Sinead O'Connor RIP

Sinead once said that ripping up the photo of the pope on SNL didn't destroy her career, it allowed her to recover her career and be the confrontational artist she always had been and always wanted to be.  The SNL appearance destroyed the career of the music execs who were banking on another five million copies sold for her next album. She had a long, successful career and never conformed to popular demand.  Her career trajectory will never be repeated.

I admittedly lost track of her musical output around 1995, her interests and mine were completely divergent in the mid-nineties.  When you'd read something about her it would usually be clickbait-style reporting on her personal hardships.  That's just how it was post-1993, once the money (according to the music establishment) was no longer in selling millions of records, it shifted to incessant negativity and phony narratives, crazy Sinead is opening her mouth and saying controversial things again so let's listen and laugh.  It was sad at the time and it's simply inexcusable now.  She was complex, she was always searching, she stood for something, and if she wasn't always perfectly eloquent about it then what does it matter.   Look at the tributes pouring in from musicians across several decades and wildly distinct genres.  I had forgotten how many guest appearances she did on other people's records and various compilations.  The wide spectrum of people who worked with her knew how special she was.  

I have written about "I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got" before, as time passes I think it become an increasingly indispensable classic.  The politics may have changes but the sentiments haven't.  It's still baffling to recall that millions of people paid money to listen to "Three Babies", "Black Boys on Mopeds", and "The Last Day of Our Acquaintance". 

"Get Back", dir. Peter Jackson (2021)

There is so much to say about this remarkable documentary, and yet what can I possibly say about the Beatles and "Get Back" that hasn't been said in the nearly two years since its release?

There have been a recent spate of biopics with shabby narratives and one-dimensional characters that exist mainly to provide a "fly on the wall" experience for the viewer who often dreamt of "being there" during those magical moments.  Every one of them has been put to shame by "Get Back".  Eight hours of insight into the inner workings of the actual, real life Beatles -- how can you top it?  

For the most part, the Beatles were who we thought they were at the time the documentary was filmed.  Paul was the confident perfectionist, assumed leader of the band, whose visionary ideas influenced the final output more than any other Beatle.  

John was the reluctant Beatle, charming and magnetic, but not entirely reliable and prone to moments of lethargy.  He was at home jamming with the others and goofing off in the studio, but less tolerant of the minutiae of deadlines and day-to-day business of the band.  Yoko accompanied him everywhere, and it's clear that he was mentally checked out of The Beatles.  The seeds are clearly sown for his departure from the band later that year.   

George's heart wasn't entirely in their work either, it's clear he felt underappreciated and restrained by continuing to work in the Beatles.  Some have commented that George comes across as petulant and immature, fighting over creative credit with John and Paul instead of just enjoying his fame and money.   For the most part I felt sorry for George.  He couldn't crack the McCartney-Lennon partnership, and had no hope of being a key creative force in the band no matter how hard he tried.  John could get away with bringing Yoko everywhere, and the other Beatles simply needed to learn to cope with it.  But nobody had much patience for George's meditation retreats and weirdo Hare Krishna friends.  In short, George needed to go solo more than any of the others. 

Ringo might have been quiet, barely uttering a word during most of the recording sessions, but his importance to the Beatles' sound couldn't have been more stark.  He hardly ever spoke, but he was constantly attentive, never caused any drama, and never had a bad take.  Ringo and Billy Preston were the unsung heroes of the film, always radiating positive vibes and providing the glue to keep the music flowing.  Preston's entry into the band is like night and day, the direction of the project doesn't fully gel until he joins.  

Prior to the release of "Get Back", the narrative was that the mood in the studio was horrible and that The Beatles were on the verge of collapse.  This is partly due to the "Let It Be" documentary (which I haven't seen) that was released over fifty years ago using some of the same footage.  I expected more shouting and arguments, but those are virtually non-existent.  For the most part, everyone is professional and enjoying themselves when they're able to sit together and jam.  A significant part of the film shows them messing around in the studio, playing wacky cover versions and impromptu jams.  Seeing Yoko as a constant presence is a bit strange, she didn't merely come to the studio and hang out, she sits literally next to John all the time, huddled together with the other three Beatles in the jam circle for hours on end.  But she always sits silently, never interrupts, and is never a distraction.  John never asks her to do anything, never asks her opinion.  After a while she simply blends in with the scenery, John clearly wanted her with him day and night, such was the depth of their connection. 

I can't possibly go into detail on all the nuanced character traits, or the multitude of charming and brilliant musical moments.  The direction of the project changes course a few times during the film, and we get to see it play out.  The build to the rooftop concert is a satisfying payoff, but one that remains in doubt nearly until the final moments. 

If there's a theme to it all, it would be the struggle between the idea of the Beatles as a band, and the Beatles as a brand.  Everybody understands that the band is a valuable commodity, even outside of the the conventional record-tour-album cycle, but nobody really understands how to manage it.  Today, it's normal for bands to go on hiatus, pursue outside projects, and reconvene later.  But there was no precedent for it in 1970.  Each Beatle had begun recording solo work -- they even released their work on the record label they personally set up to handle their interests.  And yet they couldn't find a way to balance their solo work with Beatles business.  It was all or nothing.  They were constantly pushing forward, with new projects and new creative outlets.  Monetizing their back catalog and making a profit off of Beatles nostalgia wasn't part of the vocabulary.  Even the addition of Billy Preston presented a challenge -- these days it's normal to add touring musicians, but at the time it was a genuine struggle to find a way to perform the songs because the four of them on stage was the only performance model they'd ever known.  

If there has ever been a better music documentary, I have yet to see it.  I can't see "Get Back" being topped any time soon.               

"Wham!", dir. Chris Smith

This documentary is difficult to follow, flying by breathlessly in a flurry of audio interviews, video clips, and scrapbook entries (the latter lovingly compiled, in thirty comprehensive volumes, by Andrew Ridgeley's mother during the 1980's").  I'm quite sure that was exactly what was intended.  The brief blaze of glory that was Wham should be presented as a whirlwind of events.  

I constantly needed to remind myself about how young they were.  When Michael tearfully accepted the Ivor Novello award for songwriting (the tabloids cruelly found humour in his show of emotion), he was barely twenty one and had been a mainstream pop star for less than two years.   The entire Wham story lasted only four years, and in documentary form it can seem a bit puzzling to watch it end so quickly.  But that four year arc is roughly the same as that of the Spice Girls, Take That, and One Direction.  Anyone who lived through the peaks of those bands knows how ubiquitous they were.  With the years in the rear view mirror, four years seems like a short time, but in the moment, events unfolded in slow motion nearly every day.  None of those groups imploded, they all went out at or close to the peaks of their power and influence.  It was simply time to move on to something else. 

As corny as it sounds, the highlight of the documentary is observing the strength of the Ridgeley-Michael friendship.  There was never any deep bitterness between them, and Ridgeley couldn't have been prouder or more supportive of Michael's solo success.  Michael comes off as a precocious savant, his talents were underappreciated until his genius became impossible to ignore or write off once "Faith" was released.  From writing "Careless Whisper" in 1981 and later producing it himself, to composing "Last Christmas" in a sudden burst of inspiration, the roots of his more mature and complex solo work are evident. 

Michael's sexual orientation is discussed at length.  We learn that he came out to Ridgeley early in Wham's career, and was torn between pursuing megastar status on the Madonna/Prince level and the pressures of not living his life openly.  I'm obviously not the best person to comment on it, but the 80's were not an easy time for the gay community.  They suffered through AIDS while many politicians remained indifferent and large sections of the general public vilified them for introducing it into the general (i.e. straight) population.  Frankie Goes To Hollywood and Jimmy Sommerville were more the exceptions, a great number of stars were terrified about letting the truth get out and presented themselves as ambiguously as possible.  In the 70's, David Bowie and Elton John could flamboyantly dress up in sequined jumpsuits and skintight leotards, that stuff was a no-go in the 80's.  Pop stars were expected to appear suave, rugged, and straight as an arrow, much like in Duran Duran's era-defining video for "Rio".   Michael speaks repeatedly about his ego, about constantly striving to be the best.  Would he have been even better than he was without the emotional stress?

Lush, "Spooky"

I need to counter the revisionist history of Julianne Shepherd's Sunday review in Pitchfork.   

The review paints Lush as underrated and misunderstood, a pop band unfairly lumped into a scene that wasn't suited for them, subject to discrimination on account of the two main songwriters and vocalists being women.  

As a side note, I need to take issue with this line: "Berenyi was the rare woman of color in the alt-rock scene of any subgenre".  As usual, Jews get no diversity points from most critics, the 90's had Justine Frischmann (Elastica), Louise Wener (Sleeper), Carrie Brownstein and Janet Weiss (Sleater-Kinney), just to name a few off the top of my head.  

"Female fronted rock bands" was a media catchphrase in 90's British indie rock, so I don't understand the implication that two women in a rock band was something particularly rare or notable, even in the shoegaze genre.  

Was there discrimination?  Undoubtedly.  Berenyi's autobiography (which I haven't read, but hopefully will eventually) describes many disturbing events in detail.  The video for Spooky's "Nothing Natural" is all the proof you need of the way male record execs tried to market them as sexy exotic gravure idols rather than just focusing on the music as they would have done with any male band.  With their hair billowing in the artificial wind, bodies pressed close, and wistful stares, it's like indie T.A.T.U. one decade ahead of its time.  Berenyi and Anderson don't look comfortable in the least.  

The suggestion that Lush were a pop entity and not really shoegaze is simply false.  In any number of interviews from the time (many good examples are collected here) they talk about burying their vocals in the mix, turning up the guitars, and playing with other bands in the shoegaze scene.  It's nonsensical to suggest that two former fanzine writers with virtually no prior experience in bands didn't know exactly what they were doing by latching onto a popular underground movement to boost interest in their group.  

Lush were always fairly rated.  During the 90's and 00's, dozens of urban centres had dozens of great shoegaze bands each.  Lush weren't better than most of them.  If anything, being a female fronted band helped distinguish them from the wealth of charisma-challenged male bands.  Musically speaking, "Spooky" is fairly pedestrian and displays its influences (Cocteau Twins, MBV) a bit too outwardly, there's a distinct lack of originality and plodding sameness to the tracks.  But that's how it was in the early days of shoegaze.  Most bands simply ripped off the undisputed kings of the genre and burned out quickly.  The more talented ones learned to adapt. Unfortunately, the mid-to-late 90's were a horrible time for shoegaze veterans trying to remain relevant and grow their audience, they were swiftly shunted aside by Britpop (in the UK) or by grunge and nu-metal (in the US).  

Sharing bills with the Gin Blossoms in America wasn't the right move, but the odds were stacked against them anyway.  Still, they had a decent chance at sustaining their success with "Lovelife".  "Ladykillers" smart and sassy and made perfect sense in the post-"Last Splash", post-"Live Through This" alt-rock scene.  It didn't happen, but that's OK.  I always liked them, I bought their "Best Of" and still enjoy a couple of the early EP's.  But they were not a great band, or an important one, or a band that demands an revision of their legacy.