Summer Girl

Haim sure do wear their influences on their sleeves.

If you take Tracy Thorn’s vocal tone on “Missing,” . . .

. . . add the do-do-dos and Ronnie Ross’s sax of “Walk on the Wild Side” . . .

. . . and transplant it to LA, would you get?

Not a complaint.

Salon des Refusés: Roxy Music

In 1863, the Salon des Refusés was launched to counter the conservative aesthetics enforced by the Academy of Fine Arts in the annual Paris Salon. That year, the “rejects” included such later revered painters as Manet, Courbet, Whistler, Pissarro and Cezanne. Perhaps it is now time to establish a Salon des Refusés for the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame‘s rejects.

The rules of eligibility for induction to the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame include:

Besides demonstrating unquestionable musical excellence and talent, inductees will have had a significant impact on the development, evolution and preservation of rock & roll.

And yet many artists who have had huge impacts on the development and evolution of rock & roll have been snubbed over and over, including: Kraftwerk, Chic, Big Star, Roxy Music, Brian Eno, New York Dolls, T. Rex, Television, The Slits, X-Ray Spex, Sonic Youth, Joy Division.

Roxy Music was a thoroughly British band. Every one of their eight studio albums entered the U.K. top ten, with three of them topping the charts, while only three entered the U.S. top 40, none breaching the top 20. They had numerous top 10 singles in the U.K., beginning with their debut, “Virginia Plain,” . . .

. . . but only one top 40 hit in the U.S., “Love Is the  Drug,” which reached only #30.

Many British bands in the ’60s and ’70s were formed in art schools. However, as Michael Bracewell’s excellent pre-history of the band, Re-Make/Re-Model: Becoming Roxy Music, makes very clear, bandleader Bryan Ferry took his art studies far more seriously than most would-be rockers. He was particularly influenced by the instruction of British pop artist Richard Hamilton at the University of Newcastle.

Richard Hamilton is perhaps best known to the general public for designing the cover of The Beatles, AKA the “White Album.” He and the Independent Group launched British pop art (Hamilton is credited with the first documented use of the term “pop art”) in their section of the This Is Tomorrow exhibition at the Whitechapel Gallery in 1956, when Andy Warhol was still drawing shoes. (Bryan Ferry would later record a solo song titled “This Is Tomorrow.”)

Both U.K. and U.S. pop art reveled in contemporary pop culture and embraced its imagery, but those on opposite sides of “the pond” approached the similar material in very different ways. Early U.S. Pop tended to focus on and blow up individual images: flags and targets (Jasper Johns), single frames from comic books (Roy Lichtenstein and Warhol), consumer goods like Campbell soup cans or Brillo boxes, celebrity and/or tabloid photos (Warhol).

U.K. Pop also appropriated images of (mostly American) comic books and consumer goods, but they were more likely to mash them up in a postmodern pastiche, as in Richard Hamilton’s collage Just what is it that makes today’s homes so different, so appealing?, which made a big impression at This Is Tomorrow . . .


. . . and later, presumably, on Bryan Ferry. Could this living room be the setting of “In Every Dream Home a Heartache” on Roxy Music’s second album, For Your Pleasure?

Of course, there were trans-Atlantic bridges between the two movements, particularly in the person of Mark Lancaster. Hamilton supplied his student with an introduction to Warhol, for whom Lancaster briefly worked as an assistant. He even appeared in a few of Warhol’s films.

Upon his return to the U.K., Lancaster shared his travel photos:

Back in Newcastle I put together a slide show for the school, with all the things I had photographed in New York, and music like that at the Factory, such as Lesley Gore singing “It’s My Party,” and ending with the taxi sequence with “Moon River” playing, because it reminded me, like all of New York in 1964, of Breakfast at Tiffanys. Images from America were still pretty rare, and some of the students, including my friends Stephen Buckley and Bryan Ferry, were impressed and affected by this experience. I remember I was just trying to keep the projector and the record player going and trying not to cry.

The Factory and Warhol’s traveling multi-media show, the Exploding Plastic Inevitable, also provided a platform for Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Inductees The Velvet Underground. In some ways, Roxy Music was to Richard Hamilton as The Velvet Underground was to Andy Warhol. The Velvet Underground had the amphetamine focus of Warhol’s pop art, homing in on a single riff, chord, even note, repeating it endlessly with very little variation. Roxy Music engaged in musical pastiche, juxtaposing bits and pieces from many different musical styles from many different contexts and eras.

This postmodern approach was not just apparent in their music. As Chic‘s Nile Rodgers explains, Roxy Music was a whole package. . . .

. . . integrating music, performance, fashion and art into their overall image.

With few exceptions (Richard Hamilton’s cover of the “White Album” being a rare and notable one), most pop and rock albums of the late ’60s and early ’70s featured the performers on the cover. Roxy Music had different designs. They featured classic pin up style glamour shots by Karl Stoecker, beginning with former Bond girl Kari-Ann Muller on the cover of the band’s debut album:

Bryan Ferry was known to date most of these cover models, even became engaged to Jerry Hall (before losing her to Mick Jagger):

(In his autobiography, Le Freak, Nile Rodgers tells the funny story of Chic also imitating this aspect of Roxy’s overall package, featuring two models on the cover of their debut album, only to end up hiring two female singers for their tours because fans kept asking where the women on the cover were. Their next several album covers featured the band.)

Roxy Music was not just Bryan Ferry, though, as quickly becomes evident when you compare Roxy’s albums to Ferry’s solo albums. Even though the latter feature a few of the same songs and even some of the same musicians (as well as Nile Rodgers, who has played on several of Ferry’s later solo albums), they sound very different from Roxy albums. Roxy Music was very much a collaborative project, with guitarist Phil Manzanera, saxophonist Andy Mackay and drummer Paul Thompson being the other constants in the band.

Perhaps foremost among Ferry’s collaborators in Roxy Music, at least at the beginning, was Brian Eno who played John Cale to Ferry’s Lou Reed. Eno, who studied cybernetics with pioneering interactive artist Roy Ascott, often described himself as a non-musician. He did not play an instrument, but fiddled with a mixing deck through which he live processed all of the other instruments. He initially manipulated the music out of view, but he eventually joined the rest of the band onstage with his electronics, and his flamboyant fashion sense:

Following John Cale’s model, Eno left the band after two albums, though Eno’s departure seems to have been far more amicable than when Reed kicked Cale out of the Velvet Underground. And don’t cry for Eno, who pursued a very successful career as a solo artist, often collaborating with various former bandmates, as well as John Cale and David Bowie, and especially as a producer of such bands as Talking Heads and U2.

Roxy’s next album, Stranded, proved that it was as overly simplistic to view Eno as wholly responsible for Roxy’s experimental side as it was to believe the same of John Cale in The Velvet Underground.

However, with the next two albums, Country Life and Siren, the band’s sound became more integrated. There was now one distinct Roxy Music style instead of a pastiche of many styles. That should not be taken as a criticism, though, as it was quite a distinctive style they settled on. It even earned them their one U.S. hit, “Love Is the Drug”:

Many even claim Siren is their best album, though I am partial to For Your Pleasure.

And then Roxy Music was done . . . at least for a while. Although Ferry had already released several solo albums, In Your Mind was his first to feature all original songs (the earlier albums were dominated by quirky covers, including some of Roxy songs). The other members also released solo albums, as well as collaborating with Eno in the band 801.

Roxy Music reformed in 1979, . . .

. . . just in time to usher in the era of the New Romantics, who were so influenced by the band’s original incarnation, both their music and their fashion sense.

Roxy’s influence is obvious in bands such as Ultravox, . . .

. . . The Human League, . . .

. . . ABC, . . .

. . . even in bigger bands like Duran Duran and Depeche Mode.

To Roxy, though, it must have felt like the same old scene . . .

. . . and they packed it in with their next studio album, Avalon.

It was a glorious, but ultimately nostalgic, valedictory. No longer postmodern deconstruction, but nostalgic revival.

Even notorious curmudgeon John Lydon (AKA Johnny Rotten) has nice things to say about Roxy:

Roxy Music surely deserves to be inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, both for their “unquestionable musical excellence” and their “significant impact on the development, evolution and preservation of rock & roll.”

Mis-TRANS-lating “Walk on the Wild Side”

“Walk on the Wild Side,” which introduced transgender Warhol Superstars Holly Woodlawn, Candy Darling and Jackie Curtis to mainstream American culture when the song hit the Top 40 in 1972, is “transphobic“?

Yes, according to the Central Student Association at Guelph University in Ontario:

It’s come to our attention that the playlist we had on during bus pass distribution on Thursday contained a song with transphobic lyrics (Lou Reed, Take a Walk on the Wild Side). The playlist was compiled by one of the Executives with the intent of feeling like a road trip from the 70s and 80s. The song was included solely on those terms and made in ignorance as the person making the list did not know or understand the lyrics.

We now know the lyrics to this song are hurtful to our friends in the trans community and we’d like to unreservedly apologize for this error in judgement. We have committed as an organization to be more mindful in our music selection during any events we hold. We will be meeting to discuss how we can create better playlists in the future. If you have gone through this process before or have any advice on creating more inclusive playlists, we’d love to hear from you (

If there are students or members of the campus community who overheard the song in our playlist and were hurt by its inclusion and you’d like to talk with us about it and how we can do better, we welcome that. We also recognize you may not want to talk with us and we acknowledge that it is not your responsibility to educate us. Please know that we are taking the steps to educate ourselves further to ensure this error is avoided going forward.

Lou Reed, who had a several year relationship which led to a (not legally binding at the time) marriage with his “transexual muse” Rachel, was transphobic?

What a drag, man!

Bonus track:

Metal Machine Music for Airports

Lou Reed’s Metal Machine Music is one of the loudest albums ever released, just over an hour of electronic feedback.

Brian Eno’s Ambient 1: Music for Airports is one of the quietest albums ever released, just over three-quarters of an hour of electronic music meant to fade into the background.*

While one affronts, the other relaxes, but both employed the electronic manipulation of sound to fill their environments.

I never would have imagined the two could work so well together to fill the same environment:

* In their hilarious comic strip satire of the history of rock and roll, Great Pop Things, Colin B. Morton and Chuck Death describe Brian Emo’s invention as “Ambivalent Music, which you can’t quite tell if you are listening to or not.”

ps — Thanks to DJ Food (who credits WFMU’s twitter feed for his finding it). This is just one of many, many great things his blog has introduced me to.

Do We Want Pop Culture to Be PC?

While I am certainly not defending what Duck Dynasty‘s Phil Robertson said in GQ — I find his views on homosexuality, race, etc., absolutely disgusting — I do defend his right to say any idiotic thing he may believe.

And A&E absolutely has the right to suspend or fire him if they also find his views repugnant, but could this have really been a surprise to them? I find it very hard to imagine they were not already well aware of his beliefs.  Judging by the earlier examples dug up to show the current statements are not aberrations, he has not exactly hidden them; so it seems likely A&E systematically edited these views out of the massive amount of raw footage they must shoot for the reality show.  In which case, they are not suddenly waking up to the views of their star; they are responding to a crisis created by those views becoming widely known to the public.  They are engaged in spin control.

As much as I abhor his views, I am very uncomfortable with those calling on A&E to fire him because of them.  Yes, stop watching the show if you can no longer stand the sight of this homophobe, even organize a boycott, but if it’s okay for me to expect a network to fire a star, even a reality star who is — rightly or wrongly — assumed to be voicing his own views and not those scripted by someone else, whose views I find execrable, then it is also okay for someone with different views to expect a network to fire a star whose views I agree with.

Furthermore, if I were going to start choosing my viewing or listening by the values and/or behavior of the stars, writers, directors, singers, producers, etc., onscreen or off, I would have to research everyone involved with the pop culture I consume in order to fairly impose those standards across the board.  And then I would have to look at the companies who distribute the culture and their corporate structures and connections.  I doubt many could withstand that scrutiny.

Bringing this back to popular music, I’d have to throw out much of my collection if I started imposing a morals clause on any artist who has expressed values that do not conform with my own.  Many of my favorite artists would have to go:  in their songs and interviews, Lou Reed and David Bowie have both said many things over the years that have violated my standards.  Even as I cringe at some of the things Kanye West says, I still buy each new album the day it comes out.  I would have to stop listening to any rapper who continues to glorify the thug life he may or may not have actually lived.  I’d certainly have to toss Eminem and Tyler the Creator, both of whom seem to be working through checklists of society’s standards to violate.  Even the Beatles, now thought to be the standard of good taste, openly advocated drug use and violent revolution against the government.

But do we really want our pop culture to be PC?  Instead, doesn’t pop culture, especially pop music, offer us a safe way to indulge in the non-PC attitudes and feelings we all sometimes have?  Can’t shouting along with sketchy refrains like “beat on the brat with a baseball bat” actually be cathartic?