successor to Shock and Awe whose feed no longer seems to be working properly - original blog + archive remains here: http://shockandawesimonreynolds.blogspot.com/ ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ the blog of the Simon Reynolds book about glam and artpop of the 1970s and its aftershocks and reflections to this day
Monday, July 31, 2023
Street Incredibility
Friday, July 21, 2023
the personality collector
“I take on the guises of different people I meet. I can switch accents in seconds of meeting someone. I’ve always found that I collect – I’m a collector. I’ve just always seemed to collect personalities" - David Bowie, speaking to Russell Harty, 1973.
Bowie - in '85, messin' about, having a giggle, during studio down time - by impersonating a series of archetypal Amuuurcan singers / non-singers, complete with some hokey lyrics I assume are of his own devising
Have a guess who they are ... Answers to be revealed (or if you want to peek, go to the blog link immediately below). One of the artists I think gets two attempts, so that could be confusing.
(via Ethan Hein who in above-mentioned blogpost is currently doing ongoing musicological analysis of various DB songs - after "Absolute Beginners", I'd like to see him have a go with "That's Motivation")
I think this lark-about is also expressive of
a/ Bowie's core conviction that all performance modes and personae are masks, theatrical contrivances, fake through and through
b/ his admiration for those who successfully perform realness, convincingly put across the illusion of naturalistic.
Monday, July 17, 2023
humanly useless
I feel I pegged something in S+A when I noted the relative dearth of "humanly useful" songs in the Bowie uuurv. You can dance and you can singalong, and you can be fascinated by him and his journey - but how many can you actually relate to your own life? It's a very self-involved body o' work really, much of its effectiveness dependent on how invested you are in David Bowie in the first place.
An editor I once had claimed to have minimal time for popular music but averred that DB was self-evidently the most interesting man in pop. But what if you simply don't share that feeling? What songs are there that are like "There Is A Light That Never Goes Out" or "Jump" or "More Than A Feeling" or "Jack and Diane" - tunes that touch on something that everyone has felt at some point in their lives?
There's "Heroes", for a coat of grandeur to drape around whatever you're doing (that's why it's big in weddings)
"Life On Mars?", if you're feeling crushed by mundanity.
"Rebel Rebel," if you fancy yourself a bit.
But an awful lot of it is about being David Bowie, about where David Bowie was in his life at that point. And few of us indeed are in the same boat as David Bowie.
There's also a lot of songs that relate not to Bowie being the most interesting man in pop, but the most interested man in pop - songs that reflect his cultural interests and tastes and obsessions. "Joe the Lion", etc. That's one place where I do identify with Bowie, at least in the abstract - in so far as having loads and loads of interests, mostly in a fairly scatterbrain way, with things that are nothing to do with me, really, beyond that rather distanced intrigue and fascination.
But again, unless you happen to share Bowie's specific interests, what are you supposed to do with a song like "Joe the Lion"?
People who go on about the greatness of "Station to Station" as a song - I always wonder what is it actually saying to them? What do they feel when they listen to it? It's a particularly chronic example of DB as "man interested in lots of things" - here exacerbated by vast amounts of cocaine and the unmoored, unhealthy, borderline-insane lifestyle he was living in LA. He happened to be perusing books on magic and the occult, but when you're on coke, a piece of lint can be enthralling.
Another category is the garbled or condensed mini-screenplay song or spooky / sci-fi short story with a beat ("Drive-In Saturday", "The Man Who Sold the World", etc). These are fine as far as they go, I suppose.
But in terms of stuff that actually affects me, it's the really abjectly depressed or paranoid, broken-up stuff - "Fame" and Low and "Ashes to Ashes". Here something achingly real cuts through the biographic specifics.
Don't get me wrong, so much of it sounds simply glorious - "Suffragette City", "Golden Years', "Up the Hill Backwards", scores more - but yes, I rarely come away with a feeling as such.
Wednesday, July 12, 2023
"cluttered, baroque drivel... sublimely pretentious"
From September 15 1990, Ian Gittins nimbly nails the case for Cockney Rebel.
"So awful it's awesome" is over-used but this is one instance where it really fits - the Harley Vision wobbles on a tightrope between genius and gauche - and a whole bunch of other G words including garish and grotesque
Sunday, July 9, 2023
s+a premonitions
from Dec 2 1989 Melody Maker
Since then I've come to really rather enjoy Mud (mainly "Dynamite") and nearly revere Suzi Quatro (if only for "Can the Can," "In the Morning" and maybe "Primitive Love,"). Wizzard, though, still I find hard to stomach.
An error but a deserving one - would that it were true! - Alice Cooper did not of course run for President in 1972, he only made a promo video in which he pretended to be a candidate. And my arithmetic's a bit off - the "and I don't care" in "Elected" is only five years before "Pretty Vacant"
Here's a slightly later premonition- a review of a similar VHS compilation of promos, but in this case all by the wunnerful Sweet
THE SWEET
Sweet's Ballroom Blitz
(Castle Hendring Video)
Melody Maker, 1990?
"SWEET'S BALLROOM BLITZ" attempts to rescue The Sweet from their longstanding reputation as mere 'pretty boy' puppets of Chinn and Chapman (the hit factory who wrote and produced their biggest chart singles). A noble aim, as The Sweet's role in the Glam Rock explosion is sorely under-rated, but one which this rather scrappy compilation only goes some of the way to achieving.
There's too much of Sweet's lightest-weight material: the calypso crud of "Co Co", some deeply unfortunate, acoustic balladry, plus the moony "Love Is Like Oxygen", which has twilight-era Sweet coming on like understudies for Smokie. And the interview segments with 'the band today' tell us little, except that the guitarist has put on much weight and singer Brian Connolly seems to have been left with permanent delirium tremens from the years of alcohol abuse that eventually caused the groups' break-up.
Happily, "Ballroom Blitz" does include almost all Sweet's biggest and best hits (bar the unforgiveable absence of "Ballroom Blitz" itself). The Sweet were supreme exponents of a kind of vacant outrage: their sporting of make-up and Nazi chic was "unsubstantiated" by the dubious art-house trappings of Bowie and Roxy. Everything in a classic Sweet smash was there for effect alone, was purely and emptily sensationalist: the torrid, Four Seasons/Beach Boys multi-tracked harmonies, the streamlined pop-metal riffs, the ludicrous scenarios devised solely as a pretext for hysteria. "Blockbuster", with its sirens and "Great Rock'n'Roll Swindle" kettledrums, is a tour de force of fabricated mayhem, even though this particular performance sadly doesn't feature Steve Priest camping it up as Hitler in drag. "Fox
On The Run" and "Lies In Your Eyes" are typically torrid, plastic-punk put-downs of discarded girlfriends. "Hellraiser", by contrast, has The Sweet running scared of a voracious libertine whose "ultra-sonic eyes flash like hysterical danger signs/say, beware where you tread/or you'll go out of your head". "The Six Teens" is flamenco-flavoured, bubblegum psychedelia that asks cryptically: "where were you in '68?". But The Sweet's greatest moments are "Action" (self-written after the break with Chinnichap) and "Teenage Rampage". The latter is Chinnichap's finest slice of mock-apocalypse, boasting one the most ominous intro/outro's of all time, and lyrics like "at thirteen they were learning, but at fourteen they'll be burning". "Action" is The Sweet's "EMI", a massive V-sign to all the corporate parasites wanting their piece, and a blast of sonic insurgency that anticipates punk by two whole years.
Sunday, July 2, 2023
neo-glam 1 of ?
I was quite taken by No-Man - an approving nod in their direction, from a June 1993 singles column
"Crap has not yet turned to gold; you'll have to wait for us to write all this up for you, Gavin, old man"
- hark at the self-conscious awareness of the role of discourse in framing music, the sense that a transvaluation would need to be staged and set in motion, for us to hear all these vocal / lyrical / sonic / sartorial mannerisms as "cool" and even "enjoyable" again. And that transvaluation would be the shared work of critics and musicians (with the writers taking the lead)
Supremely arrogant, this envisioning critics as unacknowledged legislators of Music, whose diktats would change taste in receptive minds. The power of rhetorical alchemy: the formerly "crap" transubstantiated into the new "gold".
What's funny is that first list of band names (from Bebop to Doctors of Madness via Van Der Graaf, Deaf School and SAHB) are groups I would not even have heard at that point. I knew the names and had a vague sense of reputations - what they stood for.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Going back to No-Man - I never made the connection that half the core group is Steve Wilson as in Porcupine Tree and "remixer of renown" . So there's prog as well as glam in their art-pop, and it's very cleanly produced indeed.
Liner note to Loveblows & Lovecries, penned by "Billy Baudelaire" (actually singer Tim Bowness)
“Lovecry
The first thing you notice is the terrible beauty of it all.
The terrible rightness. The appetite.
Here at last is a group that appreciates extremes of
experience and expression. A group that prays to the hips
and lips of Presley’s rock’n’roll escapism as often as it
bathes in the poetry of Sartre’s poisoned Paris. A group
that likes to hurl its body at passing trains, stick its head
in fluffy clouds and roll naked in the dirt – all in the
same lunch break.
As taken by Manson’s whiskers as Bolan’s curls, No Man
is another crueller pop dream for another crueller
generation, charging through the idiot wind of 90’s new
age indolence, striking a balance between wisdom and folly, fact and
fancy, truth and its consequences.
No Man is a simple as a child’s fable and as complex as life itself.
A tetchy bastard with a healthy appetite and a nice line in
kitchen utensils, No Man likes good food.
Loveblows and Lovecries, a taste of heaven.
Eat Well!“
Via this site dedicated to the group (who are still an on-going project)
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