I’ll Show You the Ropes Kid…

As we careen and reel into 2015, I am still trying to digest the bounty of good music offerings from 2014, which have kept my aural compass spinning. There has been a plethora of end of year lists, and predictions of artists to watch in 2015 from tastemakers, music press and commentators.  In spite of occasionally rolling my eyes at yet another list, I do actually love delving into some of these – skimming others – and find plenty to take away. It’s an opportunity to  check out artists & their albums I have completely missed from my radar, reappraise those I’d perhaps dismissed, or just not been drawn to at first encounter, As we turn the corner into the New Year, the BBC Sound of 2015 is an example of one of the most high profile acknowledgements of young emerging talent and artists, hovering in the sidelines,  who are expected to breakthrough into mainstream success. Inclusion in these lists is to have  a spotlight shone brightly upon them, and offers fast propulsion into the public eye and hopefully, ears and heart too.

It may be my fourth decade lens skewing the picture, but I do have an overwhelming sense that in 2014, our youth orientated, Next-Big-Thing obsessed music culture, was wonderfully disrupted by artists whose years not only belied this, but could teach us all a thing or two, especially when it comes to carving a fulfilling and long music career. Many of the big music moments and kudos belonged to the over 30s , and notably,  even those much older gave us exciting offerings that turned out to be very special. Two of the biggest indie artists successes of the year, The War on Drugs and Future Islands, have both been kicking around the block for some time, and last year, and pushing into their 30s, found a wider appreciative recognition and profile.

The War on Drugs album Lost in the Dream, felt truly special, and exuded a reflective maturity characterised by an odd vocal syntax.. Future Islands provided a mesmerising ‘WTF?’ moment of game changing proportions, when they performed on the Letterman Show, combining a killer song in the form of Seasons ( Waiting on You ) and a curiously weird, yet riveting performance of chest beating, heartfelt emotion and fire. They’d been making music for 11 years before this breakthrough, showing that persistence and cracking on,  can pay off.  But browsing the 2014 lists, we can also take cheer  from St Vincent, who’d hit a stride with her extraordinary album and presence;  Beck, who though already established enough to command attention, made yet another great album; Sleaford Mods, artists in their 40s, describe themselves as ‘electronic munt minimalist punk hop’  and received massive acclaim.

The music industry gives a rough ride to women in terms of overall presence, especially as they age, but thankfully, there have been some recent exceptions to this.  Two of the most notable, and talked about live music moments of 2014 were reminders that female artists can, though still rarer, enjoy the same enduring credibility and status many male artists do. While it’s unlikely that this reflects any seismic shift of value perception overall, we  seem to be now hitting a time when the influential music women of a certain generation are refusing to budge over, or lay down their guitars. Think how the often compiled 100/ 500 greatest artist and album lists of the old guard such as Rolling Stone, have all the usual suspect giants, such as Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin, Stevie Wonder, Radiohead, Nirvana, yet women fare badly.  Carole King, Aretha Franklin, Patti Smith are among the handful of women who make the top 100, with Joni Mitchell as the first female at No 30.  In 2014, half of Rolling Stone’s top 10 albums were female artists.

One of the biggest 2014 hot ticket events was Kate Bush,  who returned to a series of live shows after her 30 year absence from the live circuit. She  pulled it off in spectacular style, harnessed a good deal of love, her voice stronger, richer and more resonant, her theatrical magic, ever enchanting and her humility warm and enveloping. She didn’t flinch at ensuring the audience ‘s pleasurable immersion in her past work. Dolly Parton was one of the much talked about highlights of Glastonbury Festival, taking their  Sunday afternoon slot reserved for music treasures, and though the audience might have been drawn to some degree for a camp old knees up and sing-a-long, she also commanded a reverence as an extraordinary songwriter, multi instrumentalist and all round staying the course music hero. Let’s not forget, she’s a savvy music veteran who held on to her song rights from her early career days. Take note.

There’s a reverence and heart for artists of such stature, and those who endure have often created a varied body of work, that taps into and responds to changing times, while managing to do so on their own terms. Some older artists can sadly seem confined to the nostalgia and back catalogue market, and find it hard to make much impact with new material.  Indeed, how many gigs have you sat though waiting for the old hits? Nostalgia may bankroll some of the big name artists,  while others just about keep the wolf from the door still treading a smaller circuit, but nostalgia can be a curse to some artists, and it is simply not enough to thrive on.

Many artists have played then cleverly shunned the pop machine, or eventually just followed their nose in other directions, allowing them to navigate a more individual artistic path. They show that working with more of a polymath approach, not only offers new creative and interesting adventures & collaborations, but ultimately a more enduring, diverse & satisfying career as an artist too. The Slit’s Viv Albertine, had dipped out of music for some time, but her wonderful, funny wry and touching memoir became a best seller, alongside her return to writing new music. Artists such as Radiohead’s Jonny Greenwood continues widening his music adventures through playing with orchestras, and composing for film. Goldfrapp wrote the music for a new National Theatre production, Medea, which played a successful run. King Creosote made a wonderful soundtrack for archive film material in From Scotland with Love and released it on Domino. These seem to be less side projects and more an intrinsic part of a necessary creative curiosity. The announcement that PJ Harvey will be making her album as part of an Artangel project at Somerset House, where the public can see the album making process, precipitated a ticket frenzy of goldust proportions. Reader, I was not lucky in getting my paws on one, but I am still heartened and impressed by such an innovative yet simple idea and admiration for her continually pushing boundaries and trying new ideas.

So what of 2015? The BBC’s and other lists are rightfully filled with exciting new and hotly tipped artists, fresh faced with the beauty of youth.  Whether hopeful with the promise of bigger and brighter things, or irreverent to commercial & mainstream aspirations, for some, it will be the start of a long exciting music adventure trajectory, while others may disappear into the mass of nothingness,  suffer fleeting over-saturation, or perhaps just get lost between all that is on offer.  Yes, the industry is ever shifting, and there’s a whole  ongoing debate around how the seismic shifts in the recording industry affect the development and longevity of artists careers, and be able to make a workable income. There’s something to glean and admire about those who have already climbed those ropes, carved their own route and trodden it well, diversifying their careers and often their income streams. So while some will enjoy the ride in being the Next Big Thing, it’s also about the creative possibilities outside and beyond.

I look forward to the wonderful and fresh faced energy of emerging artists, creating exciting interpretations of the world around and within us, through new sounds, songs, ideas and ideals, I also enjoy the full range of life experience from the worldy wise, and yes, even the world weary, those whose music carries an authenticity of age and experience. Then there is also the sheer artistry that those longer in tooth can bring to the stage, through having had time to develop and hone their craft.  It can be a beautiful thing.

 

References and sources:

“I’ll show you the ropes” is a lyric from LCD Sound System : Daft Punk is Playing at My House

http://noisey.vice.com/en_uk/blog/everything-we-know-about-the-new-bjork-album?utm_source=noiseytwitteruk

http://www.rollingstone.com/music/lists/500-greatest-albums-of-all-time-20120531

http://www.rollingstone.com/music/lists/50-best-albums-of-2014-20141201/taylor-swift-1989-20141201

http://thequietus.com/articles/16739-albums-of-the-year-2014

Clash’s Fuss-Free Top 40 Albums Of 2014

http://www.theguardian.com/music/2014/nov/30/-sp-music-new-talent-for-2015

http://www.bbc.co.uk/events/ebh6v2

Typical Girls – Topical Women

As we gallop into the final furlong of the year, the most ire-inducing, controversial and yet ultimately fascinating debate this year has been around music and gender politics. The over sexualisation of women both as artists, and as eye candy adornment in music videos has fired up a blaze of outraged indignation, anxieties about the pornification of culture, and elicited calls for strict video classification and for artists to take greater responsibility as role models. As well as precipitating a great deal of defensiveness and finger pointing, the media furore, fed full on a good spat, stirred a much needed discourse about women in music, and feminism in general.

If you’ve been castaway in some far flung corner of the planet, a quick recap: Robin Thicke’s Blurred Lines lyrics, were viewed by some as ‘rape talk’, and compounded anger by a video featuring model beauties in states of prancing undress, while fully clothed men made declarations of ‘you know you want it’. Miley Cyrus’ video, directed by controversial photographer Terry Richardson, verged on the kind of soft porn imagery he’s known for (loved and hated ), and awoke a new wave of anxieties about the exploitation of young female artists. Sinead O’ Connor led a very public challenge, in an open letter to Miley, warning her against being pimped by the music industry, and to avoid being (de) valued more for her sexual appeal than her talent. It conveyed that her collusion in this sent dangerous signals to other young women. Intended as motherly, it also came across as sadly naive and condescending, with the slightly embarrassing absurdity of a woman in her late 40s trying to tell a young woman how she best behave. The feud did highlight the concern many people felt though: that female artists are encouraged to see themselves as sexual bait and sucked into a ruthlessly commercial world, in which control is relinquished to get ahead.

And therein lies the rub. Where does the line between sexual empowerment and freedom begin, and being sexual object with its accompanying social manipulations and insecurities lie? It is complex, confusing and deeply divides opinion. Miley responded by identifying herself as a feminist, ‘in control’ of her actions, and other artists such as Rhianna and Beyonce, who have felt the validity of their credentials questioned, have also remained insistent that they are in charge of their careers, their bodies, & their creative output.

It’s certainly not new and in past decades, Robert Palmer’s uber lipsticked bland band of females who pretend played instruments in an obvious eye candy moment, to Madonna’s Sex book which courted disagreement as to whether it signified brave female empowerment or her playing out to male fantasies for promotional value. Then Kylie – the perceived clean cut girl next door – underwent an image overhaul, driven by an embracing of sexuality in Spinning Around – the focus on her gold hot panted arse, unfortunately overshadowing her supposed coming of artistic age. Beyonce seems to have a whole wardrobe of semi nude sequined outfits to cavort on stage and video in, yet principally remains defined as a powerful woman in charge of her own sexuality.

Personally I like a good dose of sexuality and fantasy in my music. I see it as a necessary part of our human psyche. I just don’t want it all to be generated from a male gaze and I want to be able to identify something of myself in music – to connect with it. I don’t like to see women looking like they are thoughtlessly perpetuating the objectification of women via outworn portrayals. I want to see women in control of their own sexuality and image. That’s where many real blurred lines are: how in control are we when we’re surrounded by a society that is about appearing and undervalues women in such skewed ways?

There is also an instrinsic dilemma in discussing ‘women in music’. Defining music through gender sets women apart and there is no necessary link between women as artists other than gender, and many would be insulted at such a proposition. Yet somehow it is churlish not to champion women who have been groundbreaking in terms of re defining and reowning artistic presence in what has always been and still largely is a male dominated industry. There are notable women who paved the way not just for other musicians and artists, but who articulated a female perspective and voice that was notably absent or muted.

One of the most amazing aspects about punk and new wave was visibility and presence of gutsy women. Suddenly, there were women to aspire to, who brimmed with attitude and defied norms of expectation – from Patti Smith & Poly Styrene to Siouxsie Sioux. At the time these artists were seen as non- mainstream, but in reality they all appeared on Top of the Pops and graced the pages of both music and mainstream press. The Slits were a mischievous all girl group whose dub influences were a world away from small town culture, drawn from inner- city cross cultural influences. Their album cover saw them topless, almost tribal, smeared in mud and defiant of any male gaze . Debbie Harry always seemed the beautiful slightly objectified woman fronting Blondie’s poptastic new wave, but there was something of a hero in her self assured gaze and swagger that went far beyond just being many a teenage boy’s wet dream. When she wore a bin bag on Atomic, it was a moment of incredulity, and one that had profound impact on a wave of teenage girls desperate for a fuck you to the over conscious fashionistas. I for one, will be forever a fan.

Bands such as Talking Heads, Mekons, Butthole Surfers, Sonic Youth, and the Pixies, included women as equal musicians rather than the more common ‘girl fronts band’ model. We take it for granted now, but it was significant and inspiring then. Women like Kim Gordon, Kim Deal, Courtney Love, PJ Harvey, who rocked art, grunge and indie, stuck their necks out creatively. It offered us the opportunity to connect & think in a different way, from a more female perspective. And they didn’t shy away from sexuality but rather embraced it in a raw and refreshing way.

Why the hell does that all matter now? Given the recent furore around women as music video decoration, and female artists as being complicit in the portrayal of women as objects, it highlights that key signifiers of culture, can still reduce women’s value through the prism of male gaze in which the commercial music world still gravitates Because, after all these years, overall, women in music still receive less long term accreditation for their influence. There are still fewer women on the greatest albums lists, and few headline women artists on festivals. Pop icons such as Shakira ( for whom I have a guilty soft spot ) Madonna, Adele & Lady Gaga may be in the top grossing box office rakers, but they are still outnumbered by male artists. It’s interesting to note that women artists dominate young millionaires lists, contrasting with the overall older demographic millionaires list who are predominantly male. Still, the overall picture is immensely lopsided. PRSF opened a scheme for Women Make Music in response to these issues, citing that only 14% of PRS for Music members were women, and that in 18 years of the Mercury Prize it had only been won by women 5 times. In 2012 only 2 of the 12 nominees were female artists, and the 2013 shortlist included 2 female solo artists Laura Marling and Laura Mvula and mixed gender art rock band Savages. We live in a society that values male artistry more. This is reflected In the art world and other creative spheres this still holds true. Men as doers, creators, directors, producers still dominate the cultural space. Women are still struggling to get a decent piece of that.

We must remember too that the pop world is inherently commercial & by its nature the exploitative end of music – it can be fun and throwaway and we can invest our meaning into it, but ultimately is guided by market forces, with a ruthless capitalist PR morality. The old vision of the music industry with its moguls manipulating the artist’s career, giving the makeover still persists. The commercial pop world certainly throws up more constraints for artists in the early stages of their careers. It thankfully seems gradually weakened by new music models and a larger independent music sector.

I’m heartened by the ongoing debates – even while sometimes rolling my eyes – the way it’s stirring the underpinning of feminism, making us reconsider how we respect and represent women in popular culture; how we allow for a much wider refreshed discourse – one younger generations are joining and leading. Vagenda Magazine, Mushpit, and less mainstream music press are amongst those stirring it up, reminding women of my generation that there is a new savvy and smart generation of women, who although dogged by identity insecurities and still battling frustrating sexist attitudes, are actively a force to be reckoned with. One thing is for certain – feminism cannot come in a one size fits all package, and has to reflect the lived experience of women who negotiate & challenge their way as best they can.

Many female artists continue to step wide outside of concepts of pre defined sexuality, while other have embraced sexuality, owned it and even tried to redefine it. Artists such as M.I.A, Merrill Garbus from Tuneyards, Michachu & Polica continue breaking out and challenging the mainstream routes in ways that just feel truly exciting. One final end of year footnote – amongst the many female artists who have thrown a curve ball into the fray this year and remind us that talent and incredible songs can win hearts and all out, is Lorde. ‘Royals’ is undoubtedly the song most people will be humming until we’ve worn it out into 2014, and her incredible sensibility offers a refreshing slice of future potential. We need to keep paying more attention to artists like these, to different and new voices.

Voyager 1 – Interplanetary, Most Extraordinary Craft

My imagination was wonderfully captured today by the story from NASA announcing that Voyager 1 has now left the solar system. Launched 36 years ago in September 1977, the space probe set out on its journey as part of NASA’s mission to collect and record scientific data.  It also carried with it evidence of earth and it’s human endeavours,  including the images, sounds, messages  & technology from the 70’s.  Moving at 11 miles per second it it will travel onward on its journey and is estimated to remain in contact with earth until 2025,  still feeding back streams of data.

On board is a disc of music and sounds from earth from across different eras, and cultures.The assortment of music recordings seem to be dominated by classical music with Bach, Beethoven Mozart and Stravinsky as if reflecting some reverence to the form having higher cultural value at the time and perhaps in the minds of the selectors. However, there is a decent stab at global cultural representation, from Indian singing to a Peruvian wedding song and Navajo chanting to a few modern(ish) pieces such as Louis Armstrong, and a cursory nod to rock and roll through Chuck Berry’s Johnny B. Goode. There is not much popular music of the 60’s and 70”s there, and damn, they could have included Elvis at least, given 1977 was dominated by his untimely death. Way Down was No 1 for weeks on end before Mull of Kintyre bored much of the population to tears. Punk was still largely hidden from mainstream by Abba and David Soul, and probably had little chance of catching a lift on that flight.

But hang on ( to self) , this could never have been some small island representation. It would have to be a truly global slice of the cultrual landscape. What a job & responsibility to try and encapsulate a sample of the music of humanity in one recording! Equipped back then with a computer that had a memory a fraction of an iphone, the sheer volume and breadth of choice we’re used to now, was not available. Opportunities for listening to and playing back a global selection of music would have been extremely limited. Such a compilation is always going to be filtered through the taste and perspective of a specific set of curatorial hands. Everyone would have a different story to tell and creating a disc that represents a collective snapshot must be fantastic fun, but inevitably a tricky task too.

Here in 2013, I wonder how these recordings  would be shaped to represent today’s much more globally connected cultural and music world. I’m certain it wouldn’t have so much classical music on it. Gangnam Style  might even be on there in its ubiquitous annoying ability to be heard in every corner of our planet; a Bollywood hit perhaps? A bit of death metal angst would be joyously perplexing, and could Daft Punk grooves sit snugly and irresistably amongst the old guard perhaps? It could be everything you love or loathe.

Alongside the music selection is a 12 minute recording of sounds – a kind of global field recording sample. These evocative sound snippets range from storms to rain, insects and birds, through to whirring machinery, sawing and morse code. It’s strangely satisfying to listen to.

The notion of this odd selection of music and sound winding it’s way through space on the off chance that some intercepting extra-terrestial and sentient being will know firstly how to work our now dated technology – and be able to make any sense of the content is highly entertaining, and slightly bonkers.  But I still love the idea! It taps into some sense of universal mystery.

Ultimately, I think it all says more about our own need to record human endeavours and take a snapshot in time, leave a mark, and note a list of what we reckon to be good, than having any real inter universal connectivity. But then again you never know….!  I might have to make my own playlist just in case .

For more information on the Voyager Interstellar Mission go to:

http://voyager.jpl.nasa.gov/spacecraft/goldenrec.html and for the list of music http://voyager.jpl.nasa.gov/spacecraft/music.html

Wigan Casino – Sanctuary for the Soul

You couldn’t grow up in the Northern England and not be surrounded at some point by the sound and influence of Northern Soul. For me Northern Soul will always be associated with my brother Nick, and his story as a teenager is forever entangled with it in my mind.

We had a pretty complicated home life, and my mum seemed to lurch from one bad situation to another.  When she took us out of the children’s home, she had a new man, and got a council house,  but there seemed to be an endless scrimp to get by. There was work feast and famine: feast when our stepdad had a job on the rigs or seasonal work down by the harbour, alternating with periods on the dole struggling to make ends meet.  Buying through catalogue credit, and on tick, created an endless cycle of borrowing & debt.  Periods of work grew scarcer, not helped by our stepdad’s growing alcoholic tendencies and his increasing inability to be reliable. In those days, the pubs  opened at 11 til 3 then 7 til 11.  He’d stay in bed until after we’d left for school, disappear to the pub, come home after closing time, then back out after tea for the evening stint, returning after we were in bed around 11. Sometimes he was jolly, sometimes he was bad-tempered and unpredictable. An ex merchant navy man he was a bully of a man from the school of hard knocks. ‘Might is right ‘ was his motto and he never failed to prove it to us by rapping us with his knuckles if we didn’t behave according to his long list of unfathomable and arbitrary rules.  We lived in a kind of suppressed atmosphere of fear always wondering what kind of mood he would be in. Of what little money we had – he drank much of it away.

I adored my big brother, Nick, and he was the only one of us who dared to stand up to him. He had a sharp intelligence and defiant streak, and challenged my stepfathers controlling behaviour. They rowed and clashed constantly. Things came to a head when he beat Nick terribly. Unforgivably so. Eventually, it was agreed that Nick would go to live with our Gran, Doris.  She’d been the biggest constant throughout our lives and had been our most regular parental figurehead and visitor when we were in the kids home. She lived in a  small typical terrace house, small yard at the back complete with coal shed. Each room was jam-packed with fabrics and knitting, bags of materials and an array of half completed sewing projects stuffed under beds and on top of wardrobes. She was from a culture of make and make do. It must have been a shock for a twelve-year-old boy, and a tough transition for him  be ejected from the family, and to have to leave the rest of us.  At 9,  I didn’t really understand what was going on, but I idolised my big brother, and it left a huge gap, and a sense of loss. It was a huge rejection for him and one that troubled him for many years.

I went to Gran’s house often as I could to start with, though in my teens it probably became less attractive, as my own social diversions increased. I remember her as a big curvy woman, stern but loving who rode her bike with her fat bottom squeezed out over the edges of her small seat. She had a radio-gramophone with a record player set in a big sideboard style cabinet. Nick bought singles and albums, and took pride in showing them off to us and playing them when we came round. One advantage of the generational leap, was that he seemed to manage to get away with quite a lot in Gran’s house . I never knew if she just didn’t quite know what he was up to,  or just couldn’t keep up with such a spirited teenage boy. He got to see the Sex Pistols as ‘The Spots’ at Scarborough Penthouse club. How,  I never quite knew  – but I was impressed. Punk was only a brief flirtation though, as the real love for Nick was Northern Soul.

My own first encounter with Northern Soul was some of the dances held in the local scout hall, aged 11 or so. Here, soulful uplifting tunes were played, with dance steps that everyone seemed to slip into so easily, punctuating music breaks with claps and turns,  soliciting unified moments and sense of communal experience. These basic dance steps I’ve never forgotten and every time I hear a Northern Soul or Motown beat my feet still know their way a little.

Nick became immersed in this music, & decided to take himself off to Wigan Casino, the legendary club and mecca for Northern Soul in search of it’s allure.  I remember being in awe of his  adventuring and this enigmatic mysterious music  and place I had only heard about. I’d barely been out of Scarborough, so to me it was an extraordinary, almost mythical place.  Most clubs had a 2am license,  so all nighters such as Wigan Casino were still a rare thing. They would shut their evening bar at 11, when everyone would leave and the queue for the club to repoen at 12.30 would start. There was no alcohol served, but it didn’t matter, as the reason for going for Wigan club goers was for the music and for dancing.

The big songs and tunes of the scene were mainly obscure rarities from independent releases of American soul and RnB – artists who drew on but differentiated themselves from the dominant Motown sound.  Pre hip hop and before body popping, the northern-soulers would flip, spin, dip, and deliver intricate footwork . The scene became so admired that professional dancers would come to enjoy and steal some swanky moves. Nick remembers  the atmosphere was unlike  other northern clubs where beer and moody machismo could degenerate into a seething brawl or fisticuffs all too readily. If you bumped into someone they would apologise and the club was overwhelmingly friendly. He tells me about the end of the night ritual; 3 before 8 were the three famous tunes that were played religiously before each morning at the 8am close: Time will Pass you By  – Tobi Legend, Long After Tonight Is Over – Jimmy Radcliffe and I’m on My Way – Dean Parrish. The tunes played there were filtered though wider Northern Soul and club culture. Classics such as  Out on the Floor by Dobie Gray and Jackie Wilson’s Sweetest Feeling were played at virtually every dance event I ever went to in that era, and perhaps have become the most ubiquitous hits from that time.

The transformation on the dance floor from nobody to somebody, yet being part of a bigger crowd experience, offered the sense of being part of something special, and created a sense of belonging.   I think that’s why people still hold such life affirming music scenes dear, or remember them as some of the best times. and still ‘Keep the Faith!’  I’ve always felt that Northern Soul was Nick’s escape and gave him a much needed sense of belonging, when he was most lost.  Belonging comes in many ways, and it is not always through stable families. We sometimes make our own families & tribes to create it, and find ways to endure through the context we have no control of. Music is one of the best ways in which teenagers were able to connect with each other, have fun,  escape troublesome families and the dreariness of limited environments. It allows us to hope for something better, at very least offer a sanctuary for the soul.

Special thanks to my brother Nick for allowing me to share his story.

 

Hostage

Some words embed themselves in your heart, be they lyrics from a song or lines from poetry. Lines from this poem slipped sideways into my thoughts last week, and prodded & jabbed me unexpectedly.  Originally dedicated In Memoriam to Ulrike Meinhof, there’s something about it’s inner fire, compulsion and vivid desire for change, that has stayed with me.

So, I dusted down the old Liverpool beat poets anthology, The Mersey Sound that had been tucked away in my bookshelves, and reacquainted myself with it.  The book includes the work of the late Adrian Henri, Roger McGough, and Brian Patten. All were influential 1960s  precursors to the modern, punk and performance poets such as John Cooper Clark, Linton Kwesi Johnson and Joolz & the ranting political poets such as Ginger John & Seething Wells. The Liverpool poets were part of a new wave of pop culture and more connected to the music scene, than the literary establishment. Adrian Henri may have left us, but the influence of this generation of poets lives on. Contemporary spoken word artists like Kate Tempest and Dizraeli are forging their own path and are part of a new vanguard of poets crossing both performance poetry, literary and musical worlds.

 

Hostage by Adrian Henri

Urban Guerilla

you burst into me

machine gunned

the old poems

stationed at the door

for just such a contingency

made off

with my heart

in the getaway car

despite

a desperate chase

by police in armoured cars

held it to ransome

demanding

nothing less

than total involvement.

That night

a bloodless revolution

statues of the old regime

toppled in every street

victory fires

lit on every hillside

Now,

in the final shootout

you fight on alone

at the window of the blazing house

I a voluntary hostage

bewildered

listen to the howl

of approaching squad cars

taste

the stench of gas-grenades

as the masked militiamen

burst

into the room

wonder

if I’ll miss you.

Lay Your Cards Out

Polica are one of my new favourite bands. There’s a sound that’s both familiar but completely new too. I wonder for a moment if they ever listened to the Cocteau Twins. Whatever their influences might be, they capture a fresh energy and wrap it up in a song lyrically so simple, yet so beguiling.  I might have to listen to it a few times….and then some.

Fantastic Voyage

I have to admit, I was a bit apprehensive about going to the Bowie exhibition at the V&A this week.  So much has been written and talked about about Bowie, it’s hard to add anything new and interesting, much less see how anyone could collate an exhibition of material that could make sense of his vast body of work and influence. I was worried it could be a bit like a Madame Tussaud’s vision of Bowie – made for music tourists. Within the current media frenzy, we are already dangerously close to Bowie overkill.

An artist who has a career spanning 6 decades is a rare thing.  Rarer still is an artist who continues to produce new and exciting work and can still cause such a stir. Few artists get to make a comeback without it simply being a nod to nostalgia,  but Bowie snook up behind us all, and dropped a new single with no big PR campaign and  just a few hours notice. Where Are We Now is a song that befits both his artistic stature & his age. It feels suitably reflective, poignant and yet still contemporary and connecting. I was truly excited when I heard it, and the accompanying Tony Oursler video reminded us of his ongoing vitality in connecting with other artists work.

The V&A exhibition itself is a decently curated collection of photographs, notebooks, stage and video costumes, models of stage set designs, interspersed with audio snippets including both commentary & music (of course!) It aims to show the body of his work, the wide range of influences and his impact on design, fashion and popular culture. The main drawback for anyone who is a music fan, is that much of the material is already so familiar. The photos, costumes and videos, even much of the story about his influences and impact, is already so well documented. His collaborations and work with other innovative artists from dance choreographer Lindsay Kemp, to Brian Eno, Iggy Pop to fashion designers such as Alexander McQueen and Hedi Slimane, shows how engaged and curious he is an artist. He absorbed a multitude of cultural influences from literature to fashion, and openly used them to sculpt his own output.

What really shines through is the magnitude of his creativity and career as an artist, his capacity for experimentation and innovation. Truly impressive is the sheer volume of his songwriting and recording legacy, and his impact on popular culture.  Between 1967 and 2013, Bowie made 27 studio albums, selling over 140 million records. Song after song, album after album, each so individual and imbued with distinct character.  I have owned 7 different Bowie albums over the years in various formats – vinyl, cassette, CD and even recently re bought Hunky Dory  a second time on itunes.  That’s the most number of records I’ve had for one artist, and I still have most.

Lodger , was one of the first few albums I bought when I was 13. I already knew the well played Bowie songs such Space Oddity & Rebel Rebel, and as a new teen in 1979, I was mainly absorbed by new wave and punk.  However, I was attracted by the Lodger postcard album cover with Bowie’s mangled flattened body looking like an accident victim, and intrigued by the cross dressing Bowie in Boys Keep Swinging when he appeared on Top of the Pops.  It seemed  rebellious, curiously fascinating and admirable.  It was the start of a love of his work, that made me buy several other  albums retrospectively. Each felt like a discovery.

Bowie’s songwriting style is both expansive  and intimate. Lyrically, it feels like he’s holding a conversation, like a friend telling you a particularly larger than life story.  His songs often contain something both fantastical, supernatural, universal & futuristic and yet are also deeply rooted in the everyday minutae of the most ordinary things. It’s a wonderful combination of soliciting hope and aspiration, and connecting to the everyday with a recognition that holds up a mirror we can see ourselves in. Musically he was a deft arranger with an ability to craft melodies containing deep emotional dynamic.

Bowie was also an artist who was outrageous and challenging with his image, open in his bisexuality, purveying high costume camp, while his songwriting , ideas and concepts were simply extraordinary.  Most artists producing his kind of work would be considered left of field… and left there. Yet Bowie captured people’s imaginations and was embraced by the mainstream. I like this a lot. It reinforces my  belief in the intelligence of people’s ability to absorb culture and take on challenging ideas and left field art, imagination and ideas. While I’m sure there is music that appeals to lowest common denominator (and there is no doubt a place for), this reminds us of the sophisticated emotional intelligence of audiences. We really want something different that captures and stirs our imaginations, don’t we? Something that stretches us beyond ourselves, rather than being fed meaningless pop. Bowie was a master in theatrical role play and he drew us into this world. We could be Heroes. We  have Five Years left of crying. Where Are We Now? Where Are We Now?

An unexpected aside from the exhibition’s tribute to the career of Bowie, is a sideways view of the music industry itself.  Across these 45 plus years, the industry has changed  in terms of formats, and how it supports artists financially, as well as technical and studio production, how it connects audience and tells the story of artists through PR. Still the beating heart is about artists making music and writing songs. Few artists today will ever get the opportunity to make a body of work that spans 10 years never mind decades. The music industry’s fast turnover pushes artists too quickly from emerging artist to applauded newcomer to celebrated artist to headliner. Not much room there for artistic experimentation and a gathering maturity. The pressures on artists to recoup financial advances spent on them, mean many artists are dropped by labels after one or two albums. Many artists instead will just either operate outside the mainstream, working independently, and get on with doing what they do. Or have a short life.

I think there are few artists who would not recognise and revere Bowie’s huge influence and slightly envy the longevity he’s achieved. I ‘m left wondering if ‘The Man Who Sold the World ‘ is Bowie grappling with himself and his own creations. He captured a unique interpretation of life,  its dramas, dreams, potential, disappointments and limitations.  Undoubtedly , ‘Bowie’ the icon became bigger than him, but he managed to steer a course that regained control of his career, creativity and body of work. Bowie, his songs and music have become embedded as a rich part of our music and cultural history. Let’s hope other artists have the opportunity to follow…

Gary Glitter & the Glam Rock Legacy

I can’t really remember the first music I ever heard, but the first song I was smitten by was a Gary Glitter song.

I lived in May Lodge, a children’s home between the age of 3 and 7. I remember it as a big sprawling house, with a maze like layout, separate annexes for staff, small separate dormitories for boys and girls, and a large multi level garden, with nooks and crannies to escape to and explore. The experience of living in a big house with around twenty kids of all ages, from babies to teenagers was complicated – and at times rather extraordinary. Kids came and went, some stayed only a few weeks, for others this was to be home for good. Some had parents that visited occasionally, some never had any visitors, cut adrift of any family. When twin boys were adopted by one of the teachers at our school we felt slightly jealous. I was there with my two brothers and sister. We weren’t able to be ‘re-homed’, as our mum was coming back for us, though the two years we were recommended to be in care for, turned quickly into four.

Childcare in the late 60s / early 70s was underpinned by such different attitudes from those we know now, and the home was run by an old fashioned couple, conservative, strict and naive of some of the dodgy and frankly abusive activities of some of the other carers. Care is not love, it’s someone’s job, and being in such a place leaves a bit of a hole in a normal childhood development. I was a mousey, shy, awkward and stubborn child, (and I still retain all of those characteristics to some degree!) Most stubborn about food, I refused to eat the bland gloop like semolina or rice puddings, and I would be left alone in the dining room with the threat of having to to sit there until I ate it, or have it again for breakfast. This futile effort to break my spirit, would end up as stalemate, but luckily, I was taken under the wing of a few older boys who rescued me, sneaking back into the dining room to devouring whatever was left in my bowl. They got extras, and I could escape to go off and play.

One of my best memories of May Lodge, was the pleasure of an old box record player with a built in speaker, a knob dial which set the turntable speed to 33 or 45rpm, with a notched central pole and a bakelite arm through which you could hold a stack of singles to play one after another. You could set the needle arm to return to the start of the record, once reaching the end. The arm would lift and move back across and down again to the start. It could play the single again. And again. And Again. Those same big kids would set it on the floor in the lounge, and play me the records they’d bought with their pocket money.

I had little concept at the time of who Gary Glitter was, but the moment ‘I Love You Love Me Love’ went on the record player, I was mesmerised, and wanted to hear it several times over. It was my first song love, and first love song. And it was one that gave me some sense and feeling of being an outsider. ‘They didn’t like my hair, the clothes I used to wear…’, all framed within a message of alluring and unconditional love and loyalty. It tapped in to a simple emotion for me that I understandably connected with.

This single was released in 1973, and was pitched as a popular love ballad, following the big Glitter Band stomp hits such as My Gang, and Rock N Roll Parts 1 and 2. Gary Glitter was a populist glam rock icon in amongst far artier, creatively challenging and lyrically intellectual peers such as Bolan and Bowie. He was an outrageous and loveable camp show off, who played to the camera, stomping and posturing with over exaggerated expressions. His silver suits opened to show off his chest hair, power shoulder pads, platform boots and a camp playful quality, ensured he was loved by both young pop kids and grannies alike. Whatever, I wanted to be in his gang, oh yeah!

I forgot about Gary Glitter for quite some time, like most people. Once I became more music aware, he seemed so uncool, a bit of a joke artist, rolled out at Xmas parties and crap discos. Other far more exciting ( and probably earnest) music now filled my world. Yet undoubtedly, Glitter had a huge influence on glam rock sound, not least with the glam rock stomp and pulsing bassline, created on Rock N Roll parts 1 & 2. It was a groundbreaking sound using 2 drummers, almost tribal in feel, sexy distorted bass and guitars, the essence of which to be much emulated & copied by artists since.

KLF sampled a loop of the track for The Timelords’ ‘Doctoring the Tardis’. Groundbreaking electro artists such as Goldfrapp, were undoubtedly influenced by these sounds for ‘Strict Machine ‘on Black Cherry, Sam Sparro’s Black and Gold robs from both disco and glam, and more recently the fabulous Tame Impala track, Elephant feels as if it owe something special to the glam rock chunky driving bassline stomp, while also mining other rock psychedelia sources.

Gary Glitter’s fall from grace was to be ugly and tragic. He was first charged with possessing pornographic materials featuring children, and following a prison conviction he spent the following years escaping to various destinations before being deported from Cambodia to Vietnam, where he was also charged with molesting 10 and 11 year old girls. The expose that revealed Glitter had been sexually abusing and exploiting young girls ripped apart the image of Glitter as a cheeky bad boy, and confirmed him as a serial paedophile, a sad old fuck who had abused his stardom, and thought he could get away with it.

I wondered if he had alway has paedophile tendencies, yet somehow doubted this. It seems more likely the power of being a star removed him, and others, from a grounded reality, and that the boundaries of normal behaviour gradually dissolved. Who can know? Many music stars from this era were undoubtedly playing a troubled line between taking advantage of being a star and enjoying sexual attention and favours made available to them, and exploiting their teenage fans. The groupie culture of this era is well known and documented, but this was something altogether a more sinister, and contrived abuse. Glitter is currently under investigation as part of the ongoing Operation Yewtree, alongside Jimmy Saville and other well known figures, which has blown open the sheer extent of an alarming culture. We can’t pretend to know or try to explain why these stars behaved as they did. However, I think there is some robust discussion and self analysis needed about stardom, power, & predatory sexual attitudes within celebrity and music culture.

But there is something else here, something about how we reconcile & deal with our fallen heroes. Can we acknowledge an artist’s huge influence while acknowledging his hideous crimes, and without letting them off the hook. I believe, we shouldn’t pretend that Gary Glitter didn’t exist and erase him from our music collections and memories. Neither should we ignore the terrible abuse he inflicted on his victims. While horrified at his crimes, I discovered recently that he himself had been in care from the age of 10, it made me feel rather sad for him. Being in care damages a lot of people and they often have to work hard to pull themselves back to loving and family relationships. Some never make it. We have to keep sight of the whole picture, and that is not a savoury one. I’ll never be able my separate my thoughts about Gary Glitter’s music now from the monster he created for himself.

While cringing now at the sacharine sentiment of I Love You Love Me Love, I’ll forever hold a soft spot for Rock and Roll parts 1 and 2, and both were not only a moment in time, but had huge influence on the sound of future artists. I’ve chosen here very deliberately to post a track I believe shows the legacy of glam rock, rather than Glitter himself again.

Groove is in the Heart

‘Groove is in the Heart’ is my blog page about music and art, through various meanderings, emotional connections and meaning.

Music significantly shapes our inner and outer world, contributes to our sense of identity, becoming a prism through we which we view life and the world around us. But music isn’t just some passive backdrop, a soundtrack that just happened to be playing like some radio station while life rolls on by like a train. We make an active listening choice, gravitating towards particular songs and music and charging them with meaning and recollection. It can help us make sense of the vagaries of life, and some of the more momentous occasions and times of trouble, loves and longings. As well as imagining what our own soundtrack to our lives might be, so many people plan what they would want to be the soundtrack to their funerals – they imagine the songs that will somehow summarise and define their sense of themselves. Music becomes a vehicle through which people identify and see themselves.

Sometimes it can seem as if there is far too much music, too much noise, too much bland triviality, too much pap throwaway pop. Everywhere around us from advertising to shop stereo, to wildlife and travel programmes, films and video games, music has been designed as part of a campaign to try and tap into our psyches and lifestyles, manipulating our music connections and heroes, to trigger emotions of desire, ambition, hopes, disappointments, as well as our insecurities and collective sorrow and joy. I believe our musical and emotional intelligence is much sharper and runs much deeper than is given credit for.

For me, my biggest obsession has always been about songs, the sometimes intangible moment when a song gets under the skin in some way, through a well crafted lyric, an acerbic wit, a lift and drop, a driven beat that urges along or drifting melody that captures a feeling, or just a beautiful simplicity that feels like it has tapped into your very soul. Sometimes a song says the unsayable. Many great songs leave just enough mystery and ambiguity for the listener to insert themselves within, reflect and mirror feelings. Some create a feeling of commonality and shared experience and belonging.

I don’t just want to write about individual songs, but rather about the emotions they connect with, the wider context they reflect, the impact that music creates. For me, it’s about threads and meaning, sometimes personal and deep rooted, sometimes social & political. Music and songs often challenge wider social perspectives and thinking, sometimes even precipitating change, as part of wider social movements. Music helps us explore who we are as people, our place, class, gender and our aspirations in life, including the big moments such as love, loss and death itself. It’s part of the very fabric of our lives and culture. And let’s not forget that music brings people together, is part of our social fabric from parties to festivals to weddings and funerals, the serious and fun times, the good, sad and glad times.

It became apparent as I started to write that almost the best way to do this is to sometimes reveal my own connections to various music and songs, their context, and follow those threads that stayed part of me, and my identity. My work brings me into contact with some fantastic music, projects and people and I’d like to share some of those experiences too.