FEATURE: Kate Bush: The Tour of Life: Push Your Foot on the Heartbreak: Lionheart’s ‘Two Bands’ Awkwardness

FEATURE:

 

 

Kate Bush: The Tour of Life

IN THIS PHOTO: The album cover for Kate Bush’s Lionheart (1978)/PHOTO CREDIT: Gered Mankowitz

Push Your Foot on the Heartbreak: Lionheart’s ‘Two Bands’ Awkwardness

_________

THIS time around…

 IN THIS PHOTO: Kate Bush in Japan in 1978/PHOTO CREDIT: Koh Hasebe/Shinko Music

for Kate Bush: The Tour of Life, I want to focus on a pivotal and transformative moment. Not necessarily entirely positive. After 1978’s The Kick Inside, Kate Bush would have assumed she had won the right to select the band she played with. She did for 1979’s The Tour of Life. Produced by Andrew Powell, Kate Bush assisted production on the follow-up. Lionheart was recorded in France between July and September 1978. Only a few months after her debut came out, Bush was busy with its follow-up. Think about how hard she promoted The Kick Inside - and how she would still have been promoting it when she was working on Lionheart. It is staggering that 1978 threw so much at her. EMI wanting this momentum to keep going. They wanted product. Maybe Bush was not quite ready to tour, though she was not afforded the chance to rest and relax after such a successful and hectic promotional circuit for The Kick Inside. As such, when it came to Lionheart, Bush was sent from London to Super Bear Studios in Berre-les-Alpes. There were changes and shifts. The recording environment was very different from AIR in London. It was more conducive to relaxation, even though it was stifling hot. It would have seemed like a tempting holiday for Bush and her musicians, though they were there to work. However, they did get time to sit by the pool and have some downtime. It all boded well. Even if the album was rushed and Bush only had time to write a few new songs, she was a professional and wanted to make a great album. Learning more about the studio and production, as Graeme Thomson writes in Under the Ivy: The Life and Music of Kate Bush, Lionheart is the album where she becomes a studio baby. Fascinated by all the options the studio offered. Kate Bush felt that The Kick Inside was an album where she was less the architect and pioneer. They were her songs, though someone else’s vision and stamp was on them. She played the song as needed and that was it.

Lionheart was very much an opportunity to change that. She could have more say when it came to the production and the musicians she played with. Although I really love Lionheart and feel it is underrated, Bush has written it off. Looking back with a sense of regret, it was impossible to make something both different to The Kick Inside yet better. Many feel that at least two of the news songs, Coffee Homeground and Fullhouse, are muddled and half-hearted. Filler on the album. One new song, Symphony in Blue, is fascinating and among her best songs from that early period. It was this sense of Kate Bush wanted to work with players she performed with as part of the KT Bush Band. Having Del Palmer and Brian Bath in the mix. The more studio-savvy and experienced players of the debut – including Ian Bairnson and Duncan Mackay – were chosen over Bush’s choices. You can hear Del Palmer and Paddy Bush on a few songs. However, Lionheart has this feeling of tussle and awkward compromise. Transition and evolution that was stunted and rushed. A producer who wanted to repeat the debut in terms of the personnel and sound. Kate Bush, still a teenager (until 30th July, 1978), knowing that things needed to move and change. Andrew Powell was keen to hear Kate Bush’s ideas, and even came down to East Wickham Farm and listened to her band perform. Brian Bath was especially nervous. Even so, Powell had no real enthusiasm for using Bush’s guys. In that first couple of weeks, Bush’s band recorded eight tracks. Powell was not convinced or comfortable. There were logistical issues that gave Powell cause for concern. Charlie Morgan, who drums on Wow and Kashka from Baghdad, admits that the translation from those rehearsals at East Wickham Farm and recording in France was flawed. The band were a bit slower and less assured than the players on The Kick Inside.

As such, what could have been a case of Bush knowing best and her players blowing any concerns away, they were up against it. Coming into a professional studio in a new country. Not as match-fit as they could have been. It was not their fault. However, I feel that Bush’s band and Powell’s choices could have played together and harmonised. There seemed to be this truce. Bush got her band on a few songs, yet it was clear they would not be a permanent fixture. Powell’s attitude to Bush’s guys was a bit passive-aggressive. He would play with amp settings whilst they were playing. Asking Paddy Bush to track and improvised a part during Kashka from Baghdad. That would be almost impossible. You get the feeling Powell was questioning every take and tuning. It is fascinating that, mere months after a hugely successful album was released, its follow-up would find its producer question Kate Bush and her instincts. Powell felt that Bush’s players were not up to scratch. He would stop takes and question guitar lines. Say that notes were out of tune. Powell wanted the songs to be at their very best. He felt that some performances were substandard and not as polished as they could be. It seemed like Powell was not invited to the party and was hitting back. Bush and her band would have been in one camp and him in the other.

I have huge respect for him and his work, though it seemed like he wanted to keep control and power. With his band in the studio, he would have no obstacles or questions coming his way. Bush did get some studio experience, though it was in an assistant capacity rather than a full co-produce. Think about what Kate Bush was feeling during this time. She wanted her players on the album so that it would be more personal and different to her debut. However, she also knew that the players she had on The Kick Inside would work well and there was no real reason to send them away. Hilary Walker, who was the head of EMI’s international division – thanks to Graeme Thomson for the information! -, was dispatched to Nice to play Devil’s advocate. In fact, briefly acting as Bush’s P.A., she came to insist Bush’s band were fired and sent back to England. Bush was then put in this position of bowing to EMI’s demands and Powell’s disapproval. Her friends, including boyfriend Del Palmer, were dismissed. It meant that, awkwardly, the old band going back to England would either bump into the new band in the studio or at the airport. Imagine the conversation at night between Kate Bush and Del Palmer. Her staying on and Palmer not being involved in the album. Many of the band did hang around by the pool or would go on trips. They did not contribute much and were not needed but, for moral support and some familiarity, it would have been a comfort at least for Bush. However, Charlie Morgan went straight back to England. In July and August, 1978, recording recommenced. The band from The Kick Inside clicking back in. Even if the first few days would have been awkward and a little strained, things did get smoother.

Some claim Bush had a sour taste in her mouth being put in the middle. Others think she was okay but upset. She knew that some of the tougher songs on the album benefitted from a more studied and experienced band. Symphony in Blue is an example. Regardless, there was this moment when everyone had to be on the same page and record. Things did become harmonious and routine. The musicians later to waking up. They would meet by the pool. Diving into the pool or from the villa roof into the pool. Joint being rolled. Bush often involved with that but not always. Notepad and pan in hand to write and jot ideas and lines, she would often sunbathe near-nude. It was refreshing and laid-back. The older male musicians perhaps not used to a women, only just twenty, in their midst! Even if they all lived together under the same roof, shared meals and recorded together, there was no falling out. It was a close-knit group, yet there was this feeling that Bush was a bit tired. The seemingly endless promotion for The Kick Inside and then right into another album. Some of the songs, as Graeme Thomson notes in Under the Ivy: The Life and Music of Kate Bush, give a window into Bush’s mindset. The paranoia of Fullhouse and Coffee Homeground. Even Hammer Horror seems to be appropriately shadowy and tense.

Bush had got so much positive reception for the debut album. Wondering if she should repeat herself or do something different, there was also a feeling she could not please everyone and do right. People claiming she was a record company puppet or someone who was a novelty. In the studio, Bush was hard on herself. In terms of getting the vocal right. Wow went through so many takes! Bush never fully happy with her performance. As assistant producer, she had to try and explain ideas to the musicians. Trying to connect emotionally and bond, she also needed to try and translate her sometimes less technical and honed ideas into something that would understand. Maybe a bit more abstract, conceptual and general than the more studied and rigid notes and guidance they were used to. Unfortunately, there was a bit of mickey-taking and laughing. This young woman maybe not able to put into words her ideas, and the experienced musicians thinking she sometimes was out of her depth. Regardless, Bush knew that the studio offered up so many possibilities. Powell recalls how the two had their own ideas and directions but there wasn’t complete agreement. He didn’t entirely like what she was doing and she didn’t like what he was doing. However, as Powell noted, Bush wasn’t dogmatic. Returning to London in September 1978, Bush was right back into the promotional cyclone.

Jetting off to Australia and New Zealand in October for promotion, is it is amazing to think that, since January 1978, Bush had released her debut single, Wuthering Heights; The Kick Inside came out in February; she was promoting until the summer – including trips to the U.S. and Japan -, and then she recorded and completed her second studio album! I often think what Christmas 1978 was like. Bush, perhaps back in the family home at East Wickham Farm, exchanging gifts, watching some T.V. and celebrating. The first time she got to relax and reflect. Making resolutions for the year ahead. What she did resolve to do was not to work with another producer again. At least one who did not share her values and visions. She wanted more say and control. It would lead to het o mount The Tour of Life in 1979 and use the musicians she wanted to work to. This carried on after the tour when she started recording 1980’s Never for Ever. I think that the ‘two bands’ conflict and situation during Lionheart was a real turning point. It resulted in a disjointed second studio album that then sparked something in Kate Bush. Resolved to use her personnel and produce her own album, she would co-produce Never for Ever with Jon Kelly. From 1982’s The Dreaming onwards, it was her solo in the chair, together with her selected musicians. Rather than Lionheart being a case of a wonderful young artist roaring, it was more of a purr. A purr before a roar, perhaps. I still love the album. You can never really feel the joints or sense two different bands pulling in different directions. Andrew Powell and Kate Bush caught in an awkward situation where they both wanted to get their own say but also work together. Even if the two bands scenario blew over and there was a happier recording environment pretty soon, it was an event that…

CHANGED everything going forward.

FEATURE: High-Tech, Lo-Fi: Have Smartphones Damaged the Gig Experience and Distorted How We Hear Music?

FEATURE:

 

 

High-Tech, Lo-Fi

PHOTO CREDIT: Luke Miller/Pexels

Have Smartphones Damaged the Gig Experience and Distorted How We Hear Music?

_________

THERE is so much debate…

PHOTO CREDIT: Wendy Wei

around the use of phones at gigs. There are artists who insist that the audience leave their phones aside and keep them away. That thing of everyone needing to document gigs. I can understand that people want a memento or proof that they were at gigs. That chance of capturing magic moments or moments that nobody will believe. I absolute loathe when people play videos or music on their phone loudly so others can hear. Those who have conversations and put it on speakerphone without thought of others. Those who have not discovered earbuds or are blissfully unaware that others do not want to hear their music choices, YouTube videos or chat. It is extremely rude and imposing. I think that technology is great in the sense we can listen to music privately and access anything without bothering others. It can be a solitary thing but, actually, you can share albums in a way we never could years ago. A whole library of albums that span decades. The reason I bring these subjects is because I wonder whether technology has improved or hindered how we experience music. When it comes to gigs, I can appreciate people taking photos outside a venue. That is fine. This thing of people taking, let’s face it, blurry and crappy photos of an act. What benefit do they get?! I can’t see how these photos would hold power and memories years from now. Lost in an endless album of other photos that will likely be deleted or discarded. I can never get my head around people filming gigs. How much people lose doing this. I personally would never want to post videos or share what I saw at a gig. You have to be present and experience them. If you are too busy photographing and filming, what is the benefit of physically being at a gig?! You also lose that sense of community and connection. For artists, it can be very distracting. Also, the thing of the audience not looking at the stage. Like there being this conversation and the other person looking at their phone. It has that element of rudeness, even if the person does not mean that.

1 week since @LatitudeFest and we are still not over the love 🤍 Thank you so much for sending us your videos! pic.twitter.com/1YmAiirJMi

— London Grammar (@londongrammar) August 3, 2024

The results of these videos are always poor. Again, like photos, what do you really get from it?! All the videos you see uploaded to Twitter and Instagram are so poor in quality. The sound is awful and tinny. I really hate it. Also, many artists might not want their performances shared to the world. People who paid good money to be at a gig spending so much time not actually engaged with it. There is that thing of nobody being able to experience anything without documenting it. A curse and huge issue that has been here since the advent of smartphones. I do worry that, more and more, we are losing the ability to be able to see something in the flesh without distraction or that thought that we need to capture a photo or video. This is a big conversation point that divides people. If artists are comfortable with people filming them, that is one thing. Other members of the audience might not. Also, it is that amateur nature. The photos and videos are vastly inferior to what you would have seen and heard. So, if you literally miss something to take an inferior version of it, what is the point at all?! Maybe it is not so much about getting something for prosperity and to show people. It is this modern illness most of us have. Not being away from a phone and needing to always be on them, regardless of whether we need to or not. An addiction and dependence. I would say that phones need to be banned from all gigs. Just be in the moment and present! People would say that is too forceful and wrong. If I were a performer, I would want them watching what I was doing. Interacting with each other and being all together. That is how gigs used to be. No other option but to watch the music. Of course, there were disposable cameras; there was not a massive issue of people whacking out their cameras and snapping.

ILLUSTRATION CREDIT: Redbubble

The same with listening to music. I think smartphones encourage people to force music on others. Making it less private so that everyone can hear. I know too that there has always been a problem with people sharing music and not caring. What rankles is the poor quality you get from smartphones. None of the warmth and depth you get from physical music. This may sound like a gripe from someone who was born in the 1980s and is struggling to understand change and modern technology. As a music lover, I can appreciate the value of smartphones. There is that ease of access and, at a time when there are few portable devices for playing physical music on, this is a good option. I tend to find that you lose so much listening to music through a phone. I guess there is no real modern alternative that would be better. As we are streaming music and now and we consume more digitally than physically, we have to adapt. We are told that technological advance is better and good. The more high-tech something is the better. I do not agree when it comes to music. There is something much more enriching and beautiful when it comes to lo-fi. Going to gigs and not being slaves to our phones. Listening to music even through a laptop seems a much preferable option than a smartphone. If you want to share your gig experiences and music, then you can do this privately. I feel that technology has taken something from us. In terms of how we approach live music and experience it. How we digest music and what we get from technology. I am not saying that we need to revert to the past and carry around a Walkman/Discman and completely abandon taking video and photos. I feel there is a real fear from artists that too many that come to their gigs are not participating. I think that phones have done a lot of damage to how we perceive and experience music today. Maybe I am wrong. It is clear that there is…

A lot to discuss.

FEATURE: Is There So Much Hate for the Ones We Love? Kate Bush’s Running Up That Hill (A Deal with God) at Thirty-Nine

FEATURE:

 

 

Is There So Much Hate for the Ones We Love?

Kate Bush’s Running Up That Hill (A Deal with God) at Thirty-Nine

_________

EVERY important Kate Bush album…

PHOTO CREDIT: ZIK Images/United Archives via Getty Images

should be celebrated and discussed. I know that there is enough attention for Running Up That Hill (A Deal with God). However, as it turns thirty-nine tomorrow (5th August), I wanted to write about it. I have spent a bit of time lately concentrating on 1985 and discussing that period. I will move along in future features. Here, it is worth revisiting and diving into Bush’s best-loved song. To this day it remains her most popular track. The most-streamed on Spotify. It reached number one a couple of years ago. After featuring on Stranger Things in 2022, there was this new explosion and interest in a song that was popular from the off. In 1985, it did reach number three in the U.K. It is a pity that more has not been written about one of the absolute greatest songs of all time. I hope there will be more assessment and celebration next year on its fortieth anniversary. The first single from Hounds of Love, Running Up That Hill (A Deal with God) was written and produced by Kate Bush. Stopping to think about that. In terms of the production, there is this atmospheric and epic sound. From that introduction on, you are immersed in the song. It is testament to Kate Bush’s talent as a producer that the track still stands up today and has not dated. I often imagine the track coming together in the studio. Bush imagining it. Piecing it together and experimenting with different lyrics and sonic ideas. I am not sure whether the lyrics came together quickly or there was some back and forth. Talking about the desire for men and women to swap places so they can better understand one another, that was a rare subject in 1985 – or now for that matter. With most artists discussing themselves or love for example, this is a track that was very different to anything around it. Doing some digging, it does seem like Running Up That Hill (A Deal with God) came together naturally and quickly.

There must have been so much inspiration around Bush when she was creating Hounds of Love. From 1983 onwards, she changed her life. From the stress and exhausting working hours of The Dreaming (1982), Bush stepped away from working at London studios and spending endless hours without thinking of herself. She changed her diet to a healthier one and recommitted to dance. As I have said before, she then spent time with her family and boyfriend and built a bespoke studio right next to the family home at East Wickham Farm. With a nicer and less hectic environment, she was imagining these absolutely wonderful songs. I will talk about Running Up That Hill (A Deal with God) more in a minute. First, it is to the Kate Bush Encyclopedia for more detail and background. Also, what Kate Bush had to say about the track and its background:

“Song written by Kate Bush. The song was reportedly written in one evening in the summer of 1983. It was the first song recorded for the subsequent fifth studio album Hounds Of Love. The electronic drums, programmed by Del Palmer, and the Fairlight part were present from the first recording of the song. The lyrics speak of Bush’s impossible wish to become her lover, and he her, so that they could know what the other felt. Kate played the first versions of the songs to Paul Hardiman on 6 October 1983. He commented later: “The first time I heard ‘Running Up That Hill’ it wasn’t a demo, it was a working start. We carried on working on Kate and Del’s original. Del had programmed the Linn drum  part, the basis of which we kept. I know we spent time working on the Fairlight melody/hook but the idea was there plus guide vocals.”

The track was worked on between 4 November and 6 December, with Stuart Elliott adding drums, but closely following the programmed pattern. Alan Murphy added guitar parts whereas Paddy Bush, always providing the most ingenious instruments, played the rather better known balalaika on this track.

The working title of ‘Running Up That Hill’ was ‘A Deal With God’. Representatives at EMI were hesitant to release the single as ‘A Deal With God’ due its use of the word ‘God’, which might lead to a negative reception. Bush relented and changed the title for the single. On the album and subsequent releases the title was ‘Running Up That Hill (A Deal With God)”.

Song written by Kate Bush. The song was reportedly written in one evening in the summer of 1983. It was the first song recorded for the subsequent fifth studio album Hounds Of Love. The electronic drums, programmed by Del Palmer, and the Fairlight part were present from the first recording of the song. The lyrics speak of Bush’s impossible wish to become her lover, and he her, so that they could know what the other felt. Kate played the first versions of the songs to Paul Hardiman on 6 October 1983. He commented later: “The first time I heard ‘Running Up That Hill’ it wasn’t a demo, it was a working start. We carried on working on Kate and Del’s original. Del had programmed the Linn drum  part, the basis of which we kept. I know we spent time working on the Fairlight melody/hook but the idea was there plus guide vocals.”

The track was worked on between 4 November and 6 December, with Stuart Elliott adding drums, but closely following the programmed pattern. Alan Murphy added guitar parts whereas Paddy Bush, always providing the most ingenious instruments, played the rather better known balalaika on this track.

The working title of ‘Running Up That Hill’ was ‘A Deal With God’. Representatives at EMI were hesitant to release the single as ‘A Deal With God’ due its use of the word ‘God’, which might lead to a negative reception. Bush relented and changed the title for the single. On the album and subsequent releases the title was ‘Running Up That Hill (A Deal With God)”.

Kate about ‘Running Up That Hill’

This song is very much about two people who are in love, and how the power of love is almost too big for them. It leaves them very insecure and in fear of losing each other. It’s also perhaps talking about some fundamental differences between men and women. (Kate Bush Club newsletter, 1985)

It is very much about the power of love, and the strength that is created between two people when they’re very much in love, but the strength can also be threatening, violent, dangerous as well as gentle, soothing, loving. And it’s saying that if these two people could swap places – if the man could become the woman and the woman the man, that perhaps they could understand the feelings of that other person in a truer way, understanding them from that gender’s point of view, and that perhaps there are very subtle differences between the sexes that can cause problems in a relationship, especially when people really do care about each other. (The Tony Myatt Interview, November 1985)

‘Running Up That Hill’ was one of the first songs that I wrote for the album. It was very nice for me that it was the first single released, I’d always hoped that would be the way. It’s very much about a relationship between a man and a woman who are deeply in love and they’re so concerned that things could go wrong – they have great insecurity, great fear of the relationship itself. It’s really saying if there’s a possibility of being able to swap places with each other that they’d understand how the other one felt, that when they were saying things that weren’t meant to hurt, that they weren’t meant sincerely, that they were just misunderstood. In some ways, I suppose the basic difference between men and women, where if we could swap places in a relationship, we’d understand each other better, but this, of course, is all theoretical anyway. (Open Interview, 1985)”.

Since Running Up That Hill (A Deal with God) was featured on Stranger Things and gained huge chart success, features have been written about the song. How it has endured and connected with a young audience. I will bring some of those in. Starting out with The New Yorker, they explored this work of genius for a feature in 2022. How, for an artist often seen as experimental and perhaps niche to some, this classic track has gained a wide audience and does not alienate. How Running Up That Hill (A Deal with God) is a TikTok sensation and has gained this whole new influence and importance:

“In her heyday, Bush was the sort of experimental artist whose unorthodoxy actually helped her popularity, and, from the early days of her career, she was commercially successful in the U.K. Bush came from a middle-class English family and dabbled in music alongside her brothers until she was discovered by the Pink Floyd guitarist David Gilmour. She had a striking, acrobatic voice, a love of interpretative dance, and a fantastical visual sensibility that made her especially exciting within Britain’s prog-rock scene. Her début single, “Wuthering Heights,” was the first U.K. No. 1 that was both written and performed by a woman. Still, she never fully managed to cross over to the U.S. charts. “Running Up That Hill” is her first American Top Ten, a feat that comes thirty-seven years after the song’s release. Bush, a typically private person who hasn’t released a new album since 2011, was so struck by the song’s renaissance that she put out an enthusiastic statement on her Web site: “It’s all really exciting!” she wrote. “Thanks very much to everyone who has supported the song. I wait with bated breath for the rest of the series in July.”

Pop music has always recycled its old ideas, but, more and more, it has been revisiting them whole cloth. Information overload and constant digital stimulation have prompted us to compulsively seek refuge in our cultural past, where characters, story lines, and hit singles are reliable and predictable. We see this same tendency on television and in the movies, where reboots and sequels dominate. In music, too, there is eternal solace to be found in trusted old favorites. Each year, the stats of what people listen to on music-streaming services skew more and more heavily toward “catalogue,” or music that is classified as five years or older. Meanwhile, TikTok trends and TV shows resurface old music—whether it’s rarities or bygone classics—exposing dated songs to young audiences who didn’t hear the songs in their prime. In 2020, a skateboarder on TikTok helped Fleetwood Mac’s “Dreams”

It’s tempting to see this phenomenon as a refreshing exception to social media’s dogged recency bias—a serendipitous detour through memory lane that creates a mini-avalanche of attention for an old song. It is genuinely delightful when old songs bubble up in unexpected ways. And yet there’s something a little disconcerting about a once-in-a-generation artist like Bush being removed from the larger backdrop of her strange and singular vision, and accidentally refashioned as a viral event. There is magic in discovering and exploring her work, magic that is difficult to access when all you’ve done is simply turn on the most popular television show in the world.

This constant repurposing of the past also means that the music supervisors who select songs for popular shows are vastly influential as tastemakers and gatekeepers. Along with social-media influencers, they’re bestowed with the mystical power to breathe new life into an old song, particularly if a show is as big as “Stranger Things.” (We saw the phenomenon earlier this year, when the music supervisors of “Euphoria” featured Gerry Rafferty’s croony 1978 song “Right Down the Line” prominently throughout the season.) And yet this type of fresh exposure often does little to shore up an artist’s legacy in our shrinking memories. It was only four years ago, in fact, that Bush had another big TV moment, her voice coursing through the pilot of Ryan Murphy’s drag-ball drama “Pose.” The song was “Running Up That Hill”.

One reason why Running Up That Hill (A Deal with God) is so impactful and speaks to people as it feels personal. Whether you see it about a song asking for universal understanding between men and women or one about a love story and this particular couple, its messages and core resonate and can be understood by everyone. We are living in such a scary time. So much disharmony. So much hatred and misogyny out there. Not that women need to understand men better – as that would excuse their actions -, though it is clear that men need to put themselves in a woman’s place and better understand them. There are a couple of other features I will get to. First, back in 2023, Two Story Melody wrote about a song that can have this very personal potency:

“It feels like something in that song is speaking to you, and no one else.

Then you find out that millions of people are listening to that song and it feels jaded, it feels like it’s no longer special because everyone is in on the secret!

One of the reasons “Running Up That Hill” endures is that it has exploded into popular culture twice in that way and it never feels jaded, never feels overplayed.

And I just wondered… why?

In Stranger Things 4 (you may have heard of that too) the character of Max listens to “Running Up That Hill” a lot, eventually using the song as a kind of talisman. The song is imbued with magical powers which doesn’t seem that far from the actual song itself.

And due to the popularity of the programme, “Running Up That Hill” managed to briefly become one of the most played song in the world, many years after its initial release.

But, for me at least, it never gets old.

Kate Bush wrote the song in 1985, the first song to be composed for her legendary Hounds Of Love album and it makes use of a Fairlight CMI to create the singular signature sound at the start of the song, a warped love-child somewhere between a dog’s yelp and a synth version of some string instrument or other.

The relentless drums, whilst also affected and synthetic, have a tribal quality to them since they hardly change throughout the track, almost as though the song is being used to march to a war somewhere.

Except for a synth pad running throughout the track, the odd guitar growl, and an occasional mandolin-like shimmer, there’s not much else going on.

Apart from that voice.

And what a voice. It’s totally unique, and like many of Kate’s songs, it somehow manages to be vulnerable, strong, commanding, and unbearably emotional, sometimes at the turn of a single lyric.

It carries the song to a place that is urgent and otherworldly. Kate’s harmonies are introduced just when you need them and they are, of course, quite unusual, as are the little explosions of voices in the latter half of the song.

I always thought the song was commenting on a struggle in someone’s life, this person is making a deal with God to swap places with someone, anyone that has an easier time of it, and that meaning, incorrect though it is, is what makes this song powerful. It makes the song a talisman for me, one of the few songs that can often empower me to be stronger than I think I’m able to be.

Whatever meaning people interpret from the song, that magical quality, that embedded weirdness from a place slightly removed from this reality, is what makes “Running Up That Hill” timeless, and endlessly listenable”.

Whilst many explore the lyrics and the way Running Up That Hill (A Deal with God) speaks to them, there is not a lot of analysis about the music and the brilliance of the composition and production. I would advise people read the entirety of this 2022 feature from Music Radar, as it takes us inside the production and engineering. Giving us greater idea as to why Kate Bush’s production particularly should be talked about more. How she brought this song together and had this clear image:

“Kate has stated in interviews that the track began life with her asking Del to program the part on the drum machine, after which she laid down the pad and synth hook from the Fairlight over the top. This might go some way towards explaining the unusual section lengths - it’s possible that the unwaveringly linear nature of the drum loop and pad as a backing track to write over, unpunctuated by fills or cymbals, could be what gave rise to the somewhat freeform nature of the song’s structure.

The wide melodic intervals

Kate has always been renowned for her unusual, twisting melodies that leap up, down around and sometimes even completely off the scale. The melody for Running Up That Hill is in the C Aeolian mode, which means that it’s made up of notes from the C Natural Minor scale. It contains some seriously wide intervals, most notably the minor seventh between the Bb of 'our' and the C of the first syllable of 'places' in the chorus. The D note on the word ‘God’ is very special, grating against the C and Eb of the drone and reinforcing the 9th in that Bb9sus4 chord.

The lyrical content

The song explores the relationship between a man and a woman, wondering what it would be like if they were each able to change places and understand the relationship from the other's point of view. How much easier would life be if we could fully understand one another's perspective through our own experience of it?

Kate is on top lyrical form here, with lines like 'there is thunder in our hearts' and 'not knowing that I'm tearing you asunder' highlighting the drama and unconscious trauma that can be present in a turbulent relationship. Making a deal with God to change places, as an alternative to making a deal with the Devil, is powerful imagery, suggesting that divine intervention is the only way left for the couple to truly understand each other. The presumed end result of the deal is compared to the blissful carefree naivety of running up that hill, with no problems.

The vocal effects

As the track gets more and more urgent and chaotic, with overdriven guitars and thunderous drum fills, the outro chorus repeats are peppered with multiple tracks of manic sounding, random vocal wails mixed in the background, adding a sense of unease and confusion as the track nears its end.

As the track gets more and more urgent and chaotic, with overdriven guitars and thunderous drum fills, the outro chorus repeats are peppered with multiple tracks of manic sounding, random vocal wails mixed in the background, adding a sense of unease and confusion as the track nears its end. Meanwhile, in the last section of the outro, over a satisfyingly-resolved, sustained Cm chord, there's a detuned vocal doubling of the lead that has the demonic effect that only a slowed-down sample can offer. Since the Fairlight did not offer timestretching, this may well have been sung at a normal pitch but at double speed and then sampled and played an octave down on the Fairlight's keyboard to match the track's tempo, which would have achieved that sinister detuned sound at a speed matching the original lead vocal.

After just four bars of this intriguing effect, the pounding drums finally cease abruptly halfway through a bar, leaving just that ethereal pad to slowly fade away, the track ending in an exact mirror image of its beginning”.

It is that chemistry and combination of the relatable and stirring lyrics and the phenomenal production that means Running Up That Hill (A Deal with God) endures more than most songs from 1985. Think about the albums and songs from that time. Few have the same legacy and modern-day relevance as Running Up That Hill (A Deal with God). In 2022, Rolling Stone UK talked about this track having a chart renaissance. It was already a Pop standard originally. I remember hearing it a lot in the 1990s and last couple of decades. However, one cannot deny that it has become more heard and discussed since 2022. Ahead of its thirty-ninth anniversary tomorrow, we need to appreciate how Kate Bush wrote and produced this work of sublime brilliance:

“Beyond its lyrics, the song’s production has given it a lot more longevity than many other songs of the era. Bush used cutting edge technology to create it – its chugging rhythm was composed on a LinnDrum drum machine, while she used a Fairlight CMI, a synthesiser with sampling capabilities, to craft its waifish strings – but the result sounds a lot grittier than other mid-80s pop music. This sound, combined with the song’s unquantifiable pop euphoria, has made it endure in a way that many other 80s time warps haven’t.

Despite the singular idiosyncrasies of ‘Running Up That Hill’, it has been a cover favourite for other artists, who all take a unique angle on it. Placebo’s 2003 reinterpretation turned the track into a ghoulish downtempo alt-rocker with even more youthful angst than the original. Their take on the track quickly became US TV’s version of choice, largely thanks to Bush’s refusal to sanction her original song’s use in shows like The O.C. and C.S.I. Chromatics also put a suspenseful, cinematic twist on the track in 2007, with Ruth Radelet’s lo-fi vocals emitting a diamond sharpness that turns the song into a nocturnal loner anthem.

More recently, country star Jade Bird performed a piano cover of the song for Radio 1’s Live Lounge, which stripped it back to voice and keys, conjuring loss and longing in her brusker baritone. UK artist Georgia delivered a dance-inflected though otherwise faithful rendition in 2020, while just last week pop singer Kim Petras released a cover for Pride Month, and offered her own thoughts on the classic track: “It means so much and it’s so elusive. You can definitely decide what you want it to mean. For me, it’s about equality. And my timing for this was strangely perfect!”

@sheiskatebush Running Up That Hill (A Deal With God) (1985) #musictok #trending #katebushtok #katebush #fyp #viral ♬ original sound - sheiskatebush

Kate Bush herself revisited her classic anthem in 2012, recording new vocals for a version that premiered at that year’s London Olympics. While the instrumental backing track remained the same, it was pitched down to accommodate Bush’s new vocal range – her voice was deeper than it was three decades prior. And so, not for the last time, ‘Running Up That Hill’ re-entered the UK top 10 – and it would return to the charts again two years later, when Bush announced her first live performances since 1979. That time, the world didn’t just go crazy for ‘Running Up That Hill’ but the entire Kate Bush catalogue, with eight of her albums shooting up the charts simultaneously, and her website crashing from the demand for tickets. At the residency at the Hammersmith Apollo, ‘Running Up That Hill’ was the only song that had previously been performed live, such is the special place it holds for Bush and her fans.

In an interview with Open in 1985, Kate Bush said that the song was “really saying if there’s a possibility of being able to swap places with each other that they’d understand how the other one felt, that when they were saying things that weren’t meant to hurt, that they weren’t meant sincerely, that they were just misunderstood”. A cry for empathy and for understanding – these are timeless themes. Looking at how Bush views the song herself, no wonder it’s endured for so long”.

I don’t think that we can claim Running Up That Hill (A Deal with God) alone is responsible for a new generation discovering her music. However, it clear there is something ageless and accessible about the song. It means something different to everyone yet, in a strange way, it means the same thing! It bonds us all. We can all understand what Kate Bush weas saying in 1983 – when she wrote the song -, and yet we take something unique from the lyrics. The production that brings all the elements to life. That iconic video of Kate Bush and Michael Hervieu entwined in this beautiful and jaw-dropping dance. I hope that the video gets a 4K remaster (an official one) sometime, as it is Kate Bush’s go-to song for many. Thirty-nine years since its release and it seems more popular and important than ever. Written back in 1983, it would have been inconceivable that Running Up That Hill (A Deal with God) would be celebrated more than forty years later! First putting pen to paper all those years back…

SHE could never have imagined that!

FEATURE: Madonna at Sixty-Six: Will We See Anniversary Releases for Two of Her Greatest Albums?

FEATURE:

 

 

Madonna at Sixty-Six

IN THIS PHOTO: Madonna in 1994/PHOTO CREDIT: Andy Earl 

Will We See Anniversary Releases for Two of Her Greatest Albums?

_________

I will publish two more features…

IN THIS PHOTO: Madonna in 1984/PHOTO CREDIT: Tabak/Sunshine/Retna UK

about Madonna ahead of her sixty-sixth birthday on 16th August. I will move next to a mixtape with her hits and some deep cuts. Thinking about Madonna, I realise that two of her very best albums have big anniversaries coming later in the year. 1984’s Like a Virgin and 1994’s Bedtime Stories are two very different albums. I hope that there are special releases that expand on these remarkable works that came at pivotal times. Like a Virgin was released on 12th November, 1984. It came the year after her eponymous album. After Madonna was launched into the market and there was this success and acclaimed, she followed it with an album that received mixed reviews at the time but is now regarded as a classic and hugely influential. I want to look at this album before moving to Bedtime Stories. The legendary Nile Rodgers was chosen as the album’s producer. Madonna wanted Like a Virgin to be a success. Already so ambitious, Madonna selected all the songs for the album. She wrote six of the songs on her own; five she penned with former boyfriend and collaborator, Stephen Bray. It must have been fascinating recording the album. Like a Virgin’s recording took place at Power Station Studio in New York City. A culturally important and huge moment for Pop music, there is no doubt that Like a Virgin is classic. One of the best albums of the 1980s. I want to bring in a feature and a review for Like a Virgin. Nearly forty years ago, this album took Madonna from a rising artist who was a queen of the New York club scene to a worldwide sensation. Perhaps the most important artist in the world. In 2021, Classic Pop examined and dissected the second studio album from Madonna:

“As New York’s achingly hip art set gathered at legendary nightclub the Paradise Garage on 16 May 1984 to celebrate artist Keith Haring’s first Party Of Life, the girl who had once dominated the dancefloor with her exuberant moves to Larry Levan’s iconic DJ sets, took to the stage for a special guest appearance in front of the vibrant crowd of which she had once been a part.

Having spent three months holed up in the city’s Power Station studios, Madonna saw the Party Of Life as the perfect platform to premiere two brand new tracks from her recently wrapped second album.

Although she was excited to air her new material for the very first time, the hipster audience remained largely indifferent as she performed Like A Virgin from a bed adorned with white lace before changing into a customised Haring jacket and skirt for Dress You Up.

Only pop culture prophet Andy Warhol had the foresight to recognise the earth-shattering potential of these new songs. “The crowd didn’t really take to Madonna,” recalls artist Kenny Scharf. “But Andy loved her – he told everyone that she was going to be the biggest thing ever.”

Madonna had been working on her second album since the beginning of 1984, penning songs with long-time friend and writing partner Stephen Bray. Her self-titled debut album had been a disappointing experience for her creatively, leaving her frustrated at how little her input and ideas had been welcomed by producer Reggie Lucas.

Despite the moderate success of that LP and Holiday becoming a Top 20 hit, Madonna was keen to move on and start work on her next project – and to do so on her own terms.

Determined not to repeat the mistakes of her debut and to ensure that the album would be exactly as she envisioned it, Madonna informed her label that she wanted to produce the record herself, a request that was immediately vetoed, much to her fury.

Aside from her previous LP not sounding the way she had wanted (with the exception of the tracks she and John ‘Jellybean’ Benitez had remixed before release), Madonna felt that she wasn’t taken seriously, and her talent was being undermined.

She saw the second album as her chance to prove herself. Livid that Warner Brothers didn’t believe in her enough to grant her full creative control, she publicly vented during interviews, detailing her battles against label bosses to who she referred to as “a hierarchy of old men”.

“It’s a chauvinistic environment to be working in because I’m treated like this sexy little girl,” she fumed to Rolling Stone. “I always have to prove them wrong. This is what happens when you’re a girl – it wouldn’t happen to Prince or Michael Jackson. I had to do everything on my own and convince people that I was worth a record deal. After that, I had the same problem trying to convince them I had more to offer than a one-off girl singer. I have to win this fight.”

Refusing to back down, the record label offered Madonna a compromise – the choice of any producer she wanted. Mollified, she appealed to Sire Records boss Seymour Stein for help in a letter in which her frustrations over “the producer predicament” were evident.

“Here I am forced to choose a man once again – help me!” she wrote, listing possibilities such as Trevor Horn, Jellybean, Laurie Latham, Narada Michael Walden and Nile Rodgers before signing off, “Furious love, Madonna”.

Although she had presented a shortlist of ideal collaborators, Madonna had made it clear that Rodgers was her first choice, declaring him a “genius”, citing his production work with Diana Ross, Sister Sledge and David Bowie as examples, as well as his own Chic records which she adored.

A meeting with Nile was arranged during which she played him the demos she’d written with Stephen Bray and told him: “If you don’t love these songs we can’t work together”. Affronted by her bluntness, Rodgers later revealed that he told her: “I don’t love them now, but I will when I’ve finished working on them!”

Satisfied, Madonna accepted her label’s offer to have Nile produce the entire album. Writing in his autobiography, Le Freak, Nile revealed that the fee he earned for producing the album was more than most artists earn from their own records, adding: “I’m pretty sure she hasn’t paid a producer as much since then either!”

The subject of money remained prevalent once recording had begun, with Madonna’s tyrannical manner of communicating with musicians proving problematic. She was in every recording session for the entire duration – whether she was required to be or not and expected similar dedication from the personnel.

If a musician arrived late or didn’t seem to be giving 110%, Madonna barked at them, “Time is money, and the money is mine!”, something which did not go down well with the experienced professionals.

Nile had brought along the Chic Organisation band with him to play on the record, including bassist Bernard Edwards and drummer Tony Thompson, as well as sound engineer Jason Corsaro whose idea it was to record digitally, at the time a new way of recording.

The combination of synths and programmed drums with live instrumentation gave the album its bombastic, dynamic sound, elevating it from the dance-pop feel of Madonna’s earlier tracks which she felt were “weak”.

Despite the band having a wealth of experience between them, working across genres and with a myriad of artists, Madonna had no qualms about telling them if she didn’t like the way they were playing something or suggesting alternatives.

Whether it was because she’d been burned by the experience on her debut album and felt the need to overcompensate to make her ideas heard or was just plain rude, the band did not appreciate someone they saw essentially as a rookie being so abrasive and disrespectful towards them.

On one occasion, after she furiously berated a musician for taking a toilet break, Nile walked out of the studio and told her he was leaving the project, forcing Madonna to apologise and rethink the way she communicated from that point onwards. Though it wouldn’t be the last time they would have disagreements, they were resolved cordially.

The restless singer utilised the time that she had originally planned to be promoting her album by flying to Venice to shoot the video for Like A Virgin and signed on to star in her debut film, Desperately Seeking Susan. She also worked with stylist Maripol and photographer Steven Meisel on a series of photoshoots which would become the cover of the album and singles.

Playing with the virgin/whore dichotomy, her name and the album title were completely at odds with the overtly sexual image she presented, dressed in bridal regalia, lingerie, crucifixes and a ‘Boy Toy’ belt buckle.

The wanton bride persona became emblematic of the Like A Virgin era, and never was it more impactful than Madonna’s iconic performance at the first MTV Awards in September 1984. Her first major performance of the track, she began it atop a giant wedding cake and ended it lying on the floor with her underwear on full display.

While some of her peers slammed the brazen sexuality of her performance as trashy and cheap – her manager Freddy DeMann was backstage furious thinking her outrageous set was career ending – the appearance could not have garnered better publicity for Madonna, whose rebellious spirit endeared her to legions of teenage girls across the US. With her name on everyone’s lips, the timing was perfect for the unveiling of the single and album in November 1984.

“It’s a lot more grown up than my first album,” the proud star told MTV. “It’s more well-rounded, style-wise. My first one was termed a dance record and was all up-tempo dance music, but this one has a lot of different sounds. There’s stuff that sounds like old Motown, there’s stuff that’s very high-energy, some songs are very English-sounding, very techno, there’s lots of synths, and two ballads. Ultimately, it shows my growth as a singer and as a songwriter.”

The album received mixed reviews from critics but was a commercial smash, transforming Madonna from pop star to pop icon, sparking ‘Madonnamania’.

It reached No.1 around the world and dominated the charts for most of 1985 thanks to its four hits (its singles run was punctuated by Crazy For You and Gambler from the Vision Quest soundtrack as well as chart re-entries of her older singles), the Virgin Tour of the US and a show-stopping performance at Live Aid.

In the UK, the album was re-released to include Into The Groove (taken from the soundtrack to Desperately Seeking Susan), extending its success even further, leading to eventual sales of over 21 million copies worldwide.

In January 1984, Madonna had shocked the world when she announced to Dick Clark on American Bandstand that she wanted to rule the world. Just 18 months later, thanks to the astounding success of Like A Virgin, she was well on her way to achieving it”.

Before moving onto Bedtime Stories, I want to source a review from AllMusic. I know that Like a Virgin got some mixed reception and still does. People criticising the lyrical context and sexuality. Others attacking Madonna’s vocals. One cannot deny how Like a Virgin has inspired generations of artists and is this moment when Madonna was confirmed as the Queen of Pop. If you have not heard the album - or not heard it for a while – then go and seek it out:

“Madonna had hits with her first album, even reaching the Top Ten twice with "Borderline" and "Lucky Star," but she didn't become a superstar, an icon, until her second album, Like a Virgin. She saw the opening for this kind of explosion and seized it, bringing in former Chic guitarist Nile Rodgers in as a producer, to help her expand her sound, and then carefully constructed her image as an ironic, ferociously sexy Boy Toy; the Steven Meisel-shot cover, capturing her as a buxom bride with a Boy Toy belt buckle on the front, and dressing after a night of passion, was as key to her reinvention as the music itself. Yet, there's no discounting the best songs on the record, the moments when her grand concepts are married to music that transcends the mere classification of dance-pop. These, of course, are "Material Girl" and "Like a Virgin," the two songs that made her an icon, and the two songs that remain definitive statements. They overshadow the rest of the record, not just because they are a perfect match of theme and sound, but because the rest of the album vacillates wildly in terms of quality. The other two singles, "Angel" and "Dress You Up," are excellent standard-issue dance-pop, and there are other moments that work well ("Over and Over," "Stay," the earnest cover of Rose Royce's "Love Don't Live Here"), but overall, it adds up to less than the sum of its parts -- partially because the singles are so good, but also because on the first album, she stunned with style and a certain joy. Here, the calculation is apparent, and while that's part of Madonna's essence -- even something that makes her fun -- it throws the record's balance off a little too much for it to be consistent, even if it justifiably made her a star”.

Maybe it is too late for a special vinyl reissue of Like a Virgin. No real documentary around the album. I hope that there is some celebration and something special happening close to November. Forty years of a wonderful album. If Like a Virgin arrived a year after Madonna’s debut and kept this momentum and trajectory going, there was something of the need for revival and recovery with 1994’s Bedtime Stories. 1992’s Erotica was Madonna at her most explosive and sexually charged. Raw, open and challenging, many critics took against it. Feeling she was being too explicit and shocking. Trying to provoke outrage. Although Bedtime Stories was not vastly different and a softer album, it was tonally different. If Human Nature nods and cheekily attacks those who condemned Madonna, other songs are more revealing and explorative in a way we did not see on Erotica. Maybe ‘mature’ would be the wrong word. Less sexually charged and erotica. It is hard to say why Bedtime Stories is both an evolution and her still pushing boundaries. Maybe more sonically and in terms of her lyrics rather than in an explicit way. We need to talk more about Erotica and how it was dismissed by so many. Bedtime Stories is a phenomenal album that should get a thirtieth anniversary reissue. Released on 25th October, 1994, Bedtime Stories arrived in a year where perhaps other artists were ruling. Madonna was still the Queen of Pop, though the scene had changed and it was maybe harder for her to stay at the top. A hugely successful album, there was this divide between the sales and the reviews.

Some praising this new direction. Others feeling the material was weak. Critics who felt Madonna had gone too far on Erotica and she needed to soften her image, today, would be seen as bullies or misogynists. It is awful that Madonna came under scrutiny and was almost forced to tone down her music and come back with an album that was more commercial and less edgy. Even so, Bedtime Stories is remarkable and stands up to this day. In 2014, VICE looked back twenty years at Madonna’s sixth studio album:

“For as long as Madonna has made music, she has endured relentless criticism for her sexuality. She’s been perhaps the most consistent target in the music industry, drawing critiques for more than three decades, and reviews of her work have served as a roadmap for how we scrutinize women at each stage in their music career. Whether it was public speculation on why she isn’t “like a virgin” or it was chastising her middle-aged body in a leotard, the shaming has had many iterations despite its one unwavering resolution: She goes too far.

That’s why her album Bedtime Stories, even as it celebrates its 20th anniversary, is still her most important work. For months leading up to its release, it was marketed as an apology for her sexual behavior, and critics hoped it would be her return to innocence. Instead, she offered a lyrical #sorrynotsorry and a response to the problem of female musicians being scrutinized for their sexuality rather than their music. As a result of the public’s moral concerns, it has become Madonna's most quietly important album, setting the tone for how artists deal with critiques of their sex life.

In 1992, Madonna released Erotica, a techno concept album and ode to bondage, alongside the coffee table book Sex, a softcore pornographic photo catalog of her and her pals. The concurrent releases created enormous and long-running backlash, resulting in multiple countries banning the album from radio airplay and the Vatican banning Madonna from entering. Madonna was already well established as an icon, but her frank lyrics on S&M and published photographs of analingus incited the harshest public outrage in her career. Bedtime Stories was slated to be her one last chance at redemption, and Warner Brothers agreed to produce it under the auspices of a less provocative image.

Both the label and her publicist Liz Rosenberg did everything they could to reverse the damage from Madonna's last projects. They had her release the soundtrack single “I’ll Remember” to bring her a family-friendly hit and further increase speculation that Bedtime Stories would convey her apology. The album’s promo video promises that there will be “no sexual references on the album” and even panders with Madonna saying “it’s a whole new me! I’m going to be a good girl, I swear.”

Advertisement

Madonna-shaming was a two-part construct: First she was scorned for her sexuality, and then she was eclipsed by it. Since it cited her sex appeal as her sole commodity, the promo video had everyone wondering what she was going to sing about if the topic wasn’t sex. Speculation leading up to Bedtime Stories focused on her exit plan for becoming irrelevant, whether she planned on future facelifts, and what she would offer as a middle-aged version of herself.

“When you’re a celebrity, you’re allowed to have one personality trait. Which is ridiculous,” Madonna told the Detroit News in 1993. When Bedtime Stories was finally released on October 25, she addressed both aspects of the shaming process. Despite the promises in her promo, she continued to acknowledge her sexual desires, although she also experimented with the sound and subject matter. Beginning with “Survival,” a song she co-wrote with Dallas Austin, Madonna doesn’t hesitate to address the backlash and sings “I’ll never be an angel / I’ll never be a saint it’s true / I’m too busy surviving.” The lyrics continue to convey a loosely drawn narrative of the punishment she endured from the media and her feelings leading up to the release, and the songs are carried mostly by R&B melodies produced by Austin, Nellee Hooper, and Babyface.

The definitive single on the album is an explicit rebuke of the backlash. In “Human Nature,” she confirms that wasn’t sorry and that she’s not anyone’s bitch, and she paired the song perfectly with a video that toys with bondage like an Erotica throwback. Right when she is about to drop the mic she whispers, “would it sound better if I were a man?”

Madonna asserted her lack of apology on the grounds that she had not said or did anything unusual; it was simply unusual for a woman to say it. In an interview with the LA Times, she defended Bedtime Stories by saying “I’m being punished for being a single female, for having power and being rich and saying the things I say, being a sexual creature—actually, not being any different from anyone else, but just talking about it. If I were a man, I wouldn't have had any of these problems. Nobody talks about Prince's sex life.”

Beyond offering Madonna’s final word on the scandal of her sexuality, the album pivots to address the misconception that her sexual persona limited her versatility as an artist. The narrative in Bedtime Stories immediately turns introspective, relating “I know how to laugh / but I don't know happiness.” While the album borrows mostly from R&B and new jack swing, it becomes more experimental with the Bjork-penned title track, accompanied with a video that could not have explored the collective unconscious better if Carl Jung directed it. The video for "Bedtime Story" is the first instance of what would become Madonna’s long history of culture-plucking spiritual inquiry, and to this day is stored in a collection at the Museum of Modern Art. As a pair, “Human Nature” and “Bedtime Story” prove that Madonna owned her sexuality and would not be eclipsed by it. While the former fully embraces the decisions she made with previous albums, the latter dismantles the “slut” narrative that her overt sexuality discredits her depth as a performer. Surely people would see this as a feminist masterpiece, no?

Still, critics didn’t get it. The New York Times’ Jon Pareles waxed nostalgic for when “Madonna thrived in the 1980s on being sensational and suggestive against a tame mainstream backdrop,” calling her more recent work “vulgar instead of shocking.” Critical reception continued to focus on the scandal of her attitude rather than the actual record. “Madonna's career has never really been about music; it's been about titillation, about image, about publicity,” began one TIME review, which wasn’t unique in its premise. Any mention of the album’s experimental sound or numerous collaborations were overshadowed by her promiscuous image and once again left cheapened. Bedtime Stories as an album was not the clear apology the public demanded, and its emotional depth was largely ignored. At best, it was thought of as Madonna’s return to a safer expression of sexuality.

The record found commercial success with the release of “Secret,” and “Take a Bow,” but the two most important songs never broke into the Top 40, a problem Madonna hadn’t faced in nearly ten years. Today, Bedtime Stories is not the first album that comes to mind in Madonna’s legacy. It is, however, the most relevant to many of the cultural conversations that are still happening. Had she acquiesced to the public’s call for apology, it could have set a dangerous standard for how the public can decree an artist’s silence, and it would have allowed the categories for female singers to remain in place. Critical anticipation of the album predicted either a penitent pop star or a one-dimensional sexpot. She defeated both categories, and left the critics to ponder if sexuality and solidity are as mutually exclusive as they had hoped”.

There are many reviews to choose from. Very few are all-out positive: they usually come with a bit of a kick or something constructive. In 1994, Rolling Stone provided their take on Bedtime Stories. I remember in 1994 what a huge event the album was. So many eyes on Madonna and how she would follow Erotica. Bedtime Stories contains my favourite Madonna song, Take a Bow. I do hope that there is some form of reissue or at least reappraisal of a compelling and important album:

“After the drubbing she has taken in the last few years, Madonna deserves to be mighty mad. And wounded anger is shot through her new album, Bedtime Stories, as she works out survival strategies. While always a feminist more by example than by word or deed, Madonna seems genuinely shocked at the hypocritical prudishness of her former fans, leading one to expect a set of biting screeds. But instead of reveling in raised consciousness, Bedtime Stories demonstrates a desire to get unconscious. Madonna still wants to go to bed, but this time it’s to pull the covers over her head.

Still, in so doing, Madonna has come up with some awfully compelling sounds. In her retreat from sex to romance, she has enlisted four top R&B producers: Atlanta whiz kid Dallas Austin, Kenneth “Babyface” Edmonds, Dave “Jam” Hall and Britisher Nellee Hooper (Soul II Soul), who add lush soul and creamy balladry. With this awesome collection of talent, the record verily shimmers. Bass-heavy grooves push it along when more conventional sentiments threaten to bog it down. Both aspects put it on chart-smart terrain.

A number of songs — “Survival,” “Secret,” “I’d Rather Be Your Lover” (to which Me’Shell NdegéOcello brings a bumping bass line and a jazzy rap) — are infectiously funky. And Madonna does a drive-by on her critics, complete with a keening synth line straight outta Dre, on “Human Nature”: “Did I say something wrong?/Oops, I didn’t know I couldn’t talk about sex (I musta been crazy).”

But you don’t need her to tell you that she’s “drawn to sadness” or that “loneliness has never been a stranger,” as she sings on the sorrowful “Love Tried to Welcome Me.” The downbeat restraint in her vocals says it, from the tremulously tender “Inside of Me” to the sob in “Happiness lies in your own hand/It took me much too long to understand” from “Secret.”

The record ultimately moves from grief to oblivion with the seductive techno pull of “Sanctuary.” The pulsating drone of the title track (co-written by Björk and Hooper), with its murmured refrain of “Let’s get unconscious, honey,” renounces language for numbness.

Twirled in a gauze of (unrequited) love songs, Bedtime Stories says, “Fuck off, I’m not done yet.” You have to listen hard to hear that, though. Madonna’s message is still “Express yourself, don’t repress yourself.” This time, however, it comes not with a bang but a whisper”.

As it is Madonna’s birthday on 16th August, I wanted to spend some time with her music and legacy. I thought about two very different but amazing albums that have been anniversaries coming in the next couple/few months. Like a Virgin was this stunning sophomore album some took against. Now, you cannot deny its impact and influence. Bedtime Stories, in contrast, felt more like rebuilding and regrouping. After such backlash in 1992, Madonna could have dug down and gone even further. What she did release was one of her most albums. Critics didn’t really give her the credit that she deserved. I hope that there is anniversary celebration. If even Madonna did not appreciate how remarkable Bedtimes Stories was in 1994, today she can truly…

TAKE a bow.

FEATURE: The Queen of Pop at Sixty-Six: A Madonna Birthday Mixtape

FEATURE:

 

 

The Queen of Pop at Sixty-Six

IN THIS PHOTO: Madonna on the set of MTV in 1984/PHOTO CREDIT: Mark Weiss

A Madonna Birthday Mixtape

_________

I am throwing ahead…

PHOTO CREDIT: Madonna

to 16th August and the sixty-sixth birthday of the Queen of Pop. The legendary and mighty Madonna still is a true icon who is proving that she has no competition. Having completed her Celebration Tour recently and demonstrated that she is one of the most captivating and awe-inspiring live performers ever, we wonder what comes next. There may be a new album at some point. Following from 2019’s Madame X. Her second studio album, Like a Virgin, turns forty later in the year. Bedtime Stories turns thirty. Madonna has announced that she is reviving the music biopic. Potentially called Who’s That Girl, it is high time that we saw a definitive biopic of one of the greatest artists ever. It is likely going to be directed and co-written by Madonna. It is going to be fascinating and long overdue. It seems like there is a lot ahead. Whether we get new music or not this year, there is sure to be activity from Madonna. As her birthday is on 16th August, I am going to write another feature about her. She truly is one of the most distinct and important artists. Someone who has inspired so many others through the years. I wanted to come to a mixtape of some of her best tracks. A sixty-six track salute, this is a nod to the range and brilliance of her music. Whether you are a new fan or someone who has been with her since the start, this birthday salute should…

GET you into the groove.

FEATURE: The Kick Outside: Kate Bush: The Conflict Between the Image of Her As a Serious Artist and the Press Perception

FEATURE:

 

 

The Kick Outside

IN THIS PHOTO: Kate Bush in 1978/PHOTO CREDIT: Gered Mankowitz

Kate Bush: The Conflict Between the Image of Her As a Serious Artist and the Press Perception

_________

THIS is something…

IN THIS PHOTO: Kate Bush in 1978/PHOTO CREDIT: Gered Mankowitz

that I have covered before. I wanted to revisit it. Like I will mention in many features at the moment, I am re-reading Graeme Thomson’s Under the Ivy: The Life and Music of Kate Bush. It has been reissued, and I am getting all sorts of new inspiration and influence. Thinking about Kate Bush in new ways. Some of the most interesting sections of the book take us to the beginning of her career. When the teenage artist was just starting out. Right from the off, Kate Bush was caught in this conflict. She wanted to announce herself as a serious artist and be taken on her own merit. There was no zeal for fame or anything like that. From a family that was very supportive, there was a lot of art and culture around the Bush household. There was never any suggestion that she would be a novelty act or someone here for a short time. This was someone who was vastly mature and developed on her debut album. If you think about teenage artists of the 1980s and 1990s, what Kate Bush delivered in 1978 was so much more advanced and sophisticated. Unfortunately, from her debut single onwards, there was this pull between critical perception and how others saw Kate Bush. Wuthering Heights was released in January 1978 and climbed to number one. Largely on the strength of radio play and the public, there was this mix of ridicule and amazement How Kate Bush was perceived in 1978, and how she would be viewed for many years after, came after that debut single. Instantly fodder for satirists and impressionists, Bush had a good sense of humour and took it in her stride. It seems heartbreaking that someone who should have been adored and seen as an innovator and hugely original voice, instead, was often derided and sent up. Seen as something of an oddity by many!

That feeling that Kate Bush was instantly reduced to being a target. That she was somehow stupid or weird. The media, not used to an independent and singular female artist making music on her own term, instead of valuing her music and what she said, boiled everything down to her age, gender and class. As such, when The Kick Inside was released, it was not really judged on merit and depth. Many had already written Kate Bush off or labelled her a caricature or punchline. The media focused heavily on Bush’s age. She was nineteen when her debut album and single came out. It was not like she was extremely young and rare. Many artists around her were similar age. The fact she came from a comfortable family made her another target for those who felt she was spoiled or privileged. It has nothing to do with her music or personality. Bush was incredible grounded and modest. Not someone who got into the industry because of wealth or connections. It was the sexual side that was hugely focused on. Sexist and misogynistic, the media were fixated on Bush’s looks and body rather than taking the time to listen to her music and go beyond the surface. With no comparable peers, the media did not know what to make of Kate Bush. Many thought that a man must be behind her success. How could a young woman with such talent and originality do it without some guy behind her?! Almost like journalists today accusing female artist of being industry plants, Kate Bush was seen by some as being led by others.

Bush was caught in an awkward position in early interviews. With the media over-sexualising her and there being this perception of her, Bush played down her sexuality in interview. Coquettish or dismissive, as Graeme Thomson writes in his Kate Bush biography, it was nonsense she should play it down. Sexuality and her sensual, poetic side was integral to her work and being. Bush was never shy or ashamed about expressing her sexual desires. Her sexual urges and lusts were a huge part of her writing. That does not mean that who she was purely. The media missing the point entirely. That instinct to sexualise and fetishize a female artist when they would never do that for a male artist. Some early photoshoots and pictures did not help things. One, shot by Gered Mankowitz, for the Wuthering Heights cover, was a big talking point. A pose of Bush in a pink leotard where we could see her nipples unfortunately was shared and appeared far and wide. It was scrapped as the single cover and an inferior image used. The image could have been cropped and, to be fair, was not explicit or suggestive. People focusing on sex and prurient rather than the expression on Kate Bush’s face and the artistic merit of an iconic shot. It is no surprise that her brothers Jay and Paddy became very protective of their sister. Jay particular was unhappy with the way his sister was sexualised and it was distracting from her music. With them – and the family – being referred to as the Bush Family Mafia by some, it was this tussle between the label and outside forces…and the need to protect family. Gered Mankowitz actually took a series of shots at Great Windmill Street. It was about the reaction to Wuthering Heights and reacting with images. He mixed leotards with woollen socks. Unfortunately, advertising agencies choice the shot with her nipples showing and plastered it on buses and billboards. In a way, from that moment on, the way she would be perceived by the media was set in stone. I think that the public has a different view. Not focusing on her sexuality and gender.

IN THIS PHOTO: Kate Bush in March 1978/PHOTO CREDIT: Kent Gavin/Daily Mirror/Mirrorpix

Jay particularly was strong-willed and clashed with the record label. EMI were not as concerned about the Gered Mankowitz shot and the way it became this defining image of Kate Bush. There started this years-running tussle between the Kate Bush family and labels/the press. This conflict between those seen as not viewing Kate Bush as serious, and her family protecting their sister/daughter as a serious artist. The Bush family were very effective and efficient when it came to protecting the artist. There weas a brief moment when Bush had a manager. He was soon let go. This need to have some sort of discipline or figure that could help manage and temporise a lot of the media frenzy and tabloidisation. In the end, it was about the art and ensuring that Kate Bush was protected and allowed to fulfil her vision. Anything periphery and inessential was jettisoned. Things did eventually improve when it came to the media perception of Bush. Maybe after 1985 things changed. That is seven long years that Kate Bush had to answer questions regarding her looks. It was good that John (Jay) Carder Bush photographed his sister a lot, as that allowed some natural protection. Some positive control.

Gered Mankowitz shot Bush until 1979. Guido Harari came in and was trusted. He worked with Kate Bush into the 1990s. John Carder Bush being the most long-running and stable sensei and guide when it came to forging the image the world had of Kate Bush. It is annoying that it took so long for people to respect and understand Kate Bush! Not to focus on her family background and sexuality. That quest to change the conversation and perception. I don’t think that her fans and record-buyers saw her in the same terms as the media. Bush herself was comfortable with her sexuality, though I feel albums like Hounds of Love (1985) and The Sensual World (1989) – made and released when she was in her twenties and early-thirties – was a deliberate shift towards something perhaps more sensual and grown-up than sexual and naïve. More artistic. That might seem unfair. One can say Bush never played into the media intrigue and odd angle. She was making music that was meaningful to her. Each album different. After 1978, photoshoots did change. The image of her being addressed and shifted. Her debut album is beautiful and awe-inspiring. Unfortunately, there was this battle to let the music speak and define who she was. That was not the way. With The Kick Inside, Kate Bush faced…

THE kick outside.

FEATURE: A Rise in Misogyny and Violence: Thinking About the Women in Music

FEATURE:

 

 

A Rise in Misogyny and Violence

PHOTO CREDIT: MART PRODUCTION/Pexels

Thinking About the Women in Music

_________

THIS year…

PHOTO CREDIT: Getty Images/Meriel Jane Waissman

has been terrible for so many reasons. Aside from genocide and bloodshed, there is political extremism and this feeling that things will never be okay. It seems every year brings new horror. Not to over-generalise or play the blame game. When you think about the perpetrators and those initiating violence and destruction, it is men. Most will say that this has always been the way. That doesn’t excuse what is happening or play it down. The reality is, when we look at all the bloodshed around the world and the evil that is being unleashed, it is led by men. It has been a really terrible time. Barely a week goes by where we do not see misogyny and violence make the news. The rise in misogyny has also been a real source of concern. It has been harrowing to see. I think that it is concerning that it could impact women in the music industry. It has always affected them but, as there seems to be this epidemic and harrowing rise in cases of violence and misogyny, it is hugely concerning. Look at what is happening online and the sort of debates there. I follow women (and men) who are feminists and are often attacked and threatened by men. Having to deal with the most vile and distressing comments. When they highlight cases of male violence and misogyny, they are often met with huge hostility and threats. Degrading language and awful insults. Not to say that all men are culpable. That would be ridiculous. What we do know is that there is this multi-generational misogyny that only can expand and spread. Young boys are being influenced by figures like Andrew Tate. Sexist language is growing in schools. There is this acceleration and virus of misogyny online that is being viewed by young people. All of this makes for a very bleak future. The way girls and young women are viewed. It is almost like we have stepped back decades. Though it is worse now. The way this sort of hatred and violent language can spread so fast.

PHOTO CREDIT: Tim Gouw/Pexels

Boys and men seem more vulnerable to extreme views. It does not just stop at language and views. What some might feel stops on a laptop and does not spread into the world is. There is violence in schools. Misogyny on the streets. The murder of three girls recently in Southport. The stories we see of women attacked and killed by men. The endless and horrendous misogyny that is rampant online. Social media and the Internet is a perfect breeding ground for this tsunami of misogyny and violence against women. It is not only influencers who are grooming young minds. Those who do not follow influencers expressing their disgusting views. It does not stop at the computer. There has been this physical outpouring. Those in denial are part of the problem. Nobody can think that the problem is small or does not exist. I think there is also a lack of male allyship. In terms of calling this behaviour out. Think about the fact women are defending their corner, speaking about threats to them and a huge problem faced by so many of their sisters. I do feel that there is this bleeding into the music industry. More cases of women through music talking about their experiences. If the music industry is a safer environment than many others, there is still this real danger. For decades, women have been exposed to harassment, violence and abuse at gigs. Feeling unsafe and abused. There is a lot of hatred and sexism online. Threats of violence. I don’t think that these issues have shifted or been tackled. Not by as many people as there should be. There is support from men in the industry, but the heavy lifting and hard work is being done by women. Again, nobody can relax and think that misogyny and this rise in violence against women and girls will not more severely infiltrate and influence the music industry. We do not have to look too far back to see high-profile artists spotlighted because of abuse towards women. Online, I am seeing myself this unnerving rise in misogyny.

PHOTO CREDIT: MART PRODUCTION/Pexels

I am worried by the news and what we are all seeing! There are explanations as to why misogyny has risen. Taking the form of coercion, gaslighting, violence, murder and abuse, we have odd contrast of women slowly but surely being celebrated in music and this long-running inequality being tackled – if far slower than it should! – together with this worldwide and infuriating lack of respect for women. The way they are viewed by so many men. This is a moment when those in power in the music industry need to take a stand and send out messages. There is a lot of love and harmony within music, though it can never be this safe and risk-free place. It is not only huge female artists who are going to exposed to misogyny and violent threats. From live gigs to behind closed doors, what can be done?! No woman I follow who is in music can say they have lived their lives free from sexism and misogyny. There does seem to be this fuel on the fire at the moment. An acceleration of radicalisation and random violence. It is going to be hard to stop the epidemic penetrating the music industry though, right now, there does need to be this attention and focus on women. Not only hearing the words and stories but supporting them and ensuring they have allyship. Making sure they are safe as possible. Violence against women is a national emergency. Not to say music can help to change that but, as it is influential and this powerful platform, there is also a need for campaigns and conversations to happen. It is a terrifying world to be in right now. Unleashed and almost uncontrollable violence and brutality. So much of that violence and threat is being aimed specifically at women and girls. My mind turns to music and not only women in the industry now but those coming through. The as-yet-unfulfilled misogyny that girls now will face when they are older and entering music. So many women are raising awareness and highlighting statistics and facts about the danger than faces them. More needs to be done. Men need to do more and speak up. It is clear that conversations need to happen around…

PHOTO CREDIT: MART PRODUCTION/Pexels

WHAT can we all do.

FEATURE: Memories: Mary J. Blige’s Mary at Twenty-Five

FEATURE:

 

 

Memories

Mary J. Blige’s Mary at Twenty-Five

_________

1999 is a year…

 IN THIS PHOTO: Mary J. Blige in 1999/PHOTO CREDIT: Time + Life/Getty Images

that saw its fair share of monumental and brilliant albums. Artists really ending the decade (century and millennium) with a real bang. It was such an exciting year for music. Nobody knew what lay ahead in the twenty-first century. 1999 saw Pop changing and evolving. Dance and other genres changing and becoming more influential. So many timeless albums released that year. Maybe one that some overlook but should be considered as worthy as the best of 1999 is Mary J. Blige’s Mary. The fourth studio album from the Queen of Hip-Hop Soul, it turns twenty-five on 17th August. I am going to bring in a few reviews for a tremendous album from a true legend. For those who have not heard the album, I would recommend you check it out. This was a hot run for Blige. 1997’s Share My World and 2001’s No More Drama are incredible and acclaimed albums. If not all critics celebrated this work like they should, fans definitely did. Mary reached number two in the U.S. and five in the U.K. Featuring duets with, among others, Aretha Franklin and George Michael, such rich musicianship throughout, and incredible sampling and interpolations, Mary is an album that was definitely up there with the best of 1999. There was a bit of dynamic and emotional shift from her previous work. Perhaps stepping away from the more raunchy and edgy Hip-hip and R&B, there was this move towards something more sensual, mature and polished. Reminiscent of 1970s Soul music, it was a bit of a shock to some fans and critics. Mary J. Blige, as a dynamic and inventive artist, did not want to stay still and repeat herself.

I want to move on to some reviews of the wonderful Mary. Beginning with one from Rolling Stone. They wrote about the album in September 1999. If some preferred the artist who was breaking boundaries and changing the game at the start of her career, those who could appreciate why Mary J. Blige was moving into new territory definitely got a lot from Mary. It is definitely one of my favourite albums of 1999. It still sounds remarkable twenty-five years after its release:

“AT FIRST IT seems a bit strange: There’s only one MC on Mary J. Blige‘s new album, Mary. On her first and third studio albums — the genre-creating What’s the 411? and the merely stellar Share My World — she tapped a host of rhymers: Busta Rhymes, Grand Puba, Lil’ Kim, Nas. On her second album, the emotional autobiography My Life, there was a Keith Murray cameo and a slew of Puffy-produced interpolations. This latest record is her most superstar-packed — she welcomes aboard Lauryn Hill (producing and singing backup, not rhyming), Sir Elton John, Aretha Franklin, Babyface, Eric Clapton and ex-boyfriend K-Ci Hailey of K-Ci and JoJo — but with the late excision of the stunning “Sincerity,” featuring DMX and Nas, there’s a conspicuous void.

Blige seems to have moved away from the Terry McMillan once-again-he’s-breaking-my-heart mantra to, perhaps, an Oprah love-your-spirit ethos. She begins Mary with the lush Lauryn-produced “All That I Can Say,” singing, “Loving you is wonderful / Something like a miracle.” Two songs later, on “Beautiful Ones,” she sings, “With your love, maybe in my life / You know, we can stop the rain,” a direct answer to her classic theme song, “Everyday It Rains.” Of course, there are songs about sadness, like the brilliant strength-in-pain anthem “The Love I Never Had” — where she blares, “I gotta wake up!” while a Jimmy Jam-and-Terry Lewis-produced live band funks behind her — as well as the deep ballad “Your Child” and the spectacular “Memories.” But “Memories,” with its hot Timbaland-inspired track and junglish drum line, doesn’t match the sadness of which Mary speaks. The woman who concluded My Life singing, “All I really want is to be happy” seems to have found strength and happiness on the album’s closer, a remake of the classic disco invocation “Let No Man Put Asunder.” (You may remember the counterhook: “It’s not over between you and me.”)

Mary is moving away from the hip-hop-tinged, interpolation-heavy sound of her earlier albums into a sound that’s even more soulful, singing over a large live band or alongside Eric Clapton’s guitar or Elton John’s piano. But she remains the queen of hip-hop soul. Where most singers open their throats and make pretty sounds, MCs strive to represent the hopes and fears of their audience, to embody the collective I. Where singers make you love their records, MCs make you love them. So, though she never rhymes, Mary is an MC. On second thought, it’s perfect that the only MC on Mary’s record be Mary”.

There are a couple of other reviews I want to bring in. The BBC celebrated a greatly accomplished fourth studio album from a musical genius. Mary won its fair share of accolades and award nominations. In 2000, Mary J. Blige was nominated for Best International Female Solo Artist at the BRITs. Three GRAMMY nominations, include Best R&B Album. Songs like Deep Inside and All That I Can Say mark this album out as a classic. 1999 is one of the most diverse and exciting music years. Mary definitely adds to the richness and brilliance of the year:

“Mary is the widescreen fourth studio album from Mary J. Blige, which finds her edging further toward an adult-oriented market. Even its cover, a stark black and white image of her with African jewellery, underlines that Blige is leaving the street and going somewhere deeper, more substantial.

Overseen by Blige and Kirk Burrowes, the selection of producers and grooves unite here in a rare way. It is a post-modern composite, and it is, of course, unafraid to parade its bling.

Opening with the Lauryn Hill-produced All That I Can Say, Mary at once demonstrates that Blige, who had then been a star for best part of a decade, could still keep and rise above the company of the hottest current artists.

Sexy takes Michael Jackson’s I Can’t Help It and fashions a woozy, off-kilter vibe. Deep Inside features a re-recording of Elton John’s Bennie and the Jets, with John slamming away at his piano like he’s having the time of his life. It is absolutely infectious, and one of the standouts of Blige’s career.

Rich Harrison - who would go on to produce Beyoncé’s Crazy in Love - is responsible here for Beautiful Ones, which takes a sample of guitarist Earl Klugh’s version of Bacharach and David’s April Fools and supports an incredibly passionate delivery from Blige. Don’t Waste Your Time, a duet with Aretha Franklin, is a beautiful meeting of minds.

One of Aretha’s old duet partners, George Michael, turns up on the spirited cover of Stevie Wonder’s As, which appeared on European editions of the album. It is tribute running riot, with Michael attempting to dazzle in Blige’s company. However, the moment she opens her mouth, he is vanquished. The song gave Blige her then-highest UK chart placing (4), and paved the way for the album to break into the UK top 5.

A huge star for two decades, Mary J. Blige may not have had the ostentatious career climaxes of other artists, but she's created a steady, consistent and often astonishing catalogue. Mary is one of the most thrilling instalments of this career”.

Rather than another review, there are a couple of other features worth sourcing. There is an interview from The Guardian with Mary J. Blige that is fascinating reading. They spoke with her in 1999 about her upcoming fourth studio album:

“The anger management and showbiz etiquette classes seem to be working. An aide asks Mary J Blige to change hotel rooms for the interview, another asks her to change clothes for the photos. No crockery flies. No one dies. Blige acquiesces with a shrug.

Before her ascension with 1991's What's the 411, R&B was still a world of fluttering divas in evening wear. Blige presented new iconography: a hard-headed hip-hop girl who exulted in the tough, working-class culture she grew up with. Despite worldwide appetite for this brash ghetto style, the reality for Blige has been traumatic. Several times it has threatened to derail her career - hence the temper control and etiquette tutor (who has now been sacked).

Her antagonism and surliness are easily traceable to insecurity and low self-esteem. She was brought up by her teenage single mother, Cora, dropped out of school at 15 and seemed set for a life of drug and alcohol problems (both admitted) with occasional hairdressing and babysitting thrown in.

She recorded Anita Baker's Caught Up In The Rapture in a mall for fun and the tape reached Sean "Puffy" Combs. Combs was then the 21-year-old head of A&R at the booming and innovative Uptown records, helping shape new street-edged R&B. He and boss Andre Harrell travelled to Blige's flat, auditioned her and signed her.

Even with success Blige seemed to bear the imprint of the depressive. She walked out of interviews or didn't turn up. She walked off stage on her first British dates and suffered a savage backlash. By the time My Life arrived, Blige says she was suicidal. She split from the ambitious Combs and was on the point of bankruptcy after what she describes as management embezzlement and a bad contract.

Most harrowing of all was her love affair with K-ci Hailey, singer with the now defunct soul group Jodeci. From the outside the pair were the dream couple of the new 90s street soul. But Blige was suffering from what she describes as physical and mental abuse. The mental abuse was made public in 1990. Interviewed on The Word, Blige confirmed the two were engaged to be married. The show then cut to Hailey who denied that the pair were even going out. When I interviewed Uptown boss Andre Harrell in 1994 he confirmed their wedding would take place that summer. When I met Hailey later that year, he said talking about relationships - let alone weddings - would upset his female fans. The relationship ended several years ago.

Today, sitting in a highrise Manhattan hotel suite crammed with lunch, laptops, entourage and family, Blige still bristles with her usual distrust of strangers and media fuss, but she appears the most balanced and business-like I've seen her; happier and stronger.

The new album, Mary, contains some inspiring upbeat love grooves. Never theless it's her rasping bluesy voice on the pleading heartbreak of Don't Waste Your Time (a duet with Aretha Franklin), the Elton John-assisted Deep Inside, and the chilling Your Child which really stop you in your tracks. The nightmare she refers to may be long over, but her new music suggests that the catharsis is ongoing.

K-ci Hailey and his group Jodeci were another spectacular 90s success. The group had driven from a small town in Virginia to Uptown records, sung for Andre Harrell in reception and been signed. In a drastic image change they too came to symbolize the swaggering urban cool that Blige represented. Blige and Hailey could have enjoyed the rush of young fame together, but they didn't. In a spooky echo of the Ike and Tina Turner story, Blige blames K-ci Hailey for continued abuse resulting from his fear of her success. Since their split, a time during which she says she feared for her life, Blige has got her act back together.

"He had to be out," she says. "That was something that was holding me back. He didn't want me to have nothing. He didn't want me to sing when I was already a singer. He held me back from shows when I had to get on planes. When I say mental and physical abuse, everyone knows it was him. He'd use Jodeci interviews to say horrible things about me."

The most extraordinary thing about these revelations is K-ci Hailey's appearance on her new album. The duet Not Looking is, all the more amazingly, about a woman rejecting the advances of a cocky, gangster-type suitor and demanding a more mature and sensible partner. "I did the record with him but we weren't in the same studio," she explains. "I was in New York and he was in LA and we didn't see each other. My managers thought it was a good business move. I was totally against it. But then I tried Joe (another R&B star) on the song, I tried Eric from Blackstreet on the song; no one could pull it off. Then I spoke to K-ci and said 'Would you do the song?' and he said 'Yeah, no problem'. It was just business." Blige tells Hailey on the song "I'm not lookin' for no arrogant egotistical playa shit!" He wails that his love is real and apologises for past behaviour. The song ends with Blige's sarcastic rejoinder: "I know you're sorry".

But Blige has found new friends and musical collaborators through the experience. Lauryn Hill stepped in to lend support and wrote two songs on the album including the new single All That I Can Say. Hill also drew on the pain of bad love for much of last year's Grammy-winning album. Her duet with Blige, I Used to Love Him, takes on new poignancy in the light of these revelations.

Blige now shares her four-bedroom house in New Jersey with sister La Tonya and the latter's husband and children. The surrogate family has given her support, and there's a real feeling of breezy carefree love on I'm in Love and All That I Can Say.

"I'm in Love is about being in love with life. When you feel hope, you feel free and you start loving life. You start feeling that something good is coming - some man maybe. And I say that 'cos I can't help it. I'm into men! Maybe God is shaping him and moulding him right now or maybe he's right in my face every day and I haven't noticed yet. I've got to get used to not having someone around now but it's hard. It's hard in the middle of the night or maybe on the road in Europe. I get depressed. But I'd rather be alone than hold on to something which is artificial."

More recently Blige has entered pop territory uncharted by a credible street artist. Elton John is a friend and plays the Benny and The Jets piano riff borrowed for Deep Inside. She met George Michael the day before his solo performance in a Beverly Hills toilet and ended up recording As, the number one duet, with him.

"We like Sir Elton because he was real from the beginning. I met him at Madison Square Garden and we had something in common because there is a certain person from the fashion industry, a stupid model, that we don't like. Elton said: 'I like you because you don't like her either!' And I was like: 'Someone's with me on this!'

"Then I left the concert and the next day it said on the news he dedicated Benny and The Jets to me. I couldn't believe it. We called and asked him to play on the album. He came to the studio with a Versace bag and all the perfume out of the store. He made me feel real good. He was love. Sir Elton is real!

"I met George in LA with Babyface. I've always been a fan; he's always been in our lives. I grew up watching Wham! and George Michael on MTV. And when he met me, he was like: 'I love you! You're the greatest!' Just to be recognised by him was amazing. So the next day, when the scandal blew up, I was like: 'Oh shit!' But that never stopped me from loving him. But God tests you in so many ways as to what you're supposed to do and I knew I was supposed to love that man no matter what.

With that, she's off to rehearse a show with Eric Clapton at Madison Square Garden. Four days later she calls me, anxious to edit the more heinous accusations against her former lover. "That's the past. I don't want it hanging round my neck forever," she says. "I forgive and move on”.

I am going to end with this feature. Writing about Mary last August, they noted how Blige was following her 1970s muse and stepping into Neo-Soul. It was a refreshing and necessary move that brought new layers and elements to her work. Allowed her voice to go to new places. Explore different musical territory and work with some great new collaborators:

“Throughout her career, Mary J. Blige has received many titles to describe her unique brand of soul. On her fourth studio album, Mary, the “queen of hip-hop soul” stripped away her usual contemporary sounds, opting for a classic R&B approach. No longer masking her ornate bravado with hip-hop samples and Uptown vocals, Blige took a plunge into the newly established world of neo-soul, harkening back to essential 70s-styled R&B. The album’s third track, “Deep Inside,” provided its sentimental thesis: Blige wished her listeners “could see that I’m just plain ol’ Mary.”

A new chapter

Released on August 17, 1999, Mary signaled a new chapter not only in the singer’s life, but in her musical evolution. In the three studio albums leading up to the album, Blige earned her place in the industry by fusing uptempo hip-hop swagger with rough-hewn vocals that unearthed the pain and passion of black womanhood – whether that was searching for ‘Real Love’ on her New Jack Swing-tinged What’s The 411?, or declaring “I Can Love You”(better than she can) over the mafioso beat of Lil’ Kim’s “Queen Bi__h,” on Share My World. In the 90s, Mary J. Blige became an iconic voice and representation of Generation X street culture, style, slang, and popular music.

At the end of the decade, both R&B and hip-hop experienced a renaissance, as the genres rapidly merged towards a new alternative. By 1999, neo-soul had pushed its way to the forefront of mainstream R&B thanks to the likes of Erykah Badu, D’Angelo and Maxwell. Blige had previously collaborated with another neo-soul pioneer, Lauryn Hill, on “I Used To Love Him,” from the latter’s The Miseducation Of Lauryn Hill, and on Mary, Hill returned the favor, writing the album’s soulful opener and singing background vocals on “All That I Can Say.”

A blissful state

The first half of Mary documents a blissful state of being in love, with neo-soul acting as the engine that powers through that euphoria. As the follow-up to “All That I Can Say,” “Sexy” rekindles Blige’s hip-hop soul instincts with a sophisticated lounge groove meant for mixers, while fellow Yonkers native Jadakiss jumps on the track with a verse.

‘Deep Inside’ finds the singer at her most vulnerable and introspective over Elton John’s 1973 classic “Bennie And The Jets,” lamenting the obstacles that her fame creates for her relationships. Hardly a sample or interpolation, when you’re Mary J. Blige, you just get Sir Elton himself to come and play piano on the track for you. Perhaps even more surprising than that, however, is “Beautiful Ones,” which begins with the winding guitar strings of Earl Klugh’s 1976 instrumental “The April Fools” and loops repeatedly over the lush melody as Blige opines about her lover’s qualities.

An old soul

Since her start, Blige always had a knack for drawing on the healing remedies of old-school R&B, most notably on her cover of Rufus And Chaka Khan’s “Sweet Thing” and her use of a jazzy Roy Ayers sample of “Everybody Loves The Sunshine” on “My Life.” This thematic evolution continues on Mary, with its more mature lyrics and the expansive resonance in her singing voice. Blige draws upon 70s R&B and soul for the album, in particular her favorite songs she grew up with.

The first act of Mary concludes with a cover of the 1979 Gap Band classic “I’m In Love.” The song highlights a sunshine motif that recurs throughout the first half of the album, as Blige hits her highest octave on the line “The sun will shine for me and you”.

A painful return

Following “I’m In Love,” Mary takes a turn as Blige once again taps into a darker pain that drives so much of her music. Dubbed a “a virtuoso of suffering” by The New York Times, Blige has also derived art from her most scarring experiences. Rather than dress up that sorrow with theatrics and her usual flashiness, however, on Mary, Blige lets things sink in, keeping the arrangement simple, which allows her to be more vulnerable.

On the consciousness-raising “Time,” Blige takes aim at the world and her armchair critics while referencing two classic songs, first sampling Stevie Wonder’s “Pastime Paradise,” from the Motown icon’s 1976 opus, Songs In The Key Of Life, and flipping the script on The Rolling Stones as she laments, “Time is not on our side.”

A turbulent relationship

Blige’s on-again-off-again relationship with fellow R&B crooner “K-Ci” Hailey, of K-Ci And JoJo, has been a core subject throughout her work. Plagued with infidelity, jealousy, domestic violence and drug abuse, the turmoil from their toxic love has brought the singer some of her most memorable deep cuts, including “Memories,” on which she declares, “Valentine’s Day will never be the same.”

Aretha Franklin weighs in and advises her soulful progeny on “Don’t Waste Your Time,” before K-Ci himself appears on “Not Lookin,’” confessing, through back and forth banter, that he doesn’t want to fall in love with Blige, regardless of his true feelings. The pain continues on Mary’s stand-out ballad, “Your Child,” which sees Blige confronting her disloyal partner and the woman he impregnates.

By the time you get to “No Happy Holiday,” Blige realizes she’s still in love, despite the heartbreak, and in true diva fashion, she advises herself to “wake up” in order to not lose “The Love I Never Had,” singing over the funk blare of the Jimmy Jam- and Terry Lewis-produced live band.

All-star guests

Swapping out guest MCs for rock’n’roll legends on Mary, Blige recruited Eric Clapton for the slow-burning “Give Me You,” an organ-heavy olive branch of forgiveness. Slowhand saves the fancier fretwork for later, quietly supporting Blige until he fully unleashes his guitar mid-way through the song. Blige then closes out the album with a disco-influenced cover of First Choice’s 1977 single, “Let No Man Put Asunder.”

By the end of Mary’s 72-minute run, the queen of hip-hop soul has proved that she is, in fact, the queen of R&B. The album not only showcases her ability to weave various motifs throughout her music, but also her skill at tackling different branches of the genre: past, present, and future. Most importantly, it achieved what R&B music is all about: using rhythm’n’blues to express your own story of love, hurt, and redemption, and having the audience feel every note”.

On 17th August, the stunning Mary turns twenty-five. Seven years after her peerless debut album, What's the 411?, Mary J. Blige was still at the top of her game. Ending the century with a remarkable statement and ambitious album, you can hear its influence in artists today. Mary is ample proof that its creator is…

ONE of the all-time greats.

FEATURE: No Name, New Game: Could Jack White’s Oldskool and Low-Key Album Release Inspire Others?

FEATURE:

 

 

No Name, New Game

IN THIS PHOTO: Jack White/PHOTO CREDIT: David James Swanson

Could Jack White’s Oldskool and Low-Key Album Release Inspire Others?

_________

IN modern music…

IN THIS PHOTO: Jack White performing at Glastonbury 2022/PHOTO CREDIT: David Levene/The Guardian

there are so many stages to consider when it comes to album promotion. All social media channels need to be considered. There are weeks and sometimes months of teasers, videos, posts, photos and various other aspects. All very much timed and planned to create the biggest impact. Major artists are the ones where you get the most intense and widespread promotional blitz. It can be quite exhausting. I know that this is how things are done. To ensure the biggest sales and impressions, there needs to be this consideration about reach. Smaller artists still need to promote their albums as much as they can. They do not have the luxury of the massive fanbase and the same influence. One of the most interesting concepts in music is the surprise album drop. Various artists have done this. Beyoncé among them. Again, maybe less high-profile artists cannot afford to do this. It would be risky. This takes me to Jack White. A legendary artist who enjoyed years of success with The White Stripes, The Raconteurs, and The Dead Weather, he is also a prolific solo artist. In  the past, he has had to do the same sort of promotional trail as artists of his calibre. Interviews galore and all the necessary social media posts and mandatories. With his surprise release, No Name, that has not happened. Here are more details:

“Jack White surprise-dropped a new album on Friday, but you can’t stream it on the usual services. ‘No Name’ was released as a vinyl LP, but the only way (so far) fans can get it is by visiting one of the record stores belonging to his Third Man Records business and buying something else. On Friday, staff were slipping the blank-cover LP into people’s bags alongside other purchases.

It appears to have been a one-day-only release, although Consequence reported that Third Man’s official Instagram profile published a story that night encouraging fans to ‘Rip It’. The Jack White subreddit has duly done so and made the album available as downloads from a Google Drive (see ‘rule 3’ on its frontpage) with a mod promising that “if anyone at Third Man Records hates rule 3, please let me know, I’ll delete it”.

Rather than it being released in all record stores and on streaming sites, it was a very low-key thing. More hype and interest around the album that a mere follow-up. No Name – or whatever he would have called it – would have just been subjected to this sense of predictability and expectations. The media and fan reaction would have been less intense than copies being handed out at Third Man stores. Variety go into more detail in their No Name review:

“No Name” the kind of album many fans hoped White would make after his electrifying appearance on “Saturday Night Live” in October of 2020 — as a last-minute for that covid-protocol-busting scamp Morgan Wallen — when he, Jones and Davis blasted the cobwebs out of our rock-starved psyches. The spontaneity of that performance suggested that, like Dave Grohl playing drums or Michael Jordan playing basketball, White could just pick up where he left off any time he wanted, even though he’d already been at the top of that game and moved on.

Nearly four years later, here it is, arriving in the most Jack White way possible: as an unmarked collectors’ item, given away for free with every purchase at White’s Third Man Record stores, without any notice or explanation; store employees apparently weren’t even allowed to talk about it. (Those with long memories may recall that White, possibly the world’s greatest vinyl proponent, sent out advance copies of the White Stripes’ epochal “Elephant” album to the media in 2003 only on vinyl, prompting predictable howls of outrage from critics who, in those pre-revival days, had long since ditched their turntables.)

The motivation, if it weren’t already obvious, was explained at the end of the day on Friday when Third Man posted a photo of the album on Instagram and wrote: “Today you have proven that the quiet rumblings of something mysterious can grow into the beautiful experience of a community sharing the excitement and energy of music & art.”

There have been a lot of surprise-drops since Beyonce set the standard in 2013, and White has served up plenty of innovative and challenging music over the past dozen years — including some smoking rock and roll, particularly on his “Blunderbuss” and “Fear of the Dawn” albums. But “No Name,” as an album and an event, actually lives up to those words”.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Stereogum (@stereogum)

No Name has collected some huge reviews. Uncut awarded it four-and-a-half stars; The Guardian were impressed by Jack White’s most White Stripes-sounding solo release yet. This idea that fans and record buyers were handed out this almost anonymous and plain album that came out of nowhere. White keen for fans to bootleg and share the album free. Do what they want for it. At a time when physical music is very much rising and demanded, there is an interesting argument here. It encourages people to rip the album and share it, though there is also this questions as to whether White’s new album will lead more people to share it online and not share physical copies. I will come to that. I want to highlight this review of No Name from CLASH:

“The music business needs a superhero, and a vigilante label boss may just be the person for it.

The rapid devaluation of artistry prompted by the weightlessness of streaming over the past decade has been a threat to Jack White’s obsession with all things analogue. To combat the looming stagnation of the flat-surfaced digital era, he has cultivated an inimitable marque by playing with color codes, texture, arrangement and technology in a series of attempts at preserving traditions that bring people closer together.

Halfway through 2024, the Willy Wonka of music has resurfaced with what is arguably his most rousing solo effort to date. Always firm in his drive to keep audiences focused on creativity rather than celebrity, the 12-time Grammy winner has substituted (perhaps temporarily?) his blue aesthetic and the lithe tingle of static outlining it with a fresh bundle of faceless songs.

In late July, people shopping at his Third Man Records stores in Detroit, Nashville and London were unsuspectingly slid copies of what turned out to be White’s sixth solo album. The unannounced package has no name, track titles, credits or cover art, whereas its vinyl-exclusive rollout lasted all of one day. Soon after the news of the mystery disk began making the rounds, the imprint responsible for it began encouraging those in possession of the item to rip and distribute it. Furthermore, said company uploaded the components of the LP to Google Drive for a free download.

Backed by the infallible guitar–drum–bass framework now synonymous with his brand, the Motor City native has used his weapon of choice—distortion as calmingly shrill as his voice—to remind listeners that things needn’t be a certain way just because that’s how they already are.

By surrounding himself with artisans proficient in equipment rather than genre and masterfully presenting ostensibly passé products for modern audiences, he has made guitar music work during a time where the kids rarely ask for it. Not only that, but White’s untitled record also manages to satisfy every need he has positioned his day-one fans to rely on him for since he started out three decades ago.

With his trademark pliability anchored deep beneath the surface, he is able to swerve from garage blues (“A_01,” tentatively) to glimpses of the Raconteurs (“A_03”) to electric folk (“B_02”) with a coherence few can replicate. Adding to the execution of his abrasive and unambiguous punk joint “A_06,” the 49-year-old multidisciplinary keeps his middle finger raised up high as he raps about “tear[ing] down the institution” with the charisma of a street vendor on “A_05.”

The music did, does and always will come first.

Besides finding new ways to make shredding transcend its otherwise insufferable reputation, he has now joined the likes of Radiohead and Trent Reznor in demonstrating to the music circuit—especially those with the finances to set new standards and lead by example —that trade and commodification isn’t necessary for art to flourish.

A mad scientist who is incapable of being boring, Jack White has been rallying the troops and sticking it to the man for years. His latest album, it is safe to say, might just be his campaign’s biggest win thus far.

8/10”.

It is great that Jack White had the freedom to release an album this way and did not have to endure the same promotional rigours others face. If No Name was a planned and traditional release, it would have been put on vinyl and C.D. Maybe cassette too. White could have said to fans they can burn copies and share it around. It would have gone onto streaming and you feel most people would have listened to it that way. Fans listening to the album alone and not sharing it. There is something vintage and underground about this approach. The the value of an album is not determined by price or promotional expectations. Making a few copies of an album and then urging people to share in their own way. Burn copies or file-share online. There was a taboo aspect about that years ago. This idea of getting music for free. This real fear that fans were ripping off artists. I do wonder whether Jack White will return to the usual promotional and release method for future albums. Rather than this being a stunt, No Name was a reaction against the digitalisation of music and how albums are almost devalued. How there is this routine artists have to go through to get their album talked about. Over twenty-five years since he started performing with The White Stripes, Jack White is taking things back to that time. To basics. You could imagine White Stripes demos or records made on vinyl and handed to fans at gigs.

At a modern time, few artists take the same risk as White. I would like to think someone like Taylor Swift or Foo Fighters could release an album in the same way, yet you feel it would create too much backlash or commercial risk. There is always this need to hit sales targets and get social media impressions. Quite a capitalist approach, there is something socialist about giving albums out and then being known via word-of-mouth more than interviews, social media and sales. I would like to think No Name creates this momentum and wave. Other artists rebellion against modern expectations. There are artists right at the top of the industry and those coming through that might have different risks. The very biggest may feel there is too much to lose. Labels tying them into these promotional campaigns. Chart positions and sales very much at the forefront. Artists coming through or fairly new also have to think about traction and competition. Needing to make a name for themselves. People might say it is a stunt following Jack White’s lead. I think it is those in the middle that have less to risk and more likely to make the same move. I do hope that No Name is the start of change. Rather than the album being this digital commodity or mass produced, limiting copies but then encouraging fans to rip/copy the album and share it. Finding it online in an older format and not on big streaming platforms. Creating this build-up and buzz from this somewhat underground and unexpected surprise release. I do love that thought that more and more artists will do this. Very few ever have. Let’s hope that No Name compels artists right through the industry to…

MAKE a name for themselves.

FEATURE: The Bigger Sky: Why We Need a Coming Together to Celebrate Kate Bush

FEATURE:

 

 

The Bigger Sky

IN THIS PHOTO: Kate Bush in 1985/PHOTO CREDIT: John Carder Bush

Why We Need a Coming Together to Celebrate Kate Bush

_________

I have spoken about…

PHOTO CREDIT: Trinity Mirror/Mirrorpix/Alamy

the desire to do something bigger and ambitious regarding Kate Bush. I do a load of features and will be for decades to come. I have always wanted to go beyond that and create something that is a more large-scale. I love writing about Kate Bush, yet I feel there is something more I can do. In terms of what that could be, I have always been drawn to a documentary. It seems like the world really does need one. Not only would it be the first we have had in a decade – the BBC’s 2014 documentary being the most recent televised one -, but it would also bring her music to new people. Get artists and those across the worlds of literature, theatre and beyond together to discuss what Kate Bush means to them. Consider all the new attention on her since 2022, I feel that it would be a perfect opportunity. I think that the reality is that Kate Bush would refuse. I was talking with Matt Everitt and he said, when I brought up the idea of doing a Kate Bush documentary, how difficult it is. She would say ‘no’ to anything that comes her way. Apparently there have been attempts to get documentaries made. It has always been met with refusal. That seems a shame. I guess any documentary idea would need to go through her, as it is her music and career we are exploring. I am not sure why Kate Bush is against documentaries. Perhaps she doesn’t want to see herself on the small screen. Maybe not really interested in giving her permission for something like that. I still maintain we need a documentary of some sort. It is hard to even pitch an audio documentary or some bigger project on the radio. I have submitted ideas for BBC Radio 4 pitching rounds. I mention Kate Bush and doing a documentary and the response is a little wary. That there needs to be this twist or unique selling point. An angle that is more obscure or niche than simply talking about her music or focusing on particular albums.

I think that there is this general belief that there is little appetite for Kate Bush. If documentaries have been made before, then why do we need any new ones. I don’t think there has to be a twist or anything too narrow. If you think about how Kate Bush’s music is reaching a broader audience and there very much is this need to ensure that she reached younger generations and stays in their mind, surely something that is both unique and wide-ranging would be the best approach? You would want them to tune into a radio documentary that is accessible and detailed. I often struggle to get feedback from production companies what stations might look for. So many look for Kate Bush to be involved. That seems to be the lure and incentive. If she is not then they lose interest. Kate Bush would not need to give permission for a radio documentary or project. It would be a courtesy to ask, though it would not be as tricky as mounting a documentary on T.V. Writing to Bush about an idea that she might be interested in would be tantalising. I guess pitching a documentary right now might lead to silence or rejection. It may be the case that a few years need to pass before she is more open to the suggestion. I will end with an idea that I recently pitched that I think would be hard to reject. It would also bring fans together and celebrate a masterpiece album on a big anniversary. I am glad that there are books about Kate Bush and magazine articles. In terms of provoking discussion and going deeper. Regular salutes to Kate Bush. There is not much out there that does this.

That is why I write articles. It is a way of talking about her regularly and having control to write what I want when. Magazines and music websites would not really commission Kate Bush features unless there was a reason. A new album or anniversary coming. As such, you don’t really see too many cropping up. The odd thing here and there. I have been tempted to write a book about her in the past but I am not that good a writer. I do not have the discipline to write a book. My language and vocabulary is quite basic, so I am not sure whether I could engage people. It is a huge undertaking too and would require a lot of time. I don’t have the time or luxury to take time off work to do that. Maybe something for the very distant future. Many ask when I will do a podcast. Again, this is something I mentioned to Matt Everitt and he was very encouraging. Everitt, in case you don’t know, is a broadcaster with BBC Radio 6 Music and is a former musician. A great drummer and top bloke, he interviewed Kate Bush in 2016 in promotion of the Before the Dawn live album. In theory, a podcast would be great. I could provide regular episodes and talk to a range of people. There are some drawbacks I am not sure how to overcome in the short-term. I have vocal issues where I regularly get sore throats and hoarseness. Extended conversation is quite hard and would take a lot out of me. Also, living in a crowded flat that is rarely quiet and there is a lot of distraction and stress. Not a space I am comfortable or happy in, you would hear that on a podcast. A studio would be ideal but that would be expensive. Moving to any new flat would be a bit challenging in regards to creating an environment that is quiet and conducive to creativity and conversation. Also, I do not have the technical knowledge to produce a podcast or make it sound professional. I would still really love to do it.

I am not sure how to splice in clips of Kate Bush’s music and feel that it would be a challenge doing something that on my own. Hiring a podcast company would also cost quite a bit. I am also keen to meet people and record a podcast face to face. I would not be able to realistically do that in a flat or in a shared house. It would need a space that was large and quiet enough so that there would not be interruptions and issues. I feel, unless I can make big life changes, learn how to produce a podcast and really overcome health and voice issues, that it might be out of reach for a while. Juggling this with work and trying to find the time is also a consideration. Even so, there are precious few Kate Bush podcasts. Apart from the excellent Kate Bush Fan Podcast and a few smaller ones, there is nothing out there. Those podcasts do not really do weekly episodes. It is something that I want to do but cannot really reconcile the issues that I face right now. But, yes, it is an ambition. It would not necessarily be too expensive. I am keen to interview authors like Graeme Thomson (Under the Ivy: The Life and Music of Kate Bush), Leah Kardos (whose 33/13 book for Hounds of Love is out in November) and some well-known fans of Kate Bush. In addition to those essential in the community, so they can chat about their favourite songs, albums and moments. With Before the Dawn’s tenth anniversary coming later this month, it would be a great opportunity to launch it. Alas, I feel there are stumbling blocks that will take some time to get over – in spite of this desire inside of me to get something made.

 IN THIS PHOTO: Kate Bush performing Running Up That Hill (A Deal with God) in 1985/PHOTO CREDIT: United Archives/Alamy

Even though it would take some crowd-funding, I maintain that an event next year might solve issues around documentaries and a podcast. I have written about this before. I have a desire to get people together. We have Kate Bush events. These are usually smaller ones. Club nights, tribute acts, cabaret nights and the odd convention. Nothing really on a larger scale. Perhaps logistics and finances limit what people can do. If a documentary requires more sign-off and involvement from Kate Bush in terms of clearing the music, maybe not so with an event. Perhaps the barrier with a documentary is her not really wanting to be on the screen. She might feel uncomfortable with the idea of people discussing her and parts of her career she is not happy with. I am not sure. There is that expense. It is also time-consuming. It can potentially take years to pull it all together. Something that would be an event that is also like a live podcast, next year sees Hounds of Love turning forty. If there was a one-off event held at a theatre, venue or significant site relating to Kate Bush and her music, that would not take as long to plan and realise. She could not object to this. Also, an album that she is happy to reissue and repackage. When I pitched this idea recently, some suggested small venues. I am not keen on the smaller scale. Going to a low-capacity venue or somewhere that is less expensive. The idea is to take this somewhere bigger so that we can get a lot of fans in plus guests and artists. I know that this would cost more money. I am ambitious and do not really want to do what others are. As great as those events are, this one has to be huge and think a lot grander and more professional. In terms of the guestlist and the production values. It requires a space equipped and set up for that.

A one-off Hounds of Love event would be quite involved and expensive, yet the commitment is for single evening – a two or three-hour event. It would take away any pressure of recording something at home or spending months and years pitching a documentary. As events regarding Kate Bush happen fairly regularly, there are no real barriers here in terms of permission and intellectual property. A courtesy call or letter to her agent and, I guess, figuring out how feasible it is to get permission to use music and clips for a relatively affordable fee. That may be a stumbling block. I have been to live podcasts at venues and music is rarely played. The clearance fee to use entire tracks. On podcasts, you can use snatches and snippets and not necessarily have to part with money. That might be different for a bigger live event. I am in the process of speaking with venues and discoing with people the ins and outs who have done something similar for other artists/albums. In time, I want to do a regular podcast and, hopefully, have the leading Kate Bush podcast on the market. I want to make it a success and have it sound professional. Where I am at the moment, I am not sure how realistic that is.

A longer shot would be a documentary or a book. Of course, I would like to be invited to the table one of these days when magazines do features and spreads about Kate Bush. I am not as big a name as some who contribute but, as I am the most prolific writer about Kate Bush in the world – in terms of the regularity of my features -, I hope that this buys me a spot one day! A book or some sort would be good though, as I say, I don’t think I have the discipline and skillset to be able to that. I am very much hopeful, if it is not ludicrously expensive, of doing an event next year. On 16th September. When Hounds of Love turns forty. It may be far-fetched when you think about money and location but, if there was an opportunity to crowd-fund, then it could happen. It is that thing of physically bringing people together, rather than digitally. Podcasts and features are wonderful, though you never really feel part of it. Like you are there. If you could literally be there, or at least watch a livestream, that would be awesome! It would sort of mix a documentary and a podcast. An evening all about her most acclaimed album. If it could happen, then the possibilities would be fantastic. It might be a bit of a dream but, the more we share our love for Kate Bush, the more I want to get people together! Looking ahead, this one-time thing is tantalising. Just pulling it together. I may have to add sums and think about all the challenges and hurdles. If it is insurmountable then it will have to wait. However, if it is a case of raising necessary funding, this is something I will the pitch with the wider community. The Fish People. Saluting a genius album on stage with some special guests and a couple of hundred fans. It would be something to look forward to…

NEXT year.

FEATURE: 2 More Days of Peace and Music: Marking Thirty Years of Woodstock 94

FEATURE:

 

 

2 More Days of Peace and Music

Marking Thirty Years of Woodstock 94

_________

BETWEEN 12th and 14th August…

PHOTO CREDIT: Getty Images/John Atashian

Woodstock 94 took place. I am going to end with a playlist of songs from artist who played the festival. Marking twenty-five years of the original Woodstock, the 1994 celebration took place amid a flurry of nostalgia and mud. There was a mix of some established artist and relative newcomers on the scene. Billed a ‘2 More Days of Peace and Music’, it is a festival whose thirtieth anniversary should be talked about. As is almost inevitable, a festival that could have done with constant good weather suffered somewhat. Things started hot and dry. By Saturday afternoon, festival-goers were subjected to storms, whereabout the fields became thick with mud. Held at Winston Farm, New York-around a hundred miles (160 km) north of New York City, over 350,000 people attended. 164,000 tickets were sold, so there was a lot of fence-hopping and people sneaking in. Because of the increased crowds and unexpected weight, and the fact that security could not cope, there was no difficulty for many attendees to enter with beer and other banned items. For a festival that was about peace and harmony, there saws a real threat to that. The quality of the music and the importance of the festival was undermined by the lack of respect from those who climbed the fences. You can learn about Woodstock 94 and those who played here. I am going to come to a few features. Before a couple of features from 1994, this from Louder Sound took us inside a clash of cultures. In a mad year for Metal, this music and spirit was brought to the surface at a huge festival:

“Mud was even more omnipresent for Woodstock ’94 than it had been in 1969. At the back of the fairgrounds, fans danced in dirty-brown, knee-deep puddles. In the moshpits, they slid into one another as if they were fighting on ice skates.

And other bands, especially Green Day, turned a potential disaster into a free-for-all party. When the crowd started throwing clumps of dirt at them, they embraced the chaos, flinging it back and triggering a giddy, chaotic mud fight.

By the end, frontman Billie Joe Armstrong had dropped his pants and a security guard had accidentally clocked bassist Mike Dirnt in the mouth, knocking out some of his front teeth.

The show did for Green Day what the mud costumes did for NIN; footage of the show was repeatedly splashed across MTV and three months later Green Day’s second album, Dookie, hit No.4 on the charts.

If there was a theme song for the festival, it’d be Primus’s My Name is Mud. But rather than trash the venue – as some fans did at Woodstock ’99 – or get mad and leave, the majority of crowd members revelled in it.

Motivated by recreational pharmaceuticals, primal lust or a combination of both, they spent as much time frolicking in the mud at the back of the festival grounds as they did in the audience.

“There was shit going on back there that had nothing to do with what was going on by the stage,” recalls Blind Melon guitarist Rogers Stevens. “It was like Lord Of The Flies. You could vaguely hear music and there were giant mud puddles with naked people writhing around. Some of them were dancing, some were, uhh, doing other things.”

The line-up for Woodstock ’94 included alumni from Woodstock ’69 (Santana, Joe Cocker, Country Joe McDonald) and old-schoolers who didn’t play the original festival (Jimmy Cliff, Allman Brothers, Bob Dylan).

But most of the highlights were newer, heavier and more contemporary bands. In addition to Nine Inch Nails and Green Day, the event featured Metallica, Aerosmith, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Jackyl, Porno For Pyros, the Rollins Band, Candlebox, Collective Soul, King’s X and Primus.

Alice In Chains were originally booked but had to pull out since vocalist Layne Staley was in drug rehab. As a consolation, guitarist Jerry Cantrell took the stage at the end of Primus’s set to join a jam redolent of Led Zeppelin’s Dazed And Confused.

“What was going on [for the original Woodstock] was the best contemporary bands for 1969,” Metallica’s Lars Ulrich told MTV before the group’s monster set.

“Now, we have the best contemporary bands for 1994. Music has evolved and society has evolved. Anyone expecting this to be a reprise of what went on 25 years ago should have their head examined.”

In 1993, the Woodstock team rented out the 840-acre Winston Farm in Saugerties, New York. It was the location where Woodstock 1969 was scheduled to take place, before the owners got cold feet, forcing promoters to move it southwest to Max Yasgur’s Dairy Farm.

The line-up was announced on June 14, just two months before the concert. Some celebrated the news. Some didn’t. Purists argued that the new acts – especially the heavier ones – tainted the legacy of the original Woodstock.

Others complained that the $135 ticket price and corporate sponsorship (including abundant Woodstock merch and a pay-per-view simulcast) killed the organic, grass roots vibe of the 1969 event.

Communities around Saugerties worried that local highways and roads weren’t large enough to accommodate street traffic from 200,000 expected attendees.

“The mainstream press was negative from the start,” recalls John Scher, then president of Polygram Diversified Entertainment, which co-promoted the event with Woodstock Ventures. “For months they said, ‘There’s gonna be riots and crime.’ That didn’t seem to stop anybody from buying tickets, but it made our lives pretty hellish.”

Originally, promoters planned a two-day weekend festival across August 13-14, but added Friday to the schedule when they realised there was a surplus of groups that wanted to play, and that they could entertain campers who arrived early.

Jackyl were the first metal band to play on Friday. Vocalist Jesse James Dupree took the stage in an Uncle Sam hat and a mirror shard jacket that weighed 40 pounds. He started by pouring whisky over the crowd. Then someone tossed a joint onstage and he sparked up, unconcerned about the area’s strict drug laws.

“They were being a little heavy-handed about drugs and alcohol, but how can you have a Woodstock without people smoking a little dope?” he asks.

“We were having fun in the spirit of rock’n’roll and we woke everybody the fuck up because our adrenaline was spiking.”

Metallica burned through 15 songs in two hours, opening with their cover of Budgie’s Breadfan, then ensnaring the masses with a pyrotechnic barrage of hits, including Master Of Puppets, For Whom The Bell Tolls and Enter Sandman. During One, two minutes of machine-gun fire and flashpot bursts illustrated both the celebratory vibe of the event and the pre-millennial angst of the era.

After Metallica, Aerosmith took over for a post-midnight set, and the mood shifted from stark and explosive to fun-loving and oh-so sleazy.

A glance at the tracklist of the Woodstock ’94 live album is a reminder of how solid the event’s line-up and performances were for metal fans. NIN’s Happiness in Slavery won a 1995 Grammy award for Best Metal Performance and Metallica’s For Whom the Bell Tolls was also nominated.

In addition, tracks by the Rollins Band, Jackyl, Green Day, Red Hot Chili Peppers and Primus stood strong alongside classic rock numbers by Dylan, Peter Gabriel and Joe Cocker.

Like its predecessor, Woodstock ’94 was a celebration of cultural diversity and musical innovation. Significantly, it was also a snapshot of a moment when metal groups and loud alternative bands influenced by metal, punk and classic rock brought the spirited sounds of the counterculture into the mainstream. Two days of rain, mud and overcrowding couldn’t stop the (r)evolution”.

There are features that were written around the time of the festival. It must have been quite a strange and intoxicating environment. In a year when Grunge was dying or changing radically, there was this shift in terms of influence and tastes. I wonder whether a festival that harked back to the peace and love of the original Woodstock was doomed and ill-fated in 1994 – a time when that very much wasn’t the spirit. This feature from The New York Times talked about some minor discord among a festival that was largely harmonious:

“Saturday's late-night lineup had emphasized the anger and alienation of current rock. Nine Inch Nails snarled its bitterness, followed by Metallica's hard-riffing songs -- some grinding, some jet-propelled -- about death, dismemberment and other apocalyptic fears. Metallica was both streamlined and weighty, an efficient machine that generated sing-alongs and waving hands in the audience as far as the eye could see. A Song Without a War

Aerosmith, which followed, seemed supercharged by competition. Its songs are part blues-rock, part arena-rock, poised between the Rolling Stones and later heavy metal. In a set that stretched two hours, to about 3:30 A.M., Aerosmith's blues roots and cartoonish humor were amply displayed.

Today, much of the music was similarly kindly. The morning opened with Country Joe MacDonald reprising, from the 1969 festival, his "Fish" cheer and "Feel-Like-I'm-Fixing-to-Die Rag," which seemed marooned without the Vietnam War it protested. Shirley Caesar, Phoebe Snow, Thelma Houston, Cece Peniston and Lois Walden then sang classic gospel songs with fervent virtuosity. Arrested Development's songs were determinedly positive, urging unity, tolerance and respect for history, but on stage its bass riffs and catchy melody phrases overwhelm any didacticism.

The Neville Brothers, whose experience dates back through three decades of New Orleans rock, could have been Arrested Development's elder relatives, generating all their rhythms from live instruments and meshing in buoyant New Orleans and island-hopping rhythms. Santana, which appeared at the 1969 festival, brought its own galaxy of Latin rhythms and searing guitar solos, while Jimmy Cliff used reggae songs to urge one-world love.

Both baby boomers and younger fans of so-called "classic rock" savored brand names like Traffic and the Allman Brothers Band. Paul Rodgers, formerly the lead singer with Free and Bad Company, sang chest-heaving arena-rock versions of old and new songs; Slash, the guitarist from Guns 'n' Roses, sat in.

The Spin Doctors offered a tepid version of grooves learned from the Allmans and the Grateful Dead; not wasting time, they have already recorded a new version of Joni Mitchell's "Woodstock”.

I am going to end with another feature from The New York Times. An overview of a huge and populous festival from 1994, they highlighted how the music faded and there was the start of this muddy trek. Starting sunny and perhaps positive, there was something of a bitter edge that came in. The bad weather and some unrest. Even so, the importance and scale of Woodstock 94 cannot be overstated:

“Thousands of people, hauling rain-sodden bedding and wearing garbage-bag ponchos, found themselves forced to stand in a mile-long line for hours before they were able to board shuttle buses that took them to parking lots as far as 30 miles away. Many set out on foot. Some found their cars stuck in the mud at the parking lots and paid local residents as much as $100 to pull them out with tractors.

But through it all, the three-day concert rolled toward its finale with remarkable precision -- on two vast stages, four huge video screens and pay-per-view television. In the end, hundreds of thousands of people had gotten what they came for, a mega-concert by some 50 scheduled bands and numerous special guests, executed for the most part without a visible hitch.

At the concert's peak, officials estimated that 300,000 to 350,000 people were living in a space the size of Central Park and that medical personnel were treating a new patient every 20 seconds. There were countless bad reactions to drugs, broken bones and cases of exhaustion and dehydration.

Some among the over-stimulated, sleep-deprived diehard fans who remained here today said they were angry and disappointed by what the concert had become. But most appeared to accept and even embrace the conditions, as though they figured that their survival would one day become a badge of honor.

"I want to make it through," said Rich Campone, 33, a social worker from the Bronx, who said he was having fun "in a weird way" even though he was afraid to eat or drink anything for fear of then having to use one of the portable toilets. "Maybe if I could do this, I could do a lot of things."

Officials reported a second death since the festival began Friday. Lieut. Col. James O'Donnell of the New York State Police said Edward R. Chatfield, 20, of Grove City, Ohio, died on Saturday from a ruptured spleen, a pre-existent condition for which he had been taking antibiotics. Earlier, a Long Island man had died of complications of diabetes.

The police also said that two women heading home to the Chicago area were killed this morning in a car accident on the Gov. Thomas E. Dewey Thruway in Schuyler, N.Y. The driver of the car fell asleep, the police said.

Some 1,600 people had been treated in the festival's hospital, said John J. Clair of the State Department of Emergency Medical Services. Thousands more had been treated at 13 first aid tents. Dr. Ferdinand Anderson, the festival's medical director, said that during the peak period, "I would much rather have been in the Korean War or the Vietnam War in that time period."

During that time, late Saturday and early today, ambulances roared incessantly along the festival roadways, through the eerie glow of flood lights, moving patients, some in restraints, to hospitals on and off the site. Emergency medical technicians tore out of the first-aid tents and plunged into the crowd, hauling out the sick and injured, many of them covered in mud.

Yet Dr. Anderson and others said the casualties were no greater than expected, based on statistics from past events. Dr. Robert Strauss, a medical-command director, said, "It's a very peaceful crowd, remarkably peaceful." Nearby a young man with a black eye and fresh stitches in his forehead stood quivering. An 11-year-old girl, who Dr. Strauss described as "very drunk," had been treated. And Still They Came

Throughout the day, the line of departing people grew while a string of empty buses, stretching for miles, waited to pick up passengers. One driver, Dan Lail, said he waited nearly two hours to get one load. At one point, he leaned out and took a snapshot of the line of people: "I'm going to put it in the scrapbook," he said. "You know what I mean?"

At the same time, new arrivals continued to straggle into the festival on foot and in taxis, wandering out into the sprawling fields of mud and settling down near the two stages. Some had driven all night, abandoning their cars on lawns as far as 11 miles away because the state police had blocked roads into Saugerties.

People sprawled on blankets and cardboard atop the glistening mud, surrounded by brand-name trash bearing the logos of the festival's corporate sponsors like Pepsi and Haagen-Dazs. T-shirts were selling briskly. In some areas, the stench of treated human waste was in the air. "Good morning, Woodstock," an announcer called from the stage. "The sun is in our hearts."

"In this one little area, you experience everything," marveled Keith Mancini, 24, a 24-year-old waiter who had left his home in Warwick, R.I., at midnight and arrived here at dawn. "There's all this mud, there's all this discomfort and a gospel band at 10:30 on a Sunday morning. You don't even have to miss church here."

At a news briefing, the organizers seemed exhilarated by the concert, praising the people who came and how they had behaved. "If there is anything that comes out of this, it's a reaffirmation of the human spirit," said John Scher, the president of Polygram Diversified Entertainment, which promoted the event with Woodstock Ventures. "The spirit seems to be great. The kids are wonderful. The music is wonderful." Garbage Bags as Umbrellas

As the concert moved toward closing and intermittent rain continued, medical officials converted a hospitality tent, set up by Pepsico for V.I.P. guests, into a heated facility for hypothermia victims who might come in during the night. Tens of thousands of garbage bags were being given to people waiting in line to leave.

On one bus leaving, strangers argued about whether they were glad to have come. Many were; Jeff Poirier was not. Mr. Poirier, 31, a graphic artist from Bay City, Mich., had won four tickets, tents, sleeping bags and a cellular telephone from a Michigan radio station that had asked him to call in reports.

"I learned the wrong lesson at Woodstock," said Mr. Poirier. "I learned I love my meaningless little life and all my materialistic things -- my car with air conditioning, my bed, running water." He said he had enjoyed himself until the rain started. But what upset him most were announcements over the public address system that small children were lost. "My wife cried," he said.

Asked about his radio reports back to the station, Mr. Poirier said, "I candy-coated it. I made it sound like I was having a better time than I was. I didn't want to make it sound like hell. I wanted to sound grateful to the station”.

I wonder whether there will be anything planned or released to mark Woodstock 94 and its thirtieth anniversary. A significant festival that took place in one of music’s best and most interesting years, it must have been amazing and sense-altering being there! It was an amazing atmosphere and wonderful celebration…

 DESPITE the weather.

FEATURE: Groovelines: Björk - Oceania

FEATURE:

 

 

Groovelines

Björk - Oceania

_________

THIS feature provides…

a rare opportunity to discuss a Björk song that is not really talked about. The reason why I want to focus on Oceania is because the album it is from, Medúlla, was released on 30th August, 2004. Ahead of its twentieth anniversary, I wanted to throw some love towards one of its standout tracks. I wonder whether Medúlla will be reissued and get an anniversary release. Three years after the more electronic-influenced Vespertine, Björk wanted to create an an album almost entirely constructed with human vocals. A more simplified and stripped-down approach, though also quite complex and ambitious. An artist that changes between albums, it was only natural that she wanted to do something different. There was a lot of positive reception for Medúlla. If some critics deemed Björk’s fifth studio album confusing and were not as impressed as they were with her previous efforts, others applauded how the Icelandic icon was able to switch textures and colours between albums. A big commercial success, I don’t think that enough people know about Medúlla. If we talk about Debut (1993), Post (1995) and Vespertine (2001), there is not enough conversation around Medúlla. Written with Sjón (Sigurjón Birgir Sigurðsson), I am going to move on in a second. Prior to that, here is some critical reaction to Oceania:

“Oceania" received generally positive reviews from music critics. Jennifer Vineyard from MTV News called the song "one of those polarizing songs, with its Ethel Merman-like synchronized vocal sweeps that do suggest the aquatic, in a 1950s sort of way". Entertainment Weekly's Chris Willman labeled the track as a "strikingly beautiful" song. Alex Ross, reporter writing for The New Yorker stated that with "Oceania", Björk "confirmed her status as the ultimate musical cosmopolitan", acquainted with Karlheinz Stockhausen and the Wu-Tang Clan.

Matthew Gasteier from Prefix magazine called the track "the best song on the album", whilst complimenting "its swooping chorus [which] recalls the migration of birds or the time-elapsed drifting of icebergs, a swirl of beauty and power crashing down onto and then rising above the mix. It culminates in the near screech that leads into the sexy-spooky coda". According to Andy Battaglia from The A.V. Club, in a positive review, "the electronic flourish strays from her organic vocal focus, but Björk summons the same kind of tingle with choral language" in the song, "which finds The London Choir reacting to what sounds like a thrilling slow-motion circus act".

"Oceania" was "spoilt by some overenthusiastic vocal whoopings", according to David Hooper from BBC Music. The Guardian's writer David Peschek said that when the singer sings in the song, "choral swoops [explodes] like fireworks behind her". AllMusic's Heather Phares noted that the song, along with Medúlla's lead single "Who Is It", "have an alien quality that is all the stranger considering that nearly all of their source material is human (except for the odd keyboard or two)". Dominique Leone of Pitchfork thought "Oceania" was hardly the most obvious choice for a promotional single release, despite its "bizarre, swooping soprano lines and cyclical chord progression outlined by a chorus of Wyatt vocal samples". Jeremy D. Larson from Time magazine provided a mixed review to the song, stating that it was the best Olympic theme song, but during the Olympics performance, "when she sang 'Every pearl is a lynx is a girl' we think you could hear the world collectively sigh, 'Where's Celine Dion?'". In 2005, the song was nominated for Best Female Pop Vocal Performance at the 47th Grammy Awards but lost out to Norah Jones' "Sunrise".

I am going to wrap up in a minute. There are a couple of things to cover off before that. In 2022, Medium highlighted a Björk album that focused on the human voice. Her most idiosyncratic release to that point. It ranks alongside my favourite album of hers. The superb Medúlla is a phenomenal album that more people should hear. I do hope that there is something planned for its upcoming twentieth anniversary:

“Coming off the critical acclaim of her past four releases, Bjork thought it was time to create an album using only the human voice. This is not just an acapella project, she would bring in the likes of Tanya Tagaq, Mike Patton, Razel, and Dokaka to create the beats and samples that bring the songs to life.

“The album is about voices, I want to get away from instruments and electronics, which was the world of my last album, Vespertine. I want to see what can be done with the entire emotional range of the human voice — a single voice, a chorus, trained voices, pop voices, folk voices, strange voices. Not just melodies but everything else, every noise that a throat makes.The last album was very introverted, It was avoiding eye contact. This one is a little more earthy, but, you know, not exactly simple.”

She was even thinking of having Beyoncé lead her vocals on this project (who unfortunately couldn't due to scheduling conflicts. Recording of the project began back in 2002 as she began to tease several of the tracks on her Greatest Hits tour in 2003 (“Desired Constellation”, “Where is the Line”, “Show Me Forgiveness”, and “Mouth’s Cradle”). She began writing the album shortly after the birth of her daughter Isadora, and as such, themes of motherhood bleed into the project.

“Pleasure is All Mine” and “Mouth’s Cradle” both pass along the theme of maternity. “Pleasure is All Mine” gives off a proud energy. She is happy to be this maternal/nurturing being at this point in her life, “The pleasure is all mine/ To get to be the generous one/ Is the strongest stance/ The pleasure is all mine/ To finally let go/ And evenly flow”. Sonically, it’s a fantastic way to start off the album. You get a little of everything: choirs, beatbox, and textural vocals and throat singing. It’s a delight. “Mouth’s Cradle” samples Bjork’s vocals to create these abstract beats and blips creatively. It almost sounds like programmed synth tones. Again, she discusses the closeness she feels with her new born daughter, Isadora, “There is yet another one/ That follows me/ Wherever I go/ And supports me…”. The track kind of warps on itself at the end as she begins to reference the then state of affairs of world politics and yearning to find safety and stability, “I need a shelter to build an altar away/From all Osamas and Bushes”.

“Oceania” was brought about by Bjork’s participation at the 2004 Olympics. She wanted to write a unifying song that didn’t tread the same cliches that other songs seem to have always fallen into:

“Basically, the Olympics people asked me to do a kind of ‘Ebony and Ivory’ or ‘We Are the World’ type song. Those are smashing tunes and all that, but I thought, ‘Maybe there’s another angle to this.’[…] I think, because the song is all about how the ocean doesn’t see boundaries between countries and thinks everyone is the same.”

What came from this is an utterly otherworldly masterpiece. The choir rises and falls like bubbles rising from below the depths of the ocean. The way these voices are arranged and distorted shimmer like sunlight from below the waves”.

One of the most interesting aspects of Oceania is its music video. Released as a single on 13th August, 2004, you only need to hear the song once before it truly hits you. The video takes you to another world. Directed by the incredible Lynn Fox, Oceania’s video premiered via Björk's official website. Björk made initial sketches for the video. Her impressions going down on paper. Exchanging ideas with Lynn Fox, there was this back and forth between them. The initial animation process was completed in six weeks. I like the fact that there were phone conversations and exchanged emails. The collaboration between artist and director. The shooting process was completed in a few days (in Iceland). Again, I am briefly going to bring in Wikipedia to give more details about the video:

“Like in the song, in the music video Björk is depicted as "Mother Oceania". The video opens with the surface of a body of water appearing yellowish and bright. Camera pans down to darker, deeper waters. Björk appears out of the dark background, singing and covered with sparkling jewels. As the second verse begins, images of jellyfish, representing the continents (her children) are thrown from Björk's hands. During the third verse they swim around and away from their mother, carried by the currents, which move in time with the song. In the bridge section, new sea flowers, with brilliant colors, emerge from the background, in contrast to the muted and darker colors of previous scenes.

As the fifth verse continues, the camera pans back up to the much lighter surface, not seen since the beginning of the video. All sorts of marine life are swimming about the surface. Shortly after the sixth verse begins, Bjork is shown in deep, dark water. Several seconds later, the lighter surface of the water is shown without her. When she begins to sing "Your sweat is salty", a somewhat rapid alternation of images ensues: the light surface is shown for one second, followed by Björk singing in the deep water; these scenes alternate until she stops singing during the coda. Björk's vocal repetition ceases at the same time the visual alternation stops. The surface scene recedes, and Björk in the deep water comes to the fore, slowing. At the end of the video, she stands and smiles”.

Recorded at Olympic Studios in London, I love the fact that Oceania was performed at the 2004 Olympics in Athens, Greece. Wearing a blue dress with draping fabric that billowed around her, it was a fantastic performance. The single has just turned twenty. Then the album it is from turns twenty. Medúlla is a phenomenal work that everyone needs to seek out. One of Björk’s most captivating tracks, it also boasts one of her very best videos. Medúlla turns twenty on 30th August. I think that everyone needs to hear it. There is something accessible and extreme about the album. That is what critics have noted. How you can easily listen to the album, yet it is a very powerful and strange listen at times. Oceania is my standout from Medúlla. It is a song that still moves and affects…

TWENTY years later.

FEATURE: Kate Bush: The Deep Cuts: Blow Away (For Bill)

FEATURE:

 

 

Kate Bush: The Deep Cuts

IN THIS PHOTO: Kate Bush in 1980/PHOTO CREDIT: Mondadori/Getty Images

Blow Away (For Bill)

_________

AN album I have mentioned…

a few times when it comes to this feature, I wanted to revisit 1980’s Never for Ever. Kate Bush’s third album, I think that many people listen to it for its singles – Babooshka, Army Dreamers and Breathing. There is not a lot of investigation regarding its non-singles. I think that some of her most intriguing songs are on this album. All We Ever Look For, The Infant Kiss and Delius (Song of Summer) are among those I would urge people to listen to and seek out. A song that many people would not include in their favourite songs from Never for Ever, I do feel that Blow Away (For Bill) is a treasure that should be appreciated more. The song also inspired a Scottish fanzine, Blowaway. It was short-lived, and it was issued three times in 1985 and early-1986. During its short run, it included a two-part exclusive interview with Michael Hervieu. It is a shame that this song was not exposed and performed more. The title refers to Bill Duffield. He was a lightning assistant/engineer who tragically died after the warm-up gig for The Tour of Life in 1979. Kate Bush, hard hit by his death, immortalised her friend through song. I think that Blow Away (For Bill) is underrated and gets short shrift. Alongside Violin and Egypt, Blow Away (For Bill) is the least-appreciated and played. I don’t know if I have ever heard this played on the radio. Given the fact that it was important to Bush and she wanted to pay tribute to a young man that was lost too soon, this track deserves more respect Before going on, and thanks to the Kate Bush Encyclopedia, we get some interview perspective and interpretation around a song that I really love:

“‘Blow Away’ is a comfort for the fear of dying and for those of us who believe that music is perhaps an exception to the ‘Never For Ever’ rule.

KATE BUSH CLUB NEWSLETTER, SEPTEMBER 1980

IN THIS PHOTO: Kate Bush/PHOTO CREDIT: Andy Phillips

So there’s comfort for the guy in my band, as when he dies, he’ll go “Hi, Jimi!” It’s very tongue-in-cheek, but it’s a great thought that if a musician dies, his soul will join all the other musicians and a poet will join all the Dylan Thomases and all that.

None of those people [who have had near-death experiences] are frightened by death anymore. It’s almost something they’re looking forward to. All of us have such a deep fear of death. It’s the ultimate unknown, at the same time it’s our ultimate purpose. That’s what we’re here for. So I thought this thing about the death-fear. I like to think I’m coming to terms with it, and other people are too. The song was really written after someone very special died.
Although the song had been formulating before and had to be written as a comfort to those people who are afraid of dying, there was also this idea of the music, energies in us that aren’t physical: art, the love in people. It can’t die, because where does it go? It seems really that music could carry on in radio form, radio waves… There are people who swear they can pick up symphonies from Chopin, Schubert. We’re really transient, everything to do with us is transient, except for these non-physical things that we don’t even control…

KRIS NEEDS, ‘LASSIE’. ZIGZAG (UK), NOVEMBER 1985”.

Blow Away (For Bill) is an interesting song. A demo version of it appeared on YouTube back in 2010 (though I can’t locate it or the 1979 lone live performance). The phrase, “Put out the Light, then put out the light” is from Shakespeare’s Othello. One of the most interesting aspects of the track is the name of departed artists. We hear name-checked Minnie Riperton, Keith Moon, Sid Vicious, Buddy Holly and Sandy Denny. There are songs that Kate Bush never played live. You do wonder what they would have sounded like on the stage. Blow Away (For Bill) was only performed once live. Kate Bush debuted the song on 18th November, 1979 during a performance at the Royal Albert Hall during an event celebrating seventy-five years of the London Symphony Orchestra. There is not a whole lot of positivity in the media for the song. It is a shame. Any reviews I read around Never for Ever call the track inessential, meandering, unfocused, average or something else. There has been very little love for it. When MOJO named Kate Bush’s best fifty songs earlier this year, they placed Blow Away (For Bill) at forty-two:

“Blow Away

(From Never For Ever, 1980)

KB fears the tug of that stupid club.

The jazz tow of the bass and crisp piano-guitar counterpoints suggest Steely Dan’s sophisto-rock. But it’s unlikely that Donald Fagen ever expressed the looming, tantalising proximity of non-being so viscerally, if he ever felt it. Where does music go when we die? wonders Bush. Is it part of our souls? With the recent loss of Tour Of Life lighting engineer Bill Duffield, these were live issues for the ever-sensitive singer, and fed this track’s haunting, dissociative feel”.

I would love to see an animated video for Blow Away (For Bill). Seeing these lines comes to life: “Our engineer had a different idea/From people who nearly died but survived/Feeling no fear of leaving their bodies here/And went to a room that was soon full of visitors”; “Put out the light, then, put out the light/Vibes in the sky invite you to dine/Dust to dust/Blow to blow/Bolan and Moony are heading the show tonight”. As I say. Nearly everything written about Blow Away (For Bill) is half-hearted, or feels that the lyrics are lazy and do not coalesce. That it is a nice idea for a song, though it doesn’t really have impact or real depth. I would argue against this. It is a gem from Never for Ever. Five years ago, this feature explored the fascinating Blow Away (For Bill):

“While we’re dealing with mortality, we have to deal with the jaw-dropping fact that Bush quotes Othello in this song. “Put out the light/then put out the light” is her Shakespeare line of choice. In the context of the song, the quote is the opener for the meandering third verse. The lines that follow never quite cohere into a strong verse (“dust to dust/blow to blow”), but it’s worth thinking about why Bush copped this Othello quote. The line comes from Othello’s ending, in which Othello is preparing to murder his wife Desdemona in her sleep, falsely believing her to be an adultress. The line is a Shakespearean double-entendre, referring both to snuffing out Desdemona’s life and to her pale skin (the race politics in Othello are among the most fascinating and analyzed in all of literature). The actual meaning of this line is, of course, lost when deprived on context. Yet it’s an interesting line for Bush to lean on. It frames the deaths of these popular stars — and Sid Vicious — as classical tragedies, the downfall of great artistic figures. It risks being hagiographic, but at the same time there’s something compelling about the strangeness of this framing.

IN THIS PHOTO: Kate Bush performing during the London Symphony Orchestra's seventy-fifth anniversary concert at the Royal Albert Hall, London, on 18th November, 1979

The use of Buddy Holly as a poster child for rock tragedy harkens back to another Seventies songs featuring his death, Don McLean’s “American Pie.” That paean to the fifties which has caused many boomers to explode phallic blood vessels is more grossly nostalgic than “Blow Away.” Tom Ewing has a great write-up of Madonna’s “American Pie” cover on Popular (which you frankly should read instead of wasting time on this blog), so I won’t discuss it in too much depth here, but suffice it to say that the song is a veritable tome of song references by a songwriter who can’t get over the music of his youth (Ewing hilariously mocks McLean’s unsubstle “Eight Miles High” namedrop). Ewing describes “American Pie” as “a theological dispute between Buddy Holly and Mick Jagger.” Holly is an ideological ploy for McLean’s rockist sectarianism. Little insight is offered into the workings of Fifties music. What McLean gives the listener is a nostalgia package: memory is what he trades on. In McLean’s mind, Altamont didn’t strike the killing blow to the Sixties dream: it was dead when it started. Mick Jagger ever getting on stage was the cardinal sin for “American Pie.” McLean’s use of “The Day the Music Died” isn’t a simple metaphor for the deaths of a few rock ‘n’ roll singers. In McLean’s view, it’s the point an entire tradition is co-opted and desecrated by these Lennon-McCartney whippersnappers.

Bush, of course, isn’t writing a song about the careers of Buddy Holly and the other deceased either. But “Blow Away” where differs from “American Pie” isn’t especially nostalgic — its points of sentiment were largely contemporary deaths. When Keith Moon overdosed, one of the biggest quartets in rock was partially dissolved. Punk discovered new proverbial dangers in Sid Vicious’ death. When the Seventies ended, a lot of assurance about how musicians lived and worked died with them. “Blow Away” can be read as a testament to this, chronicling the way popular music responds to the deaths of its idols. Framing the song as she does around a room where one can meet Minnie Riperton and Marc Bolan, she places deceased musicians in a paradise of their own. Certainly she’s lionizing these figures — which is maybe not a great move in a song namedropping alleged murderer Sid Vicious — but she’s engaging in ideas beyond “my generation of music is cooler than yours.” Think Bob Seger’s “Old Time Rock and Roll,” but for people who still get laid.

There are reasons for this. Unlike McLean, Bush is going to keep writing songs people care about. She’s still paving the way for the music of the Eighties. While “Blow Away” is one of the less synthy tracks on Never for Ever, it’s more ambient than some of the songs on Bush’s first two albums. The Martin Ford Orchestra’s strings gives the song space, and Bush’s piano playing often has moments of silence which let the song breathe. The actual rhythm of the song is minimal, lacking the urgency of more rock-inflected music. It’s almost New Age, but in a genuinely spiritual way.

So what does “Blow Away” think of the afterlife? Well, it clearly thinks there is one. The dead have souls in Bush’s music. Her universe is populated by spectres — “The Kick Inside” and “Hammer Horror” demonstrate that. “Blow Away” fills their slot on Never for Ever — the song for those beyond the grave. Yet “Blow Away” is more optimistic about their chances of a happy eternity. Consciousness may thrive after death, but Bush has finally liberated her deceased characters of their mortal woes. Part of this is a matter of taste: everyone knows Keith Moon is in hell, but in 1980 it wouldn’t have been politic to say it in a song. Yes, there’s reverence for these musicians in this song, but the nostalgia is alleviated by the thoughtful weirdness of the song. It’s not the most radical song on the album, but it’s assuring that Bush’s optimism for the power of artistic imagination extends beyond the grave.

Performed live on 18 November 1979 at Royal Albert Hall. Recorded September 1979 at London AIR Studios. Personnel: Kate Bush — vocals, piano. Preston Heyman — drums, percussion. Max Middleton — Fender Rhodes, string arrangement. Brian Bath — acoustic guitar. Martin Ford Orchestra — strings”.

In September, it will be forty-five year since Kate Bush started recording Never for Ever. A short time after the completion of The Tour of Life, she produced this wonderful album alongside Jon Kelly. One of her most underrated works, there are so many great songs that do not get focus. I feel that Blow Away (For Bill) is among them. So much apathy among those who write about it. It is a beautiful and heartfelt cut that stemmed from a place of loss. Bush wanted to include in title – though it is often shortened to Blow Away – the name of someone who she knew for a brief time but meant a lot to her. For that reason alone, the third track on her third studio album is…

A wonderful tribute.

FEATURE: Take Your Best Shot: The Huge Importance of Music Photography

FEATURE:

 

 

Take Your Best Shot

IN THIS PHOTO: Róisín Murphy/PHOTO CREDIT: Christian Angerer for Ibiza Style Magazine

The Huge Importance of Music Photography

_________

I do feel that…

PHOTO CREDIT: Matt Hardy/Pexels

the importance of visuals in music are perhaps less important than they were. If not less important, one cannot argue against the fact that there has been a change and shift. I don’t think that music videos are as valued and prominent as they used to be. Artists still make them, though we don’t really have music T.V. anymore. Videos are viewed in private and rarely shared on social media as being this amazing or innovative thing. I remember when I was a child, there was a real lure and attraction discovering a music video that was hugely original and eye-catching. Maybe the more digital music becomes, the less we associate music with the visual. I do think that there is a sad loss of that medium. Artists maybe do not have the budget to make really big or groundbreaking videos. Those that do are getting streams and likes based on their popularity rather than the quality of the video. There are features that highlight the best music videos of the year, though the best of the best cannot really stand up against the best of the past. Less determination for artists to equal and better. The same could be said of album covers. We do have some stunning examples each year. I am curious whether there is that appeal of making a really phenomenal album cover. One that can challenge the all-time best. Maybe I am wrong, though it is clear that there is perhaps less to play for. Artists do not need that visual magnetism to get their albums sold. I still feel that there is a real need for album covers to be as strong and good as they can be. So that vinyl is passed down for decades more, the pull of the album cover is paramount. If we feel music is more about streaming and less about making the visual side of things engaging, then we risk losing something very meaningful and important.

IN THIS PHOTO: Jesse Jo Stark/PHOTO CREDIT: Phoebe Fox (this article is well worth a read)

It is all about an artist’s identity. Putting their stamp on a video or album cover. The same could be said for music photography. There is a corner that argue it is a medium that is less important in the digital age. If we can all take photographs ourselves and there is no real ‘difficulty’ filtering and manipulating a photo, then what value do photographers add?! The thing is, they are professionals who think about the right camera to use. The right conditions and lenses. You cannot really get the same feeling and look from a smartphone than you can a real camera. It is about concept too. You do get photographers who will take basic portraits or simple shots. There is nothing wrong with that. Also, a very packed and too busy photo can be overwhelming and too much. It is about striking that balance. A wonderful music photograph draws the eye and opens the mind. The reason I have selected that photo of Róisín Murphy as the main one is that it is beautifully composed. It looks like this throwback to the 1950s or 1960s. The colours and what she is wearing. At first, you cannot tell if she is standing up and the record player and albums are stuck to the wall, or it is a shot of her on the floor and the camera angle is deceiving. You also wonder what she is thinking. You immerse yourself in the world of that photo shoot. She is creating a character and a story. Kudos to Christian Angerer for bringing so much to that shoot. Not only do you want to read the interview the photos are associated with. You also see Róisín Murphy in a different light. Seek out her music. Photography can have that pull. They create this identity and narrative. Not something that you can get from an amateur. I think the sheer mass of photos shared online distils the artform. It is good people can document their lives, though there is this assumption that modern technology makes traditional photographers obsolete or less distinct.

IN THIS PHOTO: Karol G/PHOTO CREDIT: Vijat Mohindra via Billboard

That is not the case. Especially with music photography, it is much more about taking the shot. Artists still need photos taken to strengthen their portfolio. It shows that artists are serious. I know that not every artist will have the opportunity to be photographed for magazines and websites. They may have to hire a photographer. There is also that split between concert photography and other shoots. Taking a great shot of an artist in action take a different set of skills to a composition. Live photography seems to be about trying to capture the mood of a going or getting that definitive image. If you have more time to compose a photo that creates its own challenges. It is a fascinating medium. Truly brilliant music photographs can ensure and inspire for years to come. I am glad there is recognition of the best photographs from each year. Those who say that anyone can be a photographer and it is not important these days should look at the best music photos of the year and think about the talent and detail involved. How there is this strong connection between music and photography. The Abbey Road Music Photography Awards are relatively new:

“Photography has defined some of the greatest moments in the history of music. The Abbey Road Music Photography Awards celebrates, showcases and supports the global community of music photographers and the images that create and shape culture, connect music fans to the artists they love, and define music iconography for generations to come. This year we've returned for our third edition, delivering the next chapter of a long-term vision for supporting, showcasing & enabling the best in music photography, firmly establishing us as the foremost competition in music photography”.

 IN THIS PHOTO: YUNGBLUD/PHOTO CREDIT: Tom Pallant

I really love a great music photograph. I am more a fan of studio compositions and those we can associate with the image of Róisín Murphy at the top of this feature. That said, I have admiration for live photography. The skillset it takes to capture an image from a gig that stands in the mind. The patience and instinct that is needed. Putting yourself in a position where you can get the best shot too. The same for studio photography and stuff on location. Choosing the right spot and getting the concept right. Trying to consciously bring the best out of your subject without being too forcefully. Making the image seem natural when it is posed and staged. That is a really hard thing. You compare all of this with what people share online and it is clear that amateur photography does not compare to professionals. Music is still very visual, so we need to recognise the importance of music photographers. It is sad that videos are losing their appeal and seem to be less regarded as they were years ago. The same with album covers perhaps. Music journalism and print media is still alive. Great photography can win artists new fans. It can be a hugely powerful promotional tool. I wonder how much we think of the photographers and what they add. Photography is as subjective as anything, so we all get different things from photos. I prefer compositions that are not straight portraits. Throw in something that is a bit conceptual and imaginative. A straight portrait can be powerful, though it is harder grab attention and stay in the mind. The best live shots are ones where you feel like you are at the gig and capturing this moment that nobody else has seen. We need to regard music photographers more highly than we do. Understand how important the medium is and how difficult it is. Even so, it is an industry that is always looking for new talent. Music photography will not die. Amateurs with smartphones are not taking their place and never could! There is so much more to music photography that goes beyond having a phone. There is a knowledge, passion, set of skills that you and me to do not possess. It is high time that we give these creatives…

MORE exposure.

FEATURE: Kate Bush: The Tour of Life: When Kate and Del Met

FEATURE:

 

 

Kate Bush: The Tour of Life

IN THIS PHOTO: Del Palmer and Kate Bush performing in 1985/PHOTO CREDIT: ZIK Images/United Archives via Getty Images

When Kate and Del Met

_________

ONE of the most interesting…

IN THIS PHOTO: Del Palmer and Kate Bush in 1985/PHOTO CREDIT: Dave Hogan/Getty Images

chapters in Kate Bush’s life is when she met Del Palmer. We sadly lost him in January at the age of seventy-one. It was a huge shock for the Kate Bush fan community. One of the most important people in her life, he was almost like family. The two were friends and colleagues for well over forty years. It was an amazing bond. In addition to Palmer playing on most of Kate Bush’s albums, he was also her engineer for years. A pivotal rock and comfort during some very tough times in Bush’s life, I get the feeling that they were both different and similar. Able to bounce ideas off of one another and deflect each other’s stress. When Bush was working tirelessly during recording of The Dreaming and it was released in 1982, Palmer would have been a huge support. Both of them working very closely on that album. Their collaboration continued on and you could tell how essential their chemistry was during 1985’s Hounds of Love. Palmer was Bush’s musician and engineer right up until her most recent album, 2011’s 50 Words for Snow. You know, if he were still with us, they would be working on something together. I hear lots of stories about Palmer. How he has turned up meet fans at local events and conventions. Perhaps spurred on by Kate Bush, everyone says how down-to-Earth he was. A regular person who was great to be around and really connected with people. Palmer was proud of working with Kate Bush and performed in a tribute band dedicated to her. He was featured in multiple interview and documentaries. This was someone that was woven into the fabric of Kate Bush’s career and life.

IN THIS PHOTO: Del Palmer in 1993

I know that I wrote about Del Palmer this year after he died. I was keen to mark his life and react to that tragic and unexpected news. It is clear how much he is missed. It is so hard to talk about Kate Bush and her music without mentioning Del Palmer. The story of how they met and how their relationship blossomed is fascinating. Again, a nod and salute to Graeme Thomson and his biography, Under the Ivy: The Life and Music of Kate Bush. His writing about how Kate Bush and Del Palmer met is engrossing and vivid. That first spark and curiosity began when Palmer was rehearsing with Kate Bush. They played together in the KT Bush Band. Playing a string of gigs around London and the South. They enjoyed a brief career playing pubs and clubs prior to Bush stepping into the studio to complete recording of The Kick Inside in 1977. When Bush was still a teenager, there was this bond and connection between her and Del Palmer. Palmer had an attraction to Bush when they rehearsed at Greenwich Baths. That intrigue. Fellow bandmates Brian Bath and Vic King remember talking about a gig at Lewisham’s Black Cat. Suspecting something might be happening between Bush and Palmer. Neither thought they would be a long-lasting thing. From Palmer and Bush playing together and socialising at the Bush family home at East Wickham Farm, life on the road – a local circuit – brought them closer together.

When they came together and started to turn their working relationship into a romantic one, Bush was eighteen and Palmer was twenty-four. In spite of the age gap, there was no real issue and judgment. Bush was very mature and Palmer was a good influence. Not someone who was taking advantage. Bush was always attracted to older men. That feeling was that anyone close to Kate Bush was too subjective. Everything she does was great. Maybe her father – who she would often play songs to when she was first writing tracks – would have some constructive feedback but, mostly, I think her family were too close and lacked objectivity. Del Palmer was very fond of Kate Bush, though he was an outsider who could see any minor flaws and make suggestions. That could cause some blowback and tension. Kate Bush never too comfortable hearing anything negative about her. Someone exposing some of her weaknesses. From the glowing positivity she got from her family, it must have been strange hearing some more balanced feedback. That honesty from Del Palmer was maybe a shock at first. Bush used Palmer’s critique and opinions professionally. Relying on him as a sounding board and trusted friend, you can trace that long and natural relationship back to the very start. Bush said she could not find young men attractive. Palmer was very different to Bush’s inner circle and family. He was this loveable and straight-talking guy who swore a lot and liked fast cars. It seems like a mismatch, though there was this contrast that worked really well! They had a lot of common. Palmer, such a fan of Bush’s work, was as interested in Bush professionally and as an artist as he was romantically.

I often think about them meeting. Sort of finding each other through mutual friends. Those first gigs as part of the KT Bush Band. I can imagine Bush being naturally attracted to Del Palmer because of his humour, kindness and directness. Not in a bad way. Someone who respected Bush and did not want to lie. He was fascinated by her incredible talent. Not many women leading bands in the late-1970s. A beguiling and original artist, the two had this easy and strong bond. That grew and developed through the years. From Del Palmer being in her band, he then assumed more responsibility when it came to Kate Bush’s music. Both of them side by side in the studio for years and then, when they spent hours honing tracks and spending all that time together, they would hang out as a couple. Quite private, the fact that they did not have any major fallouts (apart from the odd bigger row) during their time together speaks volumes. Kate Bush’s songs are so positive towards men. I think part of that has to do with Del Palmer. This very supportive and dedicated partner and fellow artist. As one of the most important people in her life, I don’t think we saw the full range of grief Bush experienced this year when we learned of Palmer’s death.

The private turmoil. All of those memories. Rather than make this morbid, I think about the great moments they had together. The videos of Bush’s Palmer appeared in. The photos and times when they were at Kate Bush fan conventions together. One of the most crucial moments in Kate Bush’s career (and life) was when she and Del Palmer met. Now that he has gone, I am not sure we will get to know the details and full story. How they both really felt. They broke up in the late-1980s – though some sources say later – but remained good friends. When Bush’s mother died in 1992, Palmer was still there for her and was seen in public with Bush. Their friendship and closeness remained long after they broke up. Her trusted right-hand man and one of the few people she trued around her music, we all still miss Del Palmer. Let’s not get sad and sombre. Instead, let’s cast our mind back to the 1977 and the two on a small stage somewhere in London before things really exploded. The feelings and thoughts in both of their heads. Neither knowing they would fall for each other and spend decades in each other’s lives. To have seen them as part of The KT Bush Band. It must have been thrilling and awe-inspiring…

PHOTO COMPOSITE: Kate Bush News

TO have been there.

FEATURE: This Is Yesterday: Manic Street Preachers’ The Holy Bible at Thirty

FEATURE:

 

 

This Is Yesterday

Manic Street Preachers’ The Holy Bible at Thirty

_________

ONE of the greatest albums of the 1990s…

PHOTO CREDIT: Dave Tonge/Getty Images

turns thirty on 29th August. Manic Street Preachers’ The Holy Bible was a period of change for the Welsh quartet. Their third studio album was the final one to feature Richey Edwards. He would have writing credits on 1996’s Everything Must Go, through he disappeared in 1995. Edwards was dealing with severe depression, substance abuse, self-harm and anorexia nervosa during the writing and recording of the album. The Holy Bible reached number six in the U.K. It was not a worldwide success. Perhaps some found it too dark or heavy as a listen. It is one of Manic Street Preachers’ most important, open and accomplished albums. To mark its upcoming thirtieth anniversary, there are some features that I want to bring in. I am not sure whether there is going to be a special and expanded vinyl reissue of this stunning album. The first feature is from Albumism. They celebrated twenty-five years of The Holy Bible in 2019:

“Despite its dour worldview, antagonistic posture, and, at the time, quite poor sales, The Holy Bible has been recast as a triumph of extreme art, a perception that the fans and the band themselves have been happy to help promote. The record has also been honored with two in-depth retrospective reissues—one on its tenth anniversary and another on its twentieth—followed by a tour and a cumulative performance at Cardiff Castle in which the band dolled themselves up in military regalia and spun the record out in its entirety followed by another set of crowd-pleasing hit singles.

So what more can be said?

I’ll offer here a personal perspective of the record because, in essence, this is all I have, what any of us really have, and an argument I have made in many of my writings on Manic Street Preachers: a version of the band that is ours and ours only.

Manic Street Preachers had made no sense to me until late 1996 and only through the lens of Britpop did they emerge in my line of sight. There had been previous echoes of the band as my listening tastes broadened and developed. My older sister owned the band’s second record Gold Against the Soul (1993) on cassette tape. I stole it from her shelf, listened to the first few tracks and tossed it aside. It wasn’t Iron Maiden, Metallica, Guns N’ Roses or Def Leppard enough for me. It was too emotional, too soft. I overheard a radio broadcast about the disappearance of Edwards and shrugged it off as another casualty of rock & roll excess. I had succumbed to American rock and grunge, where my interests lay until Oasis blew up and my focus returned to the music scene that was happening within my own shores.

Manic Street Preachers lay on the periphery. Not Britpop enough, not hard rock enough. When they released the single “Australia” from their mega-selling post-Bible record, Everything Must Go (1996), something just clicked. I was hooked and obsessed with their history almost instantly.

After receiving Everything Must Go as a Christmas present, the record stayed in my CD player for six months solid. For my birthday the following July, I was gifted the band's debut record Generation Terrorists (1992). A CD copy of Gold Against the Soul was acquired at some point (possibly my sister gave me a copy as I have no recollection of purchasing it) and towards the end of the summer I geared up towards buying The Holy Bible, a record I'd only read about in passing from snippets in the music press, the consensus perspective being that the record was a bit "dark.”

In the blistering summer of 1997, I made my way to the local HMV and found the record in the stacks. I returned home and slipped it into the player, took out the inlay booklet that contained the lyrics and hit play on my machine.

Confusion. Utter, utter confusion.

The opening lines of the opening song "Yes" read "for sale, dumb cunt same dumb questions.” The tune to “Yes” was also a bit nauseating. The second song was titled "Ifwhiteamericatoldthetruthforonedayit'sworldwouldfallapart" and seemed, like its title, to contain too many words for the music to accommodate. The third song was called “Of Walking Abortion.” I motioned my finger further down the track listing: “Mausoleum.” “Die in the Summertime,” "The Intense Humming of Evil.” The description of “dark” did not quite cut it. The Holy Bible was scathing, unrepentant, horrifying.

Throughout the record, small snippets of recorded dialogue can be heard. On “Mausoleum” the voice of British author J.G. Ballard summarizes his 1973 novel Crash by saying, “I wanted to rub the human face in its own vomit, and force it to look in the mirror.” This single quotation perfectly encapsulates The Holy Bible at its core. The record wishes to put the listener on trial. The vitriol is directly pointed at you (“who’s responsible / you fucking are” - “Of Walking Abortion”).

This did not gel with the brash naive glitter of the band’s debut record or the stauncher and reserved intelligence of Everything Must Go. The surrounding Britpop scene was about having a lark and enjoying life. Anthems like Blur’s "Girls & Boys," Supergrass' "Alright" and to an extent the holler of “we only want to get drunk” from the Manics’ own “A Design for Life” surely confirmed this.

The summer of 1997 was a jubilant time. Cool Britannia, Noel and Meg, Liam and Patsy, Damon and Justine all loved up on the front pages of the daily newspapers, Tony Blair and Gordon Brown in the offices of parliamentary power and pushing a liberal-left agenda on the country. It felt great to be young and alive. The Holy Bible was something else, something that could not be understood in the confines of a small bedroom on a summer’s day in the new clothes of a third way liberal democracy. No disillusionment had crept into my pretty decent and laddish existence. Yet.

To think of The Holy Bible as an anomaly, a blade that punctures the narrative of the band, is a mistake. It has to be heard as a perfectly executed part of the evolution in sound. The real spanner in the works came with the disappearance of Richey Edwards that changed the direction and tone of the remaining members. The confrontation heard on Generation Terrorists and The Holy Bible was scaled back and could never really be repeated, though they certainly tried on 2001’s Know Your Enemy.

No more youthful proclamations of “I laughed when Lennon got shot” as they had delivered on “Motown Junk” or “I am stronger than Mensa, Miller and Mailer” as they had boasted on “Faster.” Now the band’s approach was “analysis through paralysis” (from the EMG era B-side “Dead Trees and Traffic Islands”), or in other words, treading on the shadow of Edwards whilst still, in essence, remaining the same band to themselves and their fans, new and old.

So, yes a lot has been written and said about The Holy Bible. And what I've written here is not original nor has it added anything new to the discussion about this record. I've lightly trod on the same ground everyone else has. Everyone is guilty.

And yet, despite all of this content, the record still offers a fascination that seems, 25 years later, insatiable. I want to read more. I want to know more. I want to see and hear other perspectives. Even if we tread over old ground, it is old ground trod in a fresh pair of shoes. To know what others think and feel about not just the The Holy Bible, but any Manics release, any part of the band's history, is to be enlightened by that singular experience that no one else has had.

And now we turn to another perspective, that of writer David Evans, who recently authored The Holy Bible installment of Bloomsbury’s 33 ⅓ series of music books.

When did you become a fan of Manic Street Preachers, and how have they, as a band, influenced you as a writer and thinker?

I became a fan of the Manics in 2001, when I was in my mid-teens. I remember being dimly aware of them when they were at the height of their popularity in the 1990s, but I was more interested in the likes of Steps at the time. I’d bought a compilation CD called Q Anthems, which was full of some really quite awful music. But “A Design for Life” was on there, and that was the hook. Soon afterwards I got hold of Simon Price’s brilliant biography of the band, which taught me the history, and worked my way through their back catalogue.

Beyond the music, the thing that really drew me in was an idea that permeates everything they’ve done—that pop music at its best is deeply embedded in society and entwined with wider culture. The Manics’ records were like mini-encyclopedias that featured quotes from films and literature and encouraged you to strike out and explore new cultural landscapes.

There was a Reithian element to their approach: they wanted to inform and educate, as well as entertain. Without their influence, I would never have studied philosophy at university, or gone on to write about Herman Melville, whose name I first came across on the sleeve of an early Manics single. They completely changed my life, and there are lots of other fans with similar stories.

You decided to write about one particular Manic Street Preachers album, The Holy Bible. Why did you select this album and why do you still think it resonates 25 years after it was released?

The Holy Bible will always be associated with Richey Edwards’ disappearance in 1995, not long after the album’s release, and that’s where a lot of the lingering interest comes from. For many people, The

Lyrically speaking, the album has come under great scrutiny, especially in the wake of the disappearance of the record’s main author, Richey Edwards. What’s your perspective on The Holy Bible’s lyrical themes and Edwards’ legacy?

Richey Edwards and Nicky Wire shared lyric writing duties in the Manics, but The Holy Bible is mostly Richey’s work (aside from “This is Yesterday,” one of the gentler lyrics on the record). The Holy Bible’s themes include sex work, American imperialism, fascism, serial murder, genocide and political correctness. The band are from a staunchly socialist area in South Wales and always espoused left-wing causes, and the album can be read in that light. They are standing up for the underdog and standing against imperialism and capitalist excess, although a couple of the lyrics could be construed as libertarian in outlook”.

In the features that are out there, you get a lot of depth and insight. I would recommend that you read the entire article. I have been taken a fair bit from each. In 2021, Guitar.com saluted the genius of The Holy Bible. I have been thinking more deeply about the album after reading this feature:

“Lust, vice and sin

Though Edwards was its prime instigator, the collective agreement to pursue a darker direction had stemmed from a shared sense that the band was at an impasse, following the muted reception that met their previous record. “There was a realisation that we hadn’t got as big as we thought we would have.” Manics’ bassist and additional lyricist Nicky Wire reflected, back in a 2014 interview with NME, who also admitted that the switch was spurred by the band wanting to be ‘100 per cent truer to ourselves’. James Dean Bradfield, too was conscious of the band beginning to slide into a predictably ‘rockist’ niche.

In pursuit of this truer sound, the band resisted label pressure to record in a luxurious studio in sun-drenched Barbados and instead decamped to Cardiff’s minuscule Sound Space Studios. It was here the four set to work on concocting the more upfront sound which was more in-keeping with their formative influences, such as Joy Division, The Clash and Magazine.

Though friend and engineer Alex Silva was on hand to capture and engineer the four, no overall producer was designated. Silva told the R*E*P*E*A*T Fanzine that “I think at the time, the band had an ideal, James said that ‘No albums have been produced since Led Zeppelin III’. So in that case, they felt there was no need for a producer as such – maybe because the term ‘producer’ carried too much weight for them. I’m fine with my credit, I just recorded what was there.” Another guiding hand who would enter the frame later in the process came in the shape of mixer Mark Freeegard, who told the same fanzine that the recording choice to initially capture the album on 1-inch tape factored into the demo-like sound the band were striving for.

For The Holy Bible sessions, Bradfield minimised the number of guitars, and stuck largely to his trusty white Gibson Les Paul; a staple instrument that he’d purchased from a Denmark Street guitar shop back in the early 1990s. It’s a guitar that has appeared in some form on every MSP record. “It is my most valuable six-stringed friend” he lovingly expressed to Guitarist in 2014. Bradfield also used a buttercream Fender Jazzmaster for a handful of other songs, including the tonal switch of the glistening open-G-forged This Is Yesterday – a gorgeous composition that serves as the record’s brightest moment, a lone glimmer of candlelight in the stygian abyss.

James used both a Marshall amp through a 4×12 cab, as well as a Vox AC30 throughout the recording, with the occasional use of Soldano amp, output through the same Marshall cab. Though this was the core of the rigid and deliberately minimal set-up, Bradfield’s Fender Twin Reverb was occasionally wheeled into the studio to wrangle a few more interesting tones. Pedals were also kept at a relative minimum, though an unmistakable BOSS Hyper-Fuzz (rumoured to have actually been owned by Richey Edwards) is regularly deployed. A CH-1 Super Chorus (with a super fast oscillation) augments the sound of Faster’s opening squeal and is used in more slowly oscillated form for the racing barrage of Of Walking Abortion’s intro. Other effects were achieved with rack mounted units, such as the Marshall Time Modulator.

Though Edwards shaped the record from a conceptual standpoint, he never actually recorded any guitar parts himself, entrusting the more capable Bradfield to meticulously lay down each part. On the resulting tour however, Richey was known for sporting an elegant Thinline Fender Telecaster (later to be used by Bradfield) as well as his own Les Paul Standard.

I am an architect

Working from Edwards’ unstructured, essay-like lyrics, James assembled tight chord sequences, layered with turbulent eddies of noise, while also slotting Richey’s words into immaculate top-line melodies. It was a challenging, unconventional approach; “Some of the lyrics confused me. Some were voyeuristic and some were coming from personal experience. I remember getting the lyrics to [album opener] Yes and thinking ‘You crazy fucker, how do I write music for this?’” he recalled in the liner notes for the tenth anniversary edition of the record.

From the outset, Bradfield’s supreme gift for riff-craft is palpable. Propulsive opener Yes’s lead riff in E major manages to set both the jogging pace of the track, while also being spiky enough to mirror the bubbling paranoia of its lyric. As Bradfield fiercely delivers Edwards’ fractured observations on the parallels between prostitution and the broader notion that ‘everyone has a price’, this lasooing, spritely riff keeps the arrangement energetic, trickling out the scale’s notes rhythmically while a punctuated hammer on G♯ from F♯ contributes to a sense of unease. Jumping to a fuzzed-up, punkier tone for what is technically a pre-chorus (though in reality serves as the first of two different choruses for the song), the band ramp up the intensity with a sequence that switches to A major, before sliding back to E, a tonal switch of a C♯ and G♯, before a leap to a B major bridges us toward the chorus proper – a cacophonous, doom-laden ascent from E to C♯m, leading us to a wavering wobble over the precipice of a 7th position E5 power chord. It’s an exhilarating start that decrees the shifting violent sonic tone of the record.

The volatility is kept as the second track’s laddering 6-note riff jostles for attention, untangling itself to reveal the ferocious assault of Ifwhiteamericatoldthetruthforonedayit’sworldwouldfallapart. In lieu of a conventional chord sequence, Bradfield arpeggiates a deathly-sounding Cmaj7 shape, fretted down in the E note of the A string on the 7th fret. This macabre motif frames a venomously spat lyric, as Edwards’ words unpick the hollow fallacy of the exported American dream. A hard-lurch into a rhythmically double stopped E major chord ushers in what sounds like a cavalry charge, surging down a hill, as drummer Sean Moore thunders on his kit militaristically, and James swings between four valiant-sounding chords.

This newer, more intense, version of the Manics wasn’t just the result of stomping on a fuzz pedal and hammering out a salvo of power-chords, Bradfield’s writing on The Holy Bible is more carefully constructed than ever. The spindly, palm-muted arpeggios of She Is Suffering sounds like an inverse, gothic re-working of The Police’s Every Breath You Take while the perilous atmosphere of the tense Die In The Summertime finds Bradfield creatively playing off Edward’s lyric with a rigid two-note riff. “It’s quite a muso album” Bradfield claimed at the 2015 NME Awards, “It’s all very interlocked with each other – and it’s very fast.”

Even a close listen to the record’s punchy post-punk triumvirate of Revol, Faster and P.C.P affirms Bradfield’s commitment to housing and enhancing Edwards’ potent themes above all. Faster in particular is notable for its squalling high-oscillation Chorus pedal wail, as well as its thorny, push-and-shove verse part; both sections built from two wildly different, but complementary, variations of the same two notes (G♯ and A). The pulsing heartbeat of the verse part allows for the record’s most fluid stream-of-consciousness tirade. “I remember reading the first line of Faster – ‘I am an architect, they call me a butcher.’ – and I thought ‘Fucking hell, I can’t fuck this up, I’ve got to write some great music to this”, Remembered Bradfield, in Kevin Cummins’ Assassinated Beauty.

No birds

Interspersed throughout the record, are a series of – often chilling – spoken word audio samples (captured with Sean Moore’s newly purchased S1000 Akai) taken from a range of films, documentaries and interviews. These clips preface the thematic concerns of the songs-proper, such as the haunting clip of Irene MacDonald, the mother of Jayne MacDonald – a victim of atrocious serial killer Peter Sutcliffe – which prologues Edwards’ capital punishment-oriented Archives of Pain. This song proved to be a controversial one, with a seemingly pro-death penalty lyric that would perturb analysts for decades to come. Driven by Nicky Wire’s sludgy bass line, James sheds some high register rivulets of sound before snapping in line with Wire’s brutal riff-march. Haunting chorus-soaked arpeggios frame its chorus section, as Edwards’ most sinister lyrics yet are delivered. A fittingly odd arrangement for a particularly grim piece.

At its darkest, The Holy Bible underscores its writer’s unrelentingly bleak outlook on humanity, and the shape of the systems that govern it. It’s unquestionably a troubled mind that lay behind Of Walking Abortion’s indictment of humanity’s indifference to suffering, The Intense Humming of Evil’s fragments of barbarous holocaust imagery and Mausoleum’s black-skied, corpse-ridden landscape. But, it’s 4st 7lb where Edwards’ own personal pain reveals itself more candidly. The first song recorded for the album, this remorseless semi-self-portrait of a struggling anorexic, also illuminates his gift for poetic lyricism. For the track, Bradfield opted to set a tormented tone with an off-kilter, jittery riff, adrift amongst waves of feedback. The arrangement builds out with snaking fuzz riffs and staccato chord punctuation, as well as an ethereal, chorus-drenched second section, which features some harmonious Les Paul licks. It’s a painterly approach that wrings out every drop of the lyric’s underlying emotional heart”.

There is one more feature I want to source from before wrapping up. Ringer marked twenty-five years of The Holy Bible. Discussing this masterful work that was released in a year and at a time when Britpop was coming through. Few albums could be further away from that sound than Manic Street Preachers’ third studio album. I think it still sounds as affecting and singular as it did when it came out nearly thirty years ago:

“There’s also a fine line between vulnerability and exhibitionism, and the record’s emotional affect is derived from how deeply Edwards was reaching into his own pain. At several points, he was hospitalized for anorexia, and on the devastating “4st 7lb,” the narrator—who seems to be a teenage girl, though her identity is left deliberately vague—recounts the brutal details of an eating disorder, guiding us through a thorny labyrinth of contemptuous self-loathing (“Mother tries to choke me with roast beef”), twisted narcissism (“I want to be so pretty that I rot from view”), and ghostly metaphor (“Choice is skeletal in everybody’s life”). It culminates in the most beautiful, horrifying, and prophetic line Edwards ever wrote: “I want to walk in the snow and not leave a footprint.”

1994 was the year of The Downward Spiral, Live Through This, and Ready to Die, so it’s not like Edwards’s melancholy was without competition—or context. For kids coming of age in the early ’90s, the alt-rock paradox was that bands were glomming onto a genre that couldn’t choose between catharsis and agony and decided to conflate them. The melodrama inherent in Eddie Vedder’s every yelp wasn’t just commodified—it was aspirational.

It’s worth noting that in a market saturated with potent bad-mood enhancers, The Holy Bible’s methodology was one of stringent deglamorization; where the Manics had previously positioned themselves as sardonically heroic figures, here they worked with self-effacement to put the songs and their sentiments first. The one pop-flavored track, “This Is Yesterday,” has the buoyancy of early-’90s alt-rock (like something off of Smashing Pumpkins’ Siamese Dream), capturing, for three elusive and ecstatic minutes, a sensation of idealized nostalgia before the harsh, descending chords of “Die in the Summertime.” It’s gruesome, but also human-scaled: In a decade where R-rated Alice Cooper disciples like Rob Zombie and Marilyn Manson gleefully flashed their parental advisory stickers and successfully carnivalized and commodified darkness, Edwards’s songwriting opted for wrenching cinema verité over cartoonish horror show.

From its King James–baiting title on down, through its confrontational cover art (a triptych of a scantily clad obese woman) and meticuloysly designed liner notes (which included photos of abandoned concentration camps in sync with Holocaust-themed album tracks “Mausoleum” and “The Intense Humming of Evil”), The Holy Bible was a scandal waiting to happen. The Manics did their best to play the part of provocateurs, with Bradfield performing “Faster” on Top of the Pops clad in a paramilitary-style balaclava. It was album promotion as a form of guerrilla warfare. (The BBC got over 25,000 complaints via telephone.)

Critics raved the record to the skies, while consumers were more ambivalent: It reached no. 6 in the U.K. charts and claimed instant cult status. Two years later, the Manics would break through comercially with Everything Must Go, yoked to the stomping, magisterial “A Design for Life”—a song whose skyscraping chorus would make even Noel Gallagher grit his teeth with envy. During their brief but spectacular commercial peak, the Manics-minus-Richey would tap a rich vein of populist emotion; The Holy Bible was more like a bundle of raw, exposed nerves.

In 2009, the Manics released Journal for Plague Lovers, an album whose selling point was that its songs were all written using posthumously published lyrics by Richey Edwards. Unsurprisingly, it remains their strongest 21st-century recording, purposefully evoking its predecessor without resorting to mere grave-robbing. After spending years mourning, quoting, excoriating, and exorcising their friend—with highly varied results—the Manics let him do the talking. “Once we actually got into the studio … it almost felt as if we were a full band,” Bradfield said in 2009. “It [was] as close to him being in the room again as possible.”

Masterpieces don’t need sequels—spiritual or otherwise—but Journal for Plague Lovers honored its heritage and reenergized a group who’d been verging on self-parody.

“I think that if a Holy Bible is true, it should be about the way the world is,” Edwards told a Swedish television station in 1994. “That’s what I think my lyrics are about … [the album] doesn’t pretend things don’t exist.” It’s that simultaneously abrasive and fragile quality—an escape from escapism, a denial of denial—that still rings out on every track. In a moment when the vast majority of rock music has deliberately evacuated any pretense of seriousness or larger meaning, The Holy Bible seems like an ancient relic: a towering monument to displeasure. It is hard to say, exactly, who an album like this for. But it is undoubtedly, for real”.

On 29th August – though some sites and sources say 30th August -, Manic Street Preachers’ The Holy Bible turns thirty. It is one of the biggest albums of the 1990s. After its release, everything changed for the group. Losing Richey Edwards in 1995, they would have to regroup and reframe on 1996’s Everything Must Go. To many, The Holy Bible remains the best work from them. It is hard to argue against that. You only need to listen to it once to be pulled into its world. It is a truly…

UNFORGETTABLE listening experience.

FEATURE: “I Was There!” Before the Dawn at Ten: The Excitement Around Kate Bush’s Return to the Stage

FEATURE:

 

 

“I Was There!”

PHOTO CREDIT: Trevor Leighton

Before the Dawn at Ten: The Excitement Around Kate Bush’s Return to the Stage

_________

MOST Kate Bush fans remember where they were…

PHOTO CREDIT: Ken McKay/REX

when she announced that there would be a new residency, Before the Dawn. Originally intended as a fifteen-date residency, because of demand, that then expanded to twenty-two nights. I shall come to the tension and atmosphere that was building outside the Eventim Apollo for that first night on 26th August, 2014. The contrast between what was happening outside the venue and backstage on that opening night. The sort of people who mixed together to welcome Kate Bush back to the stage. One reason why we were rocked by the announcement on 21st March, 2014, was that there had been little word from her about it. If you think about the few years before that, nobody was expecting a residency or any live work. Kate Bush put out two albums in 2011. Director’s Cut arrived in May. 50 Words for Snow came out in November. Apart from Running Up That Hill (A Deal with God) being remixed in 2012, there was not a lot of activity. Also in 2012, Bush made her first public appearance after a decade as she accepted the South Bank Sky Arts Award in the Pop category for 50 Words for Snow. Tickets for Before the Dawn sold out in fifteen minutes. There were pre-sale tickets that were available to fans who signed up to her website. After such a surge in demand, seven extra dates were added. There was this explosion of interest and a rush to get tickets. The ticket actually went on sale on 28th March. One of the most exciting things that has happened in her career. In the sense there was already this anticipation and curiosity. I love how the announcement made us feel. A complete shock! Thirty-five years after The Tour of Life, Kate Bush was back in terms of large-scale live work. There was a mixed blessing with it being a residency rather than a tour.

The fact that she performed in Hammersmith and did not need to travel meant there was more energy for the performance. Not having to move around. She liked 1979’s The Tour of Life, though it was exhausting. So much travel and energy need to keep the show moving. Now, near her home, she could enjoy herself a bit more by not having to worry about logistics and transportation. Though, ‘enjoy’ might not be the right word when it came to Before the Dawn. Bush revealed to Matt Everitt in a 2016 interview – when discussing the live album of Before the Dawn -, how she was terrified each time going on. It was not really until the end of the final show (1st October, 2014) when she could relax. One of the downsides about staying in London was that so many fans could not attend. Being based around the world, the cost and commitment of coming to see her perform was too high. Even though a lot of international fans attended, many couldn’t make that sacrifice. Also, as tickets sold out in fifteen minutes, it meant that those not fast enough missed out. So many people (me included) regretting the fact that there were no tickets left! Prior to that first night on 26th August, 2014, there was speculation what Before the Dawn would consist of. Most people interested in the potential setlist. As it was called Before the Dawn, many figured that Aerial’s A Sky of Honey could feature.

That is a song cycle about an entire summer’s day. She did perform the sublime and epic A Sky of Honey and Hounds of Love’s The Ninth Wave. I remember press trying to uncover what might be included. In The Guardian’s review of the opening night of Before the Dawn, they discussed the fact that not a lot was leaked or known before that first night:

“There have been a lot of improbable returns to the stage by mythic artists over the last few years, from Led Zeppelin to Leonard Cohen, but at least the crowd who bought tickets to see them knew roughly what songs to expect. Tonight, almost uniquely in rock history, the vast majority of the audience has virtually no idea what's going to happen before it does.

The solitary information that has leaked out from rehearsals is that Bush will perform The Ninth Wave, her 1985 song cycle about a woman drowning at sea – which indeed she does, replete with staging of a complexity that hasn't been seen during a rock gig since Pink Floyd's heyday – and that she isn't terribly keen on people filming the show on their phones.

The rest is pure speculation, of varying degrees of madness. A rumour suggests that puppets will be involved, hence the aforementioned mannequin, manipulated by a man in black and regularly hugged by Bush during her performance of another song cycle, A Sky of Honey, from 2005's Aerial.

The satirical website the Daily Mash claimed that, at the gig's conclusion, Bush would "lead the audience out of the venue, along the fairy-tale Hammersmith Flyover and finally to a mountain where they would be sealed inside, listening to Hounds of Love for all eternity”.

I shall get to the atmosphere that must have been building in Hammersmith on 26th August, 2014. I love how Peter Gabriel almost gave the game away! As Graeme Thomson notes in his book, Under the Ivy: The Life and Music of Kate Bush, in 2000, Gabriel revealed to the world that Kate Bush had a new son. That was not public information. It soon was! I can imagine that his old friend gave him a call and perhaps gave him a stern warning! So trustful and forgiving, Kate Bush must have made it known to Peter Gabriel that she was working on Before the Dawn. Gabriel spoke to Graeme Thomson on 26th February, 2014 and said how the and Bush did not really talk that much. Some cards exchanged and the odd bit. Intriguingly, he did say that her period of quiet might be interrupted soon as she has been working on something. Knowing what that meant (I assume), he almost gave everything a month before Kate Bush announced Before the Dawn! Few expected something new. Going back to my earlier thread, in fact, it was a Kate Bush re-recording of Running Up That Hill (A Deal with God) that featured at the London Olympics in 2012. I guess it is technically a remix as the vocal was new but there was an edit and rejig of the song. A blend of the new and existing. In any case, in March 2013, Bush asked her young son Bertie whether she should go back on the stage. He encouraged her. Kate Bush was keen to connect with an audience after recording and being away from the stage for so long. Among her collaborators and choice of people, she invited Adrian Noble (former creative director of the Royal Shakespeare Company) to co-direct. Author David Mitchell was asked to help write dialogue that would sew together The Ninth Wave. The two hit it off right away.

I am wandering slightly, though I will end with that first night and moments before doors opened. Bush and Mitchell were a dream team. With Mitchell more of a sounding board – as Graeme Thomson writes in his biography of Kate Bush -, drafts would be changed and worked up. It was part of an incredible eighteen months of preparation. Credit to the KT Fellowship rather than Kate Bush, this was a troupe and group effort. Actors and singers were auditioned without being aware of what it was for. There was so much secrecy around Before the Dawn. That collective bond made Before the Dawn such a familial and spiritual thing. I love how the rehearsals were quite low-key. Bush rehearsed in an old school building. It was similar to the atmosphere and dynamic of The Tour of Life rehearsals. Smaller spaces and buildings. Intimacy and focus. Different departments and people would work in different rooms. Whether that was an office or gymnasium. That school environment was one of discipline and respect. Those working with Bush asked not to talk about what they were working on. The same obsessiveness and attention to detail that Bush displayed during The Tour of Life’s preparation – from set designs and costumes and everything else – went into Before the Dawn. Making sure the tickets and programmes were as beautiful, inviting and detailed as possible. The lack of PR and hype from Kate Bush is not something other major artists would do. Making sure that the announcement would be a surprise and no insights and secrets would be given out.

PHOTO CREDIT: Ken McKay/Rex

The press reacted with archive pieces, features, hagiography, song rankings and everything Kate Bush-related! A flurry of interest and column inches that ranged from the interesting to filler and recycled. Even so, one cannot deny that Kate Bush had taken people by surprise and dropped a beautiful and life-changing bomb! The same sexist and ageist criticism that Madonna faced prior to her recent Celebration Tour was applied to Kate Bush in 2014. Many asking whether a woman in her fifties could pull off such a physical feat. In the next feature about Before the Dawn, I shall talk about some of the celebrities in attendance. The BBC commissioned a documentary, The Kate Bush Story: Running Up That Hill, which I shall dissect in another feature. It is not great…though it was a useful accompaniment and addition to all the writing and discussion about Kate Bush around her new stage venture. Bush herself was eager for people not to take photos and videos. Asking people not to use their phones or tablets, most observed her request. It was quite strict when people got inside the venue. One of the first artists to ask audiences not to photo or film her shows, this approach has been taken up by so many artists. From Jack White to Adele, Beyoncé and Prince, many legends have adopted this policy. Recently, Bob Dylan announced that he would ask people to switch off their phones when he arrives in the U.K. later in the year for a series of dates. It provoked retaliation from Damon Albarn (who seems to be annoyed by everything these days!).

Even if many artists don’t mind phones at their gigs, it does distract audiences and the performer. Crappy videos get leaked - and it is all intrusive and unnecessary! People watching phones rather than the gig! Kate Bush (and all others) was right to ban phones. She wanted people to be there in the moment and not feel the insane need to document everything and, in the process, annoy others and waste a ticket price not engaging with the show. With about 16 degrees centigrade showing on the thermometer and there being about 78% humidity, on a drizzly afternoon (but a drier night) on a Tuesday, people lined up excitedly outside the Eventim Appollo in Hammersmith. A historic night on 26th August, 2014, inside the venue, Kate Bush would have been backstage nervously pondering. After such hard work, secrecy and passionate input, this was it! People outside already excitedly saying how pleased they were to be there. The day after, they would take to social media to proclaim: “I was there!”. Little did they know they would witness one of the greatest live performances of the century. Drama, beauty, theatrics and a note-perfect star, I can only imagine the contrasting thoughts in the minds of the thousands of fans…and Kate Bush. The pressure and expectation on her shoulders. As she was in her first costume and getting her in-ear microphones fitted (the first time she had used them; it meant she could move around stage and hear the other musicians clearly). Last-minute checks and chats about the show.

Kate Bush knew she would come on to Lily. After that, it was a case of ensuring that each song was delivered as tightly and professionally as possible. Having not experienced a crowd as excitable and expectant since the last date of The Tour of Life – 14th May, 1979 at the then-named Hammersmith Odeon (Eventim Apollo) -, this was a big moment. The audience that packed in to the venue came from all corners and walks of life. The critical reactions were ecstatic! Bush was perhaps too nervous and focused to realise the impact her performance was having. How everything came together. Having imagined how her ideas would form and be executed, the rapturous reaction that first-night audience gave her on 26th August, 2014 made it clear that her hard work, secrecy and incredible vision had paid off! What was realised nearly ten years ago was a rare but always-stunning live performer showing that she had not missed a beat. Few artists could take thirty-five years away form major performance and nail it! Before rounding off, NME reacted to the first night of the phenomenal Before the Dawn:

“Outside the venue, there is a sense of celebration and heightened anticipation. I’m experiencing the same fizzing anxiety I had when trying to buy a ticket to one of the shows. Lots of people I speak to say they’re feeling “nervous.” There are costumes, t-shirts of Bush from all eras and lots and lots of velvet. Like many of the fans congregating on this drizzly, grey August day, Kate Bush changed my life. It feels good to be part of a tribe; I’m wearing a maroon velvet dress like the one in ‘The Sensual World’ and have a makeshift Kate Bush symbol tattoo on my hand. Some, though, have gone to a huge amount of time and effort to show their appreciation. I speak to a few punters outside the Apollo.

Chad, Los Angeles: “It cost me thousands of dollars in total to get here from the US but it’s totally worth it because Kate is an artist who puts her work and her relationship with her fans above commerce, above making money. That’s why she takes a long time to make an album because she cares so much about the outcome and that means more to her fans than anything.”

Ben: “We were lucky because Cloud (pictured above) got a pre-sale code as she’s been a fan for a long time but while I was trying to get the tickets she was having a fit. I’ve never seen someone so possessed, literally holding on to the walls, crying to the Lord. Every time I clicked, she screamed. It was very intense. But we got them!”

Emerson, San Francisco: “I’m a perfumer so I actually see Kate as all these layers to build this ultimate perfume, so I’m here just to be in awe of her.”

Andrea, Brooklyn: “I said to my friends that if I die after tonight then everything should feel totally OK with it. Everything else is a bonus from here on out.”

Stuart: “She’s an artist that stayed true to her self. She’s never followed fashion, she’s followed her art. I saw her in 1979 which was fabulous.”

Inside the venue, there’s tension in the air around the merchandise stall which features pendants, a first aid kit (all becomes clear later on), fish masks and the usual t-shirts, mugs and posters. People queue up for over an hour worried that they’ll miss out.

The programme is snazzy as hell and written at length by Bush herself with all sorts of interesting detail. It smells like it has real oil paint on it.

Act I

The show can be split into four parts, starting with a traditional beginning, which almost acted like a trick false start. Bush, all in black with a fringed cape-cardigan, bare foot and hair long to her lower back, stood before an impressive seven-piece band featuring two extensive drums kits with various percussion: in the programme notes she says the two key people at the start of the project were the lightning designer and the drummer. She saw the drummer as the “heart” of the project.

The Gayatri prayer – an old Vedic mantra – opened ‘Lily’, a track from ‘The Red Shoes’. ‘Hounds of Love’, ‘Joanni’, ‘Top of the City’, ‘Never Be Mine’, ‘Running up that Hill’ and ‘King of the Mountain’ followed and thus ended the ‘hits’ section of the set. Her voice sounded exquisite and remained rich, powerful and controlled through the night.

She thanked Mark Henderson, the lightning designer, and her son Bertie McIntosh, who she said had been there for 18 months and ‘pushed the button’ for her to do the show. “It’s been an adventure and it’s only just beginning,” she beamed. Bertie provided vocals and acted in the part of the son and the painter later on. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

There is something about Bush’s vocal delivery that made me hear lyrics as if it were for the first time. They way she sang the “wind is whistling” during ‘King Of The Mountain’ imitated the wind whistling through the venue. Though I’ve heard the lyrics “snow and Rosebud” from the same song thousands of times before I’d never actually imagined the literal imagery. It was an enriching symptom of the show I hadn’t expected.

Act II

Just when we thought we were in for a greatest hits set – although it seemed unlikely that Bush would choose such a traditional template – everything turned completely upside down. Yes, the rumours were true. We were going to watch ‘The Ninth Wave’, the second suite to ‘Hounds Of Love’ (1985), a concept album about a “person who is alone in the water for the night.”

Confetti canons trumpeted the change of gear; yellow pieces of paper with a verse from Tennyson’s The Coming Of Arthur, the poem the ‘ninth wave’ phrase is from. Rumbling thunder and gathering crowds gave way to a film part with an astronomer reporting a phone call from a sinking ship.

Billowing silk sheets, towering spikes that gave the impression the stage was in the stomach of a whale, helicopter search lights, lasers and a drag-on living room were just a few of the surreal facets of stage design that told the story of a woman lost at sea, struggling to stay a live during her dark night of the soul, surrounded by Fish People – a reference to her record label – inept coastguards with tails and stunning music. A soliloquy about sausages sat alongside a moving scene of Bush’s character visiting her son and partner knowing that she might never see them again.

From the first few notes of ‘And Dream Of Sheep’, which saw Bush in the lifeboat ring you’ll recognise from the tour pictures, the audience sat stunned and with baited breath. This wasn’t music with theatre and a splice or two of film thrown in; somehow the team had balanced together the three elements to create something else and rewritten the rule book of live performance along the way. It was a reminder of how avant-garde she is.

Act III

The stage shifted so the band was far left and an enormous ceiling-high Moroccan-style door stood on the right out of which a puppeteer walked with jaw-droppingly impressive skills. The puppet would remain throughout the act embraced by Bush at times as if it might be a comfort to her to have it (him? Bertie?) there as a prop. It was impossible to gauge what could be next. And it was fittingly perfect: the whole second side of ‘Aerial’ (2005), ‘The Sky Of Honey’.

You could call this part the nature segment. The backdrop changed between stunning close-up footage of British birds such as geese, gulls, chaffinches, robins and blue tits flying with the motion of their wings seen in crystal-clear detail. Never has a pigeon looked so romantic. During ‘An Architect’s Dream’ a huge screen appeared with Bertie (16, pictured above) acting the part of the painter. The main background at times resembled the burnished painting by Russian artist Ivan Aivazovsky called The Ninth Wave.

It was during this point that Bush’s impeccable movement and skilled control, taught by Lindsay Kemp in the late 70s, shone through, though her dancing was – comparably to the tour 35 years ago – at a minimum. This kinetic effect was mesmeric, as was the visuals showing a vivid crimson sunset and hyper-realistic tawny moon spinning on its axis.

‘A Sky Of Honey’ is an elemental album filled with natural sounds, including Bush herself imitating bird song, and the visuals mirrored the music, with murmurations of starlings a particular highlight. The effect was pastoral, calming and warm although typically the fairy-tale had a dark undercurrent; at one point it looked as though the puppet was savaging a sea gull and a spatter of scarlet blood hit the screen. It had that feeling of the surreal moment between waking and dreaming. Towards the end Bush had a prosthetic winged arm in the Edward Scissorhands vein before being suspended in air and flown briefly in blackbird guise to enormous cheers. Again, the lyrics sounded completely different live. I’d never realised how beautiful and evocative the line “the stars are caught in our hair” from ‘Nocturn’ was.

Act IV

“Thank you so much for such a wonderful, warm and positive response,” said Bush before closing the show. As she sat at the piano, some might have assumed she’d break into an older classic such as ‘The Man With A Child in His Eyes’ or ‘This Woman’s Work’. Oh no. ‘Among Angels’ from ’50 Words For Snow’ was followed by a euphoric version of ‘Cloudbusting’.

After she left the stage, the crowd cheered and applauded for a good 10 minutes but there was no re-entrance. There was a sense that the audience were stunned as we filed out of the Apollo; there was just so much to digest and process.

It is no ordinary artist that can tackle life, death, synchronicity, identity, spiritual transformation, empathy and the chaos of relationships with idiosyncratic ease in the space of a few hours. Some may have wanted to hear more of the older hits – music from her first four albums, including ‘Wuthering Heights’ was eschewed – but there was no denying the vitality, creativity and huge amount of work and character that’s gone into the Before The Dawn tour. Though perhaps it surprised people when watching it, the show was perfectly ‘Kate’. In an interview with Simon Reynolds in the 90s, she made this comment, which rings true today”.

From major celebrities to new fans, everyone joined together in appreciation and love for Kate Bush! I am not sure whether there are going to be many tenth anniversary features or anything special closer to 26th August. There should be. No ordinary concert or live performance, this was seismic and epochal! As Kate Bush and the KT Bush Fellowship spilled backstage and breathed out, they knew that they had delivered something magical! After Kate Bush took out her in-ears and absorbed the air and atmosphere of the Eventim Apollo, her players and cast would have been excited and releived! In the Hammersmith summer air, fans made their way in all directions. Discussing what they had just seen. Disbelief and a state of bliss! That night, I doubt few would have been able to sleep or even wanted to! The volume, drama and epic-ness of that performance ringing in their ears and around their heads. They were recalling with smiles and breathlessness a live performance like no other that had happened only a matter of hours…

BEFORE the dawn.

FEATURE: A Perfect Shot in St John’s Wood: The Cover of The Beatles’ Abbey Road at Fifty-Five

FEATURE:

 

 

A Perfect Shot in St John’s Wood

PHOTO CREDIT: Iain Stewart Macmillan

The Cover of The Beatles’ Abbey Road at Fifty-Five

_________

THERE is a lot written about…

PHOTO CREDIT: Iain Stewart Macmillan

the cover of The Beatles’ Abbey Road. The final album they recorded, it was released on 26th September, 1969. On 8th August that year, the band shot the cover of the album. It is, in my view, the greatest album cover ever. So iconic and discussed. Many people reacting to conspiracy theories and supposed symbolism in the shot. This pure moment where we capture John Lennon, George Harrison, Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr outside EMI/Abbey Road Studios in St John’s Wood on a warm day. One of the great things about the Abbey Road cover is the sense of the still and mobile. There is movement from the band members, yet there is this feeling of stillness. Like someone has covertly captured the guys walking across a zebra crossing. I never thought it seemed too posed and planned – even though, of course, it was. There is a lot of detail in the shot from Iain Stewart Macmillan. I want to come to a few features about the iconic photoshoot. There are features that look at some of the theories about the images. The ‘Paul is dead’ theory. First, this feature from last year takes us inside a fabulous day in August 1969:

“On August 8, 1969, on a street in north-west London and almost directly outside a celebrated recording studio, one of the most famous ever album covers was shot.

Photographer Iain MacMillan took the image that would adorn the cover of the brilliant new record named after the street where he stood, Abbey Road. The zebra crossing, almost exactly in front of the studio where The Beatles had created the vast majority of their body of work, was about to become one of the most recognized sites in London.

Before the shoot began, MacMillan, a friend of John Lennon and Yoko Ono’s, had taken Paul McCartney’s initial sketch idea of the potential cover image and added detail of exactly how the famous quartet might look on the crossing. The street sign of Abbey Road that adorned the back cover of the album was taken by MacMillan on a junction with Alexandra Road that no longer exists.

PHOTO CREDIT: Iain Stewart Macmillan

Linda McCartney was also on hand to take some extra shots, before traffic was stopped by a solitary policeman and MacMillan got on his stepladder to take six images of the group crossing the road. Perhaps the four most famous men in the world walked crossed the road three times. McCartney took the lead in choosing the fifth of the transparencies to be used, partly because it was the only one that showed the group walking in exact time together. In 2012, one of the five outtakes sold at auction for £16,000.

What else did The Beatles do that day?

That afternoon, The Beatles and George Martin were inside Abbey Road, rather than outside, to resume work in a session for the upcoming album, recording “Ending,” which would become “The End.” The studio time was booked for 2.30pm, so as Mark Lewisohn reported in his Complete Beatles Recording Sessions, to kill time after the photo session, Paul took John back to his Cavendish Avenue house, George Harrison went with Mal Evans to London Zoo, and Ringo Starr went shopping. The Abbey Road album would be released seven weeks after the photo shoot, as The Beatles’ recording story came towards an end”.

Prior to moving on to features that deal with conspiracy theories and symbolic references in the cover shoot, American Songwriter highlighted an immortal photo. For a band who were known for their incredible album covers, Abbey Road stands out on top. It is a mesmerising image that will endure for generations to come. Maybe this feeling that they are striding away from Abbey Road and their lives together. Or they are confidently walking into the studio to record. There is that sense of importance about the photo by Iain Stewart Macmillan:

“Macmillan reportedly only had about 15 minutes to get the shot after The Beatles walked out onto Abbey Road. (The famous road was the location of EMI Studios, now Abbey Road Studios, where The Beatles recorded some of their music in Studio Two of the building.) The final photo was taken from up high on a stepladder.

Additionally, the album cover for Abbey Road remains the only original cover to completely omit the actual album title or band name. “I insisted we didn’t need to write the band’s name on the cover,” Kosh explained in a previous interview with BBC. “They were the most famous band in the world after all.”

What you might’ve missed

While the Abbey Road album artwork is immediately recognizable, there are a few details that might’ve evaded the average eye.

For one, did you notice that only McCartney is barefoot and out of step? Or that Harrison is the only Beatle donning a jean outfit instead of a Tommy Nutter-designed suit? Whether you did or not, the details are there, adding little intricacies to a photo that captured the personality and success of The Beatles.

Oh, and one more thing, the license plate on the white Volkswagen Beetle (LMW 281F)? It was repeatedly stolen after the album was released. Now, what kind of fan would do that? We would never dream of doing such a thing…”.

As whack and insane as conspiracy theorists are, they exist. For decades, they have been over-analysing events and spouting nonsense. Unfortunately, the cover to Abbey Road was not immune to crackpot theories. It is interesting to entertain them for the sake of this feature, as sadly, there were some who did believe Paul McCartney was dead. In fact, almost as much has been written about conspiracy theories around the cover shoot as a celebration of the shot and the beauty of it. This Biography feature from 2020 explores theories around the rumour McCartney had died:

“Ask your friends to name the biggest hoax of 1969 and you might hear the "Paul Is Dead" rumor. For much of the late 1960s, hearsay about the Beatles had been building up until the strange meme hit newspapers everywhere: that Paul McCartney fatally crashed his Aston Martin in 1966 and for years had been replaced by an impostor. Conspiracists based their claim on a car accident report involving one of McCartney’s cars. They also note years’ worth of clues found in song lyrics and on album covers ranging from Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band to the Magic Mystery Tour.

The speculation over McCartney’s demise was at an all-time high when the band’s Abbey Road album cover was later released in September 1969. For many, the cover may simply show the band harmlessly walking across London’s Abbey Road, but for some Beatlemaniacs, the imagery was a kooky dissertation in morbid symbolism. Was it a grand conspiracy or an elaborate marketing scheme? Here are eight symbols pointed out over the years in no particular order of truthiness:

It’s a funeral procession

That’s what theorists likened to the photo of the band crossing the North London Street. They point out that John Lennon’s white suit symbolized the color of mourning in some Eastern religions while Ringo Starr is donned the more traditional black. What they neglect to point out, however, is that George Harrison is wearing denim — the color of mourning in Canada.

McCartney's cigarette in his non-dominant hand

Paul held his cigarette in his right hand, even though he is a lefty.

McCartney’s feet are bare

Why? It’s a reminder, theorists say, that in some cultures the dead are buried without their shoes.

The license plate

In the background we see a Volkswagen Beetle with the plate "LMW 28IF" Conspiracists claim this to mean that McCartney would be 28 if he were alive. (Nevermind the fact that he would actually have been 27 if the rumor were true.)

The police van

Parked on the side of the road is a black police van, which is said to symbolize authorities who kept silent about McCartney's fatal fender-bender.

The girl in the blue dress

On the night of McCartney’s supposed car accident, he was believed to have been driving with a fan named Rita. Theorists say the girl in the dress featured on the back cover was meant to be her, fleeing from the car crash.

Connect the dots

Also on the back cover are a series of dots. Join some of them together and you can make the number three — the number of surviving Beatles.

Broken Beatles sign

On the back cover, we see the band’s name written in tiles on a wall and there’s a crack running through it. Of all the symbols, this one turned out to be the most meaningful, and sad. Although the release of Abbey Road was followed with ample evidence that McCartney was alive and well, what the public didn’t know was that the Beatles had secretly broken up. Abbey Road would be the band’s penultimate studio album, and the group would call it quits only a year later”.

I am going to end with a Classic Rock. Although it was a magical day in North London in 1969, instead of there being this unanimous celebration of the cover photo for Abbey Road, many espoused macabre theories. It is a shame that it almost overshadows all the brilliance of the photo. How eye-catching and sense-altering it is:

“In keeping with the pencil sketch that Paul McCartney had given to photographer Iain Macmillan, the cover of The Beatles' classic Abbey Road simply shows the four musicians walking across the zebra crossing outside Abbey Road Studios in North London.

The famous cover shot was one of six taken by Macmillan at 10am on August 8, 1969. As a policeman held up the traffic, the photographer had just 10 minutes to balance on a stepladder and get the shots. The result was striking and iconic. But few could have imagined the reaction it got.

Shortly before the release of the Abbey Road album, an American newspaper ran a story that claimed Paul McCartney had died in a car accident in 1966, and that the current ‘Paul’ was actually a lookalike called William Campbell. The rumours gathered pace and when Abbey Road arrived that October, its sleeve was pronounced by conspiracy theorists as final proof of Macca’s demise.

Inevitably, the ‘clues’ were somewhat tenuous, McCartney was out of step with his bandmates; his eyes were closed, and he wasn’t wearing shoes (like a buried body); he held a cigarette in his right hand (despite being left-handed); over his shoulder was a Volkswagen with a number plate interpreted as ‘28IF’ (ie McCartney would have been 28 if he lived; although actually he would have been 27).

The order in which the four Beatles were arranged was also deemed significant. John Lennon, bearded and dressed in white, represented Jesus. Ringo Starr, in a sober black suit, was the undertaker. George Harrison’s jeans and denim shirt made him the gravedigger.

Of course, McCartney has always dismissed these clues as nonsense. “We were wearing ordinary clothes,” he once protested. “I was barefoot because it was a hot day. The Volkswagen just happened to be there.”

McCartney’s supposed ‘death’ is old news these days, of course, but the Abbey Road sleeve continues to make headlines. In 2003, US poster companies sparked controversy by air-brushing Macca’s cigarette out of the image”.

On 8th August, it will be fifty-five years since that remarkable photograph by Iain Stewart Macmillan was taken. I love the outtakes of it. What was actually captured and used for Abbey Road is the greatest album cover ever. So brilliant and timeless in its seeming simplicity. I hope that the anniversary will compel people not only to discover more about the album cover shoot for Abbey Road. Also listen to the album itself. Perhaps the greatest album from The Beatles, it has a fittingly outstanding cover. Although some would argue against the fact it is the best album cover ever, to me it will…

ALWAYS be the best.

FEATURE: Cover Versions: Is It Possible for Modern Artists to Equal the Greatest Album Art Ever?

FEATURE:

 

 

Cover Versions

Is It Possible for Modern Artists to Equal the Greatest Album Art Ever?

_________

IT is interesting debating…

whether the album cover is regarded as highly now as it was years ago. Last week, Rolling Stone published a feature where they ranked the one hundred greatest album covers ever. There were some surprises in the pack. Aside from the fact that kicking off the one hundred was Spinal Tap, there were some notable omissions. Kate Bush’s Hounds of Love not making the list. Also, in terms of the top ten, Joy Division’s Unknown Pleasures was at one. The Beatles’ Abbey Road, which I think is the best album cover ever, was at two. Usual suspects like Pink Floyd’s The Dark Side of the Moon and The Clash’s London Calling were in the top ten. An unexpected but worthy addition, Cyndi Lauper’s She’s So Unusual, was in there. It raised debate as to what people were looking for when it comes to a classic album cover:

“THE ALBUM IS the best invention of the past century, hands down — but the music isn’t the whole story. The album cover has been a cultural obsession as long as albums have. Ever since 12-inch vinyl records took off in the 1950s, packaged in cardboard sleeves, musicians have been fascinated by the art that goes on those covers, and so have fans. When the Beatles revolutionized the game with the cover of Sgt. Pepper, in 1967, it became a way to make a visual statement about where the music comes from and why it matters. But the art of the album cover just keeps evolving.

So this is our massive celebration of that art: the 100 best album covers ever, from Biggie to Beyoncé to Bad Bunny, from Nirvana to Nas to Neil Young, from SZA to Sabbath to the Sex Pistols. We’ve got rap, country, jazz, prog, metal, reggae, flamenco, funk, goth, hippie psychedelia, hardcore punk. But all these albums have a unique look to go with the sound. The most unforgettable covers become part of the music — how many Pink Floyd fans have gotten their minds blown staring at the prism on the cover of Dark Side of the Moon, after using it to roll up their smoking materials?

What makes an album cover a classic? Sometimes it’s a portrait of the artist — think of the Beatles crossing the street, or Carole King in Laurel Canyon with her cat. Others go for iconic, semi-abstract images, like Led Zeppelin, Miles Davis, or My Bloody Valentine. Some artists make a statement about where they’re from, whether it’s R.E.M. repping the South with kudzu or Ol’ Dirty Bastard flashing his food-stamps card to salute the Brooklyn Zoo.

Many of these covers come from legendary photographers, designers, and artists, like Andy Warhol, Annie Leibovitz, Storm Thorgerson, Raymond Pettibon, and Peter Saville. Some have cosmic symbolism for fans to decode; others go for star power. But they’re all classic images that have become a crucial part of music history. And they all show why there’s no end to the world’s long-running love affair with albums”.

I am going to discuss The Beatles’ Abbey Road cover, as it turns fifty-five on 8th August. What I notice about the top twenty from Rolling Stone’s list is the 1970s is the most prolific decade. The 1990s not too far behind. Not too much from the 1980s. I was surprised that Madonna’s Like a Prayer cover was not in the top twenty. What I did notice is that only two albums from the past twenty years made the top twenty – Beyoncé’s Lemonade from 2016 at fifteen; Kendrick Lamar’s 2015 release, To Pimp a Butterfly, at twelve. Two albums released within a year of each other. Nothing from the past nine years. Look right up the top fifty, and only four other albums from the past twenty years join Lemonade and To Pimp a Butterfly. The most recent entry is SZA’s SOS (2022). That was ranked twenty-sixth. In terms of the best-ranked album covers, most of the inclusions are from albums that have been in other lists. Nirvana’s Nevermind at ten. An album cover often included in the top five. I wonder whether it is the quality of the album that dictates how we feel about a cover. If the songs seem to match the cover and there is this connection, people are more attached to the artwork. Few albums with striking covers and poor songs are deemed a classic when it comes to the artwork. Most of the albums with lauded covers have amazing music within. Is it possible to love an album cover for an album that is a disappointment? What is clear that albums that many of us grew up with and we fell in love with their covers are still hugely regarded. The passing of time has done nothing to diminish their appeal and power. It’s the same as human attraction. You can have all these emotions and feelings seeing someone you see as beautiful. That intensity grows when you learn more about them. That first impression and look is vital. It can rule the heart and change your life. I think that way about albums. If there is a cover that does not catch the eye and heart, I am less compelled to check out the album. If I do, then I often feel that there is a missed opportunity regarding making a better cover.

Whilst we might see a smattering of album covers from the twenty-first century in the highest positions, the biggest takeaway is the majority of the album covers from Rolling Stone’s list are from the past century. Most actually from more than thirty years ago. One could argue that this is subjective. All rankings are subjective. They only express the opinions of a very small selection of people. However, there is some universal truth. I am not sure whether most people, if asked, would have a personal top twenty where recent album covers were featured. I can think of a few albums from the twenty-first century that would be in mind. Alongside Amy Winehouse’s Frank (2003) would be Lorde’s Melodrama (2017) – that did make the top one hundred. There have been some great album covers from this century. If you look at Billboard’s top one hundred album covers from last year, there is a lot of crossover with Rolling Stone. Not that many modern examples making the top twenty. One could say that the streaming age means that there is less emphasis on album covers. That the artwork would be ignored. Others might say that there is such a saturation of albums now that many classics are being missed. Is there generational bias. Writers who grew up with classic albums more likely to love their covers rather than modern examples?! I there is some truth to all those statements. Many artists still put a lot of thought into album art. Pride themselves on how important that is. However, more and more, there are lacklustre covers when, in the modern age, there is this need to create something that could rank alongside the absolute best ever.

I think it is possible, in the next decade, we will see cases of covers that can challenge some of the all-time best. Maybe not as iconic as anything from The Beatles. Even so, there is this notable lack of modern album covers in ranking lists. Maybe visuals are less prominent and important. Music videos not seen as much as decades ago. There was a lot of emphasis on album covers at a time when we didn’t have the Internet. No option to post videos or edit photos like we can now. Fewer promotional avenues. Now, artists use TikTok, Instagram and have different ways of marketing an album. The rise in vinyl, I hope, leads to artists re-prioritising album covers. Major artists who can sell millions of units should not sit back and let the hype and their name do all the world. Many albums are going to be kept for decades to come. So many of the albums I grew up around stick in the mind because of their covers. Such vivid memories of discovering them. There are features that give tips about what makes an effective album cover. It is harder to stand out because of the quantity of albums coming out. The music industry has become more about visuals and images. If artists are posting photos all the time, how easy is it to have an album cover that stands out?! Some might say who really cares whether an album cover is great. So long as the music is brilliant. I would argue against that. Many people buy an album on the strength of a cover. Others will pass an album down through the generations because of the image. A truly moving album cover tells a story or gives you an indication of what the album’s story and intention is. A boring or unambitious cover can be jarring and also mean an album passes some by. Now more than ever, there is a need for the rise of the album cover. Artists really pushing themselves. As Rolling Stone’s top one hundred shows, most of the very best are from decades past. We really need to reverse this and show that, today, artists still value…

THE art of the album cover.

FEATURE: Oasis’ Definitely Maybe at Thirty: Inside the Epic Live Forever

FEATURE:

 

 

Oasis’ Definitely Maybe at Thirty

Inside the Epic Live Forever

_________

I am looking ahead…

to 29th August. That is when Oasis’ amazing debut, Definitely Maybe, turns thirty. There are some anniversary editions that you can buy. A white marble two-L.P. edition is well worth having. There is also more options here. It is going to be exciting to mark one of the most important albums of the 1990s. One that launched Oasis to the rest of the world. I have already written about Definitely Maybe. I am going to cover it again before 29th August. I wanted to use this opportunity to spotlight the most acclaimed and loved songs from the album: the sublime and epic Live Forever. Often cited as the greatest Oasis song ever, it is the third track on Definitely Maybe. I often wonder why it was not chosen as the closing track. It would have been a perfect way to end. The ending track of Definitely Maybe is Married with Children. There are some interesting and insightful features that talk about the story behind Live Forever. How it was this response to the downbeat and often depressive music coming from U.S. Grunge. American Songwriter looked inside the classic Oasis song earlier in the year:

“Noel Gallagher wrote “Live Forever” as a response to the negative and depressing messages of grunge music, which had come to dominate rock music stations and label rosters in the early ‘90s. Gallagher singled out Nirvana’s “I Hate Myself and Want to Die” as a song that particularly motivated him to put a more positive message out into the world. Specifically, Gallagher said, “I can’t have people like [Kurt Cobain] coming over here, on smack, f—ing saying that they hate themselves and they wanna die. That’s f—ing rubbish. Kids don’t need to be hearing that nonsense.”

With “Live Forever,” Gallagher wanted to express his gratitude for getting to have another day to be alive. In the song’s verse (which is repeated three times throughout the song), Gallagher emphasizes how he is focused on the possibility of each day, rather than worrying about other people’s affairs. And then he goes on to articulate that he can find beauty anywhere, even in things that can be painful.

Maybe I don’t really wanna know
How your garden grows
‘Cause I just wanna fly

Lately, did you ever feel the pain
In the morning rain
As it soaks you to the bone

In the choruses, Gallagher continues to espouse his positive outlook. In the second chorus, he asserts that there are reasons to be happy, even if we don’t get what we want. Having life turn out differently than what we hoped for just gives us a reason to be curious about how things actually did turn out.

Maybe I will never be
All the things I wanna be
Now is not the time to cry
Now’s the time to find out why

One part of Gallagher’s message is open to interpretation. He finishes up the second chorus with I think you’re the same as me / We see things they’ll never see / You and I are gonna live forever. Given that Cobain was a major inspiration for Gallagher’s lyrics, one has to wonder if this was a direct appeal to the Nirvana frontman—for him to understand that he, too, could find joy and wonder in life.

Even though Gallagher took issue with Cobain’s lyrics and song titles, he was a fan. And if these lines were directed at him, then the Oasis guitarist is saying he feels a kinship with his fellow rock star. Then again, Gallagher could have been speaking to grunge musicians—or any musicians—in general and encouraging them to appreciate what they have. Or maybe he was addressing all of us.

Nirvana was not the only band that influenced Gallagher when he was writing “Live Forever.” The melody that begins the verses was adapted from The Rolling Stones’ “Shine a Light.” Specifically, Gallagher borrowed the melody that Mick Jagger sings for the line “May the good Lord shine a light on you.” He eventually developed it into the slightly different melody his brother Liam sings: “Maybe I don’t really want to know.”

The Impact of “Live Forever,” Which Started It All

If not for “Live Forever,” Oasis may not have ever existed in the form that we have come to know. Noel Gallagher was the last member of the Definitely Maybe lineup of Oasis to join the band, and it was “Live Forever” that convinced the existing members to accept Gallagher as a member and as their songwriter.

“Live Forever” was the first Oasis song to place on Billboard’s Radio Songs chart, peaking at No. 39. It also reached No. 2 on their Alternative Airplay chart and No. 10 on their Mainstream Rock chart. It was the first Oasis single to place in the Top 10 of the UK Singles Chart, as well. Definitely Maybe, then, would peak at No. 58 on the Billboard 200 and No. 1 on the UK Official Albums Chart.

Oasis would go on to have even greater commercial success with their follow-up album, (What’s the Story) Morning Glory?, and their Top 10 single “Wonderwall.” Sometimes, songs don’t get enough credit for the role they play in catapulting an artist into the public’s consciousness. “Live Forever” certainly played that role for Oasis, and it bears some of the responsibility for the mammoth success of “Wonderwall.” It remains one of Oasis’ most popular songs in its own right”.

Released as a single on 8th August, 1994, it is a perfect opportunity to celebrate Live Forever. Thirty years after its release, this amazing and stirring anthem is still inspiring people. Its messages might have fitted more into the political and music scene of 1994. Its optimism against the backdrop of today might seem jarring or ineffective. I want to come to this feature, and their insight of Definitely Maybe’s standout track:

“The melody is inspired by Shine A Light by The Rolling Stones. The song can be found Exile on Main St. and is, most likely, written in reference to Brian Jones’ struggles. Noel drew inspiration from the chorus part: “May The good Lord Shine A Light on You.”

Allegedly, Noel Gallagher composed parts of the song using John Squire’s Gretsch G6122. The Stone Roses guitarist. Producer Mark Coyle was a roadie for The Stone Roses and lent the guitar to Gallagher.

The songwriter later told Q Magazine that he was convinced he’d written a classic from the time that the song was finished. Noel Gallagher presented a fully composed Live Forever to the band for the first time in early 1993 during rehearsals. The band was in awe of it. Guitarist Paul “Bonehead” Arthurs reportedly confronted Gallagher about the song being an original composition. “Maybe I just wanna fly” remains one of the most enduring phrases in pop music.

Oasis reaching the musical mainstream

Noel Gallagher later said that writing Live Forever finally gave him a life goal. The group would soon achieve great commercial and critical success. Oasis, particularly brothers Liam and Noel, would earn a reputation for their confidence and outspokenness.

Part of the iconic music video was shot in New York’s Central Park. The cover of the CD single shows John Lennon’s childhood home, 251 Menlove Avenue. It was bought by Yoko Ono who donated it to the National Trust.

The song has had an enduring legacy. In a poll conducted on Oasis’s official website, this song was voted Oasis’s best song. Also, in Q magazine, in October 2008, Liam Gallagher stated that this song is his favorite Oasis song. In a 2018 Radio X poll, Live Forever was voted as the best British song of all time. To claim the title, Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody, and Oasis’ won Don’t Look Back In Anger were beaten by this epic track.

It was a time when Gallagher could seemingly do no wrong. Non-albums singles like Acquiesce or Whatever would chart highly. The band was playing Britain’s biggest arenas. And, even Oasis bootlegs of the brothers’ bickering, could elicit the public’s attention. The rise and fall of Britpop, maybe, can be charted through the Manchester group’s evolution.

And, its writer, Noel Gallagher has not yet tired of hearing the song. In 2011 he talked about how the song measures up to music’s greatest compositions”.

Before finishing up, I want to come to a feature from PASTE. It is interesting reading about how Live Forever has changed people’s lives. Rather than writing about the song in terms of its chart success – it reached ten in the U.K. and was a success in the U.S. -, people talk about how it personally affected them. Such is the power and depth of Live Forever. For me, at the age of eleven, it was a big moment. I had not really heard anything like it. A moment of uplift in a music scene that was lacking this sort of pomp and optimism:

“For me, one of those songs was Oasis’ “Live Forever.” Though I didn’t hear the song when it came out on August 8, 1994 (I would’ve been -2 years old), when I encountered it in my early teens, it was a much-needed lightbulb moment. I hadn’t yet developed my passion for music at the time. I was mostly listening to what everyone else my age was listening to, which at the time, meant whatever T-Pain or Sean Kingston song happened to be popular for that month.

After stumbling on the band’s music videos on YouTube, I quickly became obsessed. I didn’t come from a family that was interested in music. I’d love to say that my parents played original Beatles, Stones and Coltrane records around the house or even that I raided my sibling’s collection of Paramore and My Chemical Romance CDs, but I can’t. All the music that I became enthralled by in my teenage years was stuff that I had dug up on my computer in solitude.

As a teen, my perception of rock music was that it only consisted of two categories: classic rock like The Beatles, Bruce Springsteen or AC/DC and whatever angsty bands were popular in the 2000s like Green Day, Panic at the Disco or Blink-182. Though I’ve since come to appreciate those two styles of rock, I had no connection to them as a teen. Classic rock was just music that boring parents listened to, and the whole pop-punk and emo thing wasn’t for me. Growing up in Ohio in the ’00s, I soon realized that most people in the states were much more interested in albums like American Idiot than an English band like Oasis who most considered past their prime.

I hadn’t heard a band like Oasis before. Liam Gallagher’s voice was gritty and rough but not so much that he couldn’t carry a beautiful, moving melody. People compared his voice to a mix between John Lydon and John Lennon and I always loved that idea of his edgy-meets-emotional vocal style. The band dressed in denim, sunglasses, button-down shirts and fancy parkas and jackets. They didn’t have ripped jeans. They weren’t dressed in all black with crazy hair or piercings. They looked cool but relatable, and even though tons of British people dressed just like them, to me, it was as if they had been transported from Mars.

“Live Forever” was the third single that the band released from their 1994 debut album, Definitely Maybe. For me, the song partially symbolized my disillusionment with a lot of the pop-punk that was coming out at the time, much of the same way that it represented the split between American grunge and Britpop in the ’90s. Like pop-punk, grunge often felt angsty to the point of self-destruction while Britpop was charming and uplifting. By 1993, Nirvana had become worldwide sensations and they released a track called “I Hate Myself and I Wanna Die.” I never was drawn in by these kind of lyrics as a kid, even if I really did hate myself and want to die. I had low self-esteem and no sense of self, but I thought if I listened to lyrics like that, it would just make those feelings more real. Instead of facing those feelings head on, I wanted to fast-forward past those dark thoughts to a time where I was happy and sure of myself. Britpop, Oasis and “Live Forever” were the antithesis of this kind of tortured rock star that was mythologized in other genres.

When I heard Liam Gallagher sing lines like “Maybe you’re the same as me/ We see things they’ll never see/ You and I are gonna live forever,” it was motivating and empowering. Despite the band’s constant fighting between brothers Liam and Noel, they were the last band to sulk or feel sorry for themselves. Their unshakeable self-confidence (or arrogance) was exhilarating, and it was everything I needed to hear as a shy teen. The song continues with the idea that all you had to do was dust yourself off and you could take over the world: “Maybe I will never be all the things that I want to be/ But now is not the time to cry/ Now’s the time to find out why.”

It was one of those songs you could listen to and strut down the street with your head held high and your chest puffed out. Even though I probably looked like an idiot, I felt like I had the whole world in the palm of my hands. When Noel Gallagher’s first melancholy guitar solo hits, it cries out like a siren and makes you remember that things aren’t always so happy-go-lucky, but when Liam’s vocals return, everything is okay again, and you’re back on cloud nine.

One of the reasons the song is so encouraging and believable without being preachy or cheesy is because of the Oasis brothers’ story. The Gallaghers came from a poor family in working-class Manchester, born to Irish immigrants and the sons of an abusive, alcoholic father. If two poor, foul-mouthed boys from Manchester could take over the UK and the rest of the world with their music after a meteoric rise, why couldn’t I at least have some confidence in myself that I could be somebody and achieve something great if I worked hard? Oasis were one of the first bands I loved and without them, I’m not sure where I would be right now”.

On 29th August, Oasis’ Definitely Maybe turns thirty. Before that, on 8th August, the album’s third single turns thirty. It was released after Supersonic and Shakemaker, I think this was the biggest release from Definitely Maybe. Still regarded as their creative peak. I hope that it gets plenty of radioplay on its thirtieth anniversary. I am going to end with the acclaim and critical reaction to Live Forever:

“While Oasis' first two singles, "Supersonic" and "Shakermaker", were modestly received, it was "Live Forever" that "got the world's attention". "Live Forever" became Oasis' first top-ten hit, reaching number ten on the UK Singles Chart in 1994. In 1995, the song charted in the United States, reaching number two and number ten on Billboard's Modern Rock Tracks and Album Rock Tracks charts, respectively. Noel Gallagher commented on the praise given to the song: "People said to me after 'Live Forever', 'Where are you gonna go after that?' And I was like, I don't think it's that good. I think it's a fucking good song, but I think I can do better."

"Live Forever" has garnered additional acclaim years after its release. In 2006, "Live Forever" was named the greatest song of all time in a poll released by Q; the song had ranked ninth in a similar Q poll three years prior. In 2007, "Live Forever" placed number one in the NME and XFM poll of the 50 "Greatest Indie Anthems Ever". Pitchfork labelled the song as Oasis' best-ever track and said of the song: "It's an honest, aspirational sentiment just as the photo of John Lennon's childhood home on the single's sleeve is an honest, tasteful exhibition of fandom." The music site went on to praise the song for its 'fearless optimism'. On 2 April 2018, Live Forever reached number one on Radio X's Best of British poll. On 5 April 2021, "Live Forever" reached number one on Radio X's Best of British 2021 poll. On 10 April 2023, it reached number one for the third time”.

A tremendous and rousing song, it is hard to believe that Live Forever is thirty. I remember it being released into the world and the excitement around the song. To this day, it remains hugely played across radio. I will write more about Definitely Maybe ahead of its thirtieth anniversary on 29th August. “Maybe you're the same as me/We see things they'll never see…

YOU and I are going to live forever”.