of music lovers who admire her weather-beaten truthtelling heroine-ism. She’s found her place as a grande-dame of decadence, with bottomless reserves of precious cool. All of which is unquestionably well-earned. It does also make it hard to get a focus on what her role in sixties pop really was. Sure, now she’s the icon to whom fashion collections are dedicated, a muse of the highest caliber, an unparalleled survivor. But without her own willful rescue of herself from “a pedestal I never asked to be on in the first place” she would probably be lucky to go down as a third-tier British invader. Her image, as a virginal but slightly morose dollybird, was created without her own input by her management, with an eye to popular appeal but no regard of her interests and personality. It was a manufactured image for a disposable pop star, but it stuck hard. The fresh-faced sexy but sexually nonthreatening lovesick convent girl struck a chord and became popular. That was the first problem. The second problem was the fact that her singing wasn’t all that great. Her voice was a little thin, and especially on the early songs she often sounded off-key and amateurish. It was alright for what it was, very pretty for singing folk songs and covering Yesterday. But she certainly couldn’t compete with the real heavyweights in folk music, like Joan Baez or Judy Collins, and there were plenty of similar blondly-coiffed wholesome girls operating on the same level of quality. Mary Hopkin mined a similar vein very well too, and who remembers her? I do love the naive charm of the early Marianne records, but they were meant neither to make an artistic statement nor to stand the test of time. It’s no wonder that Marianne took so vehemently to destroying her pop star self. She had to undertake an epic reverse-chrysalis to escape the role she was placed in. It reflects interestingly on the power of her early image how strong the reaction to its destruction was. It’s almost passed from memory now, but when the public discovered her promiscuous, drug fiendish ways she was pilloried for many years as a whore, a degenerate and a corruptress of young minds. All of which – fall from grace, comeback, return to full grace and then some – has given the first half of her career an amount of heft and cultural influence it wouldn’t otherwise have enjoyed. At least not directly. In 1965 the six year old Steven Patrick Morrissey scraped together his pocket change and launched himself down the path to oblivion with a purchase of the single Come And Stay With Me. So that’s at least one young mind irrevocably corrupted. Yay.
David Bowie’s first album is so odd that most historians would rather pretend it doesn’t exist. It’s an evolutionary dead end, musically at least. Bowie’s gone off in some unexpected directions over the decades we’ve known him, but this is the most outlandish. Vaudeville? Music hall? Nursery rhymes, for god’s sake! The big muse was Anthony Newley, whom I know little about, but it seems he occupied a particular niche at the corner of pop and theatre, combining overwrought Broadway-style belting with a braaawwd Cockney accent and the mentality of a flea-bitten (and very British) music hall comic. This style enjoyed a smattering of popularity in the sixties – its influence is clearly felt on records by The Kinks and The Who. But those boys kept their vaudevillian impulses in balance with a smart dose of maximum r’n'b. Why Bowie felt inspired to make his debut a collection of twee ditties almost utterly shorn of rock’n'roll is a mystery. He certainly didn’t find any success with the formula, at least in terms of selling the damn record. It does all seem shocking and strange, and sounds nothing like anything else with Bowie’s name on it, so much so the unprepared listener won’t even recognize the singer. And yet, despite or because of being strange, the Deram songs are really, very, wildly good. All the pieces are there, clothed and masked and disguised as the soundtrack of some West End musical comedy. Bowie already had all his favorite themes in hand. Alienation and dystopia, romance bad and good, vague social commentary, a flair for characterization, innate theatricity, everything’s as it should be on a Bowie record. I do like to imagine what form the little musical would take should anyone ever produce it, and someone should. This one, clearly derives inspiration from some obscure Mother Goose rhymes. Totally unexpected, unprecedented, and unrepeated. Totally charming too, although it’s probably for the best that he didn’t choose to pursue that very much further.
Donovan in his early, Woody Guthrie copying days. It’s a common misconception that he was copying Dylan at this time. Easy to see why, since they were both playing (and looking) in a very similar style. However, they were both aping Guthrie’s style. Since Dylan did that particular act somewhat better, it’s reasonable that he’s thought of as the originator, especially by fans who don’t know who Guthrie was in the first place. Luckily, both soon realized that being a facsimile of your hero (even a very good one) isn’t nearly as fulfilling as going out and doing your own thing. Who needs three Woody Guthries anyway?
Is this song racist? Or is it empowering? I think it’s meant to be empowering, in a humorous way. Clearly, Hud is acknowledging and laughing at negative stereotypes, even embracing them as a part of his identity. Nevertheless, it’s still a song that has the n-word in it, and a cause of intense embarrassment and shame to anyone caught listening to it in public. I have no idea whether or not anyone would construe it as offensive. Residual white guilt precludes me from opening up that particular can of worms. Goddam it, I wasn’t even born in this country, with its stupid neverending racial hangover. There is no reason to feel weird listening to a song that intelligently appropriates the n-word for parodist purposes. It’s a fucking good song.
Guinevere Van Seenus is the very definition of a cult model. Totally unknown by the wider world, but renowned in fashion for her fearlessness and creativity. She’s known for experimenting with bold hair colors and cuts, multiple piercings, and a willingness to wear the most outlandish clothes and makeup. I’ve always had a weakness for a moon-white tan, and Guinevere has the most gorgeous marble pale skin. I also love her physique. She’s slim, yet has the sensual ripeness of a thirties screen goddess. Maybe I’m just imagining it, but to me, she always looks decadent, like she’s just catwalked straight out of an opium den. As always, there’s a huge difference between the merely pretty and the otherworldy of beauty.
Not even Jethro Tull in all their Englishness could resist the glamor of Valhallian myth. Valkyrie maidens. Who’s not intrigued by that? This seems to be a remaster, very similar to what’s on Minstrel In the Gallery, but really bringing out the flute. Because nothing says ‘Norse gods’ like a flute solo. Oh and by the way, HERE is an interesting and valid critique of the Tull canon by the intrepid Russian critic George Starostin. I don’t agree with everything he says (I am, after all, a very rabid Tull fan) but he’s got a great number of good points to make. So check it out, along with his other reviews.
Ever wonder why concept albums went out of style? This is why. When the likes of Styx decided their music needed more big ideas, suddenly big ideas didn’t seem so cool anymore. In 1983 Styx made Kilroy Was Here, their idea of a rock opera, with a heavy concept intersecting themes of fascism, dystopia, personal freedom, and robots. There was a big tour, in which the performance was prefaced with the showing of a thirty-minute film detailing the aforementioned heavy conceptry. The album did give the world the ridiculous and ridiculously good single Mr Roboto. Thoroughly silly as it may all seem, the band seemed to take the project quite seriously, which of course only made them look sillier. I heard they actually got boo’ed and heckled when they brought it to Texas. From watching this video, they do appear to be playing with straight faced conviction (Tommy Shaw looks like Napoleon Dynamite). They’re awfully close to Spinal Tap territory, unwittingly driving the nail into the coffin of the rock opera. That said, I absolutely love Styx. They are so silly and cheesy and uncool and so good. Styx kicks Rush’s ass every time!
I’ve been trying to convince certain nonbelieving people that Modest Mouse is one of the few worthwhile things to come out of the vomithole of the nineteen-nineties, but they remain unconvinced. Although Modest Mouse didn’t actually become successful until the aughts, they started building their base in the early 90′s and they’re well qualified as one of the decade’s redeemers. Why some people find them off-putting has been a mystery to me. I figure, it must be what it usually is; the music is fine but the singer is weird. True, Isaac Brock frequently sings like a dog barking. That can be hard when you’re used to a more melodic approach. So, for newbies, here is a perfect introductory song. It was one of the first Modest Mouse songs I really liked, back when I was first getting acquainted. It’s got a pretty melody, and some nice violin, and perfectly normal sounding singing.
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