The mutual explosion of sci-fi and cheap paperbacks in the seventies necessitated a similar boom in sci-fi art. Near household names like Ralph McQuarrie, Roger Dean, Frank Frazetta, Robert McCall, and Alan Aldridge helped fulfill industry needs with nearly photorealistic depictions of otherworldly worlds, freaky tech, weird monsters, and excessively sinewed and/or buxom humanoids. The art adorning books by the likes of Asimov, Bradbury, Clarke, and Ellison were often selling points as major as the words within. Some of it was garish or tacky, but even the most ghastly covers displayed a wealth of imagination and technique. A good deal of it was truly beautiful.
While many of the hugest pop stars live lives of such strangeness that their music may only seem like a minor player in their biographies, Kate Bush's life has always been an extreme dichotomy between outlandishly rich artistry on vinyl and stage and utmost simplicity in her private life. There are no tales of Bush dumping TVs out of hotel windows or snorting ants. She was more likely hanging out with her brothers or Hoovering the living room. Of course, her music is so deep, startling, original, and infectious, so incomparably magical and obsession-inviting, that fans naturally want to know every little thing about her.
The Rolling Stones have long been celebrated for their glamorous, titillating rock and roll decadence, but before hooking up with two remarkable women, Mick Jagger and Keith Richards were basically a couple of low-key, awkward, middle-class English boys. It was Marianne Faithfull and, especially, Anita Pallenberg who helped elevate their art and personas by exposing them to culture outside of Muddy Waters and Chuck Berry. It was these women who imbued them with black magic mystique by pushing Jagger and Richards out of their comfort zones and into the more liberated/dangerous realms of sexual exploration and hard drug use. And while Jagger and Richards were lauded as "bad boy" templates for the male rock star, Faithfull and Pallenberg were held up as examples for how women should never behave and practically destroyed by both the men they loved and Britain's misogynistic tabloid press.
Well before superheroes became staples of feature films, or even TV shows like the Superman series of the fifties or the Batman one of the sixties, muscled men in tights most regularly appeared on screen in matinee serials. Both Superman and Batman got their live-action starts in serials. So did future TV and movie stars such as Captain Marvel, Captain America, Flash Gordon, and Dick Tracy. It was a very sensible way to bring these characters to the screen, as the short, action-packed, cliffhanger-beholden structure of a serial episode was pretty similar to that of a comic issue.
A lot has been made of how the teachings of primal scream therapy guru Arthur Janov inspired Tears for Fears' debut, The Hurting. However, while that more famous Janovian rock record, John Lennon's Plastic Ono Band, draws a very direct line to Janov's teachings-- what with the LP's raw sound, blood-freezing shrieks, and extremely personal references--the influence on The Hurting is much mistier. Roland Orzabal's lyrics generally refer to childhood pain and working through trauma, but he never gets very specific, and none of my cursory Internet research turned up any specific details on what exactly he and partner Curt Smith suffered as kids, aside from absentee dads and broken homes.
Eddie Piller is a big name in certain nattily attired, musically minded circles. He is the founder of Acid Jazz Records, a musical tastemaker who lends his name to mod and power pop compilations, and a renowned second-generation mod. So when I saw that he had a book coming along that cribbed its title from Mod-founder Pete Meaden's most famous description of his cult--clean living under difficult circumstances--I assumed it would be a general history of modernism.
London's The Attack had gone through quite a few personel changes by the time they started work on what was to be their first album, the subtly titled Roman God of War. By this point they'd lost Davy O'List to The Nice and the insufferable camp of "Created by Clive" and buckled down to power out psychedelic heavy rock in the vein of The Yardbirds and Pretty Things.
By the time they made their third album in 2002, Leicester's freakbeaters Bronco Bullfrog had relocated to London where they had access to a number of pro-studios, but they were a little light on material. So Andy Morten broke his monopoly a bit to allow bandmates Louis Wiggett and Mike Poulson to get more involved in the songwriting. The results were somewhat mixed. Although the album was very consistent with the group's deliberately retro vibe, that retro-ness was wearing thin for the band's leader, who felt that too many of the songs were derivative. When you hear how the Beatlesque "Barnaby Slade" and "I'm Not Getting Through" both recycled offbeat "Taxman" guitar accents and "Last Chance to Smile" begins with a "Pictures of Lily" descending chord figure before finishing with a substitute "Substitute" lick, you'll agree he has a point.
You know rock and roll has lost its bite when it becomes the subject of a big picture book for tiny little tots. What hand-wringing dads and moms once considered hymns of Satan is now fit for toddlers in Luis Demano and Susana Monteagudo's Illustrated History of Rock.
All written content of Psychobabble200.blogspot.com is the property of Mike Segretto and may not be reprinted or reposted without permission.
