Hi everyone
I've moved the whole shebang to wordpress - it seems to have worked OK, so head over there, I'll close off the comments etc here.
Kristin
xxxx
Sunday, 25 April 2010
Sunday, 20 December 2009
On parenting, drugs, alcohol and moral panics.. please discuss!
Call me an old hippy, and no, I’m not old enough to have been at Woodstock, but watching the movie ‘Taking Woodstock’ triggered musings and reminiscences about drugs and life in general. Yesterday in the Sydney Morning Herald, Duncan Fine wrote an excellent piece on talking to younger kids about drugs (Duncan Fine SMH 19.12.09), which prompted me to finish this blog post which I started some time ago.
I’ve also been thinking about the ‘binge drinking epidemic’ which is (apparently) gripping our nation and wondering if things were really so different when we were young. My observations, hardly scientific, lead me to speculate that if anything has changed, it’s the group determination of some (and only some) to keep drinking until comatose and the lack of genuine fun and enjoyment that seems to accompany this kind of drinking. Although of course there were always individuals who drank in this way, it certainly appears to be more widespread.
Interestingly, the (reported) rise in this joyless binge drinking has been paralleled by the ‘war on drugs’, the push towards sexual abstinence and the rising power of conservative churches in the US, and a general (if not as pronounced) shift towards social conservatism throughout the last decade and a half here in Australia. I am also convinced there is a direct link between the rise in binge drinking, the demise of live music in pubs and venues and the proliferation of soulless pubs and dance music. However I’ll save that train of thought to pursue another day.
So what (if this is true) does this say about our current situation vis-a-vis, drugs, alcohol and other ‘risky’ behaviours? Does it speak to the interests and lives of young adults? Or does it draw attention to policy or social deficits? Should more be ‘done’ or, are we doing too much?
The rising tide of uninformed judgemental statement masquerading as opinion, Government policy or, heaven help us, journalism is driving us ever closer to a dangerous situation in which we view our world and each other, through a simplistic black and white lens: right/wrong, good/evil, legal/illegal, moral/immoral. The glorious individual, with all our infinite variations, is being submerged along with the nuances and vagaries of life. Civil liberties, the rights and responsibilities of the individual and the community and the interplay between media, politics and law and order are topics which have become increasingly less nuanced and more ‘dumbed down’. Issues around the use and abuse of drugs and alcohol are a prime example of this, with the ‘debate’ reduced to statements & slogans, competing interests fighting for limited funding and unimaginative policy changes, all in the context of a broader national attitude towards alcohol that has long singled us out in the eyes of the world.
The very fact that ‘alcohol’ is somehow always separated from ‘drugs’ in general use and in debate speaks volumes. Alcohol is, by any definition, a drug and its legal status by no means infers that it is safer or should be more widely consumed or viewed with more or less approval than ‘other drugs'.
My personal stance on drugs of all kinds involves no consideration of ‘morality’ or socially or legally constructed ‘harm’ or ‘risk’. Like many other things to which the term is applied with abandon, I refuse to accept the inherently lazy assumption that a substance (or person or activity for that matter) is ‘evil’ or ‘immoral’ and to be legislated against for our own protection. This broad-brush painting by media and policy makers is, in my opinion, counter-productive as it removes the responsibility for each adult to be fully informed about what they consume and to consider their own physical, genetic and psychological makeup and current state of mind before consuming anything – be it food, drugs, religion, the internet or fashion.
So let’s get a few facts straight from the beginning; drugs are (sometimes but not always) fun, can make you feel good, can ease pain, reduce shyness, counter tiredness and induce flights of creativity. As Aldous Huxley pointed out, drugs can open the ‘doors of perception’. Like almost anything else, drug abuse also carries risk and is potentially dangerous and some individuals are inherently more vulnerable to these dangers than others. Some drugs and some people don’t mix and some people should never use any drugs, the important thing is to know yourself and know your friends as individuals as well as being fully informed about the various drugs available. Acknowledging, allowing and valuing the individual rather than applying ‘rules’ is what will ultimately save lives and minds.
On the ABC program Q&A some time ago, politician Sophie Mirabella displayed a breathtaking lack of perspective and knowledge when she stated that sending a 15 year old girl to sail solo round the world was ‘better’ than her ‘going to raves and taking e’s’.. hmmm.. I’m no actuary Sophie – but I wouldn’t put money on those odds. Her silly statement is however symptomatic of a society which glorifies sporting heroes and conformity above all else. We are apparently free to climb mountains, give all our money to a church, walk the Kokoda track until our hearts burst, gamble our life savings away, drive cars, play contact sports, take up big wave surfing or snowboarding and indulge in all manner of risky behaviours. As with drug use, a minority of people who do all these things and more, including simply getting out of bed in the morning, will come to grief as a result, so what’s the difference? Anyone? Sophie?
Personally, I am not a big drinker – never have been. I don’t dislike it, I enjoy a glass of good wine or an expensive shot of vodka or tequila, but being drunk is not a sensation that I feel comfortable with, similarly, I have never been a great lover of ‘party drugs’ or pills. Pot is my drug of choice, frankly – I love it and I’ve loved it since the day I first tried it. I don’t indulge much these days as I like to have a clear head for work and when I do I hunt down organically grown bush leaf as I dislike the ‘new’ hydroponically grown pot. I went through a brief and glorious psychedelic phase in my 20s, and fortunately came through it unscathed and with some incredible memories and experiences. Once freed from parenting and work commitments I definitely plan some further exploration of those wilder regions of my mind! Working in the music industry in the 80s brought me into unavoidable contact with as much free coke and speed as I wanted – neither of which I particularly enjoyed, but which sometimes came in handy for the long sleepless hours of standing up at gigs and going to work the next day.
I am, I must admit, blessed with a complete inability to become addicted to anything past a short term obsession – and perhaps this colours my thinking on the issue too much? I am aware that some, for whatever reason, do not have freedom of choice when it comes to a range of possibly addictive pursuits – drug taking being only one among many. Banning risky and addictive activities will not prevent death or accident, once we start on that road where do we stop? I would hazard a guess that for practically every activity known to man someone somewhere is addicted to it, and that most – no matter how seemingly innocuous - have resulted in the death of at least one person or the destruction of a life.
Some of the best times I have ever had have been under the influence of drugs, my memories of my wild years (20s, early 30s) involve alcohol, and a lot of other drugs besides, but (and here I could be wearing rosy coloured reverse spectacles). I can’t remember that we indulged to excess because we were bored, or had nothing to do or nothing to say to each other, or even because everyone else was doing it. My memories of my twenties and early thirties are that alcohol and drugs simply allowed us to take ourselves to the edge and experience highs and sometimes low far more intensely than we would have done otherwise. There were some, of course, who lived like that without chemical assistance and others who, sadly, took the path to ultimate self destruction.
As a parent now, I terrify myself to some extent when I think back – and I’m sure many will find it appalling for me to ‘glorify’ drugs and alcohol. But I can’t deny that some of my best memories (and this is crucial, being unable to remember what you did means you’ve gone too far) come from those times when we drew a line between straight, sober and sensible and completely written off and managed to sustain that delicate balance over a night or even days. These memories involve different people, different countries and different events, but each made me more aware of myself and the world around me.
The Lost Weekend is, of course, a brilliant Billy Wilder film that chronicles 4 days in the life of a chronic alcoholic. Alcohol and drugs, like marathon running and plastic surgery are not for everyone and for some, for whatever reason, pose the threat of addiction and self destruction. Salutory though the movie is, and horrible as alcoholism is (and as one who has been closely associated with it I speak from experience) the lost weekends of my memories are a different thing altogether; there are times in one’s life when events, circumstances, places and people come together and your life takes flight in unexpected and exhilarating ways. Often, these times were enabled or intensified by drugs, and although we sometimes took risks and placed ourselves in danger, I would not have missed a moment.
So as the parent of a teenager where the hell does that leave me when it comes to dealing with and discussing his inevitable and apparently constant exposure to drugs? As I said, I refuse to simply state that they are ‘bad’ or ‘evil’ or ‘dangerous’ and I am not enough of a hypocrite to pretend I have no experience of such matters. On the other hand, I am not a fan of parents who regale their kids with all the details of their past exploits, give them alcohol, share a joint with them, or condone teenage drinking and drug taking. The fact that we may have done things as teenagers does not make us hypocritical when we tell our own children not to do the same things, and allowing them to say that is a cop out. We didn’t know smoking was bad, we didn’t wear seatbelts as kids and our mothers drank while they were pregnant. Time and science advance, thank heavens!
Surprising though it may seem, I firmly believe that the weight of scientific evidence and research over the last 30 years clearly indicates that for many reasons young people should not use any drugs, at all, until they are at least 18. So the first thing I try to discuss and to get him to read and research is the science, his brain and body are precious and growing – and he only has one of each.
Most importantly though, I try to draw a distinction between pushing boundaries as a young adult or adult, and pushing them as a teenager. Self knowledge, confidence, mental stability and an innate sense of self preservation are all essential if one is to walk on the wild side and of course teenagers are in the process of developing these attributes. If those essential qualities aren’t developed and nurtured, if the arts of friendship, conversation, argument, debate, seduction, flirting and partying are never mastered straight and sober – then how can a young person grow to be a complete adult?
These are the conversations I try to sustain with my son and his friends, and at the end of the day you have to have confidence in your parenting and in your kid. You can’t restrict their every movement, I know some of his mates drink and smoke pot and I know he’s tried it. I’ve never seen him drunk – and he, and some of his friends tell me they are fed up with some mates and particularly some girls ‘having to’ get drunk every weekend (at 15!!!!). Being 15 is tough, girls are scary, boys don’t talk, parents are foreign and you are under enormous pressure at school and in life. If you can resist the urge to use drugs to get you through those years, surely your defences and inner strength will be so much greater as an adult?
What worries me is that there are 20 something year olds out there now (and I have met some) who appear unable to function socially unless they are drunk, who are unable or afraid to talk to the opposite sex, hold an intelligent conversation or have a good night out without drugs of some kind. When you’ve been getting drunk or out of it every weekend throughout your crucial teenage years it’s not surprising that you don’t progress past the social ineptness of the average 15 year old. Sadly, some of my son’s friends already have their feet on this path and fortunately some are already resisting.
The 20 somethings I see at the races, or clubbing in Kings Cross seem lost and somehow lonely, although they are always in large loud groups. They go to places where conversation is virtually impossible, they work ridiculous hours and apparently earn huge amounts of money, yet seem somehow empty and unhappy. Despite dressing like junior hookers, casual sex seems to many young women to be a drunken affair to be regretted rather than the exciting and sensual exploration of boundaries it has the potential to be between grownups. An innate political and social conservatism (they are the product of the last 20 years after all!) means that marriage, mortgages, sport and making money take priority – and perhaps this pressure is at the core of the empty kind of drugging and drinking to oblivion I referred to earlier?
As I’ve said in other posts, I meet many many young adults who are not like this at all – far from it, but I doubt these are the people around whom the moral panic about alcohol abuse is revolving. Answers? I don’t know. Despite doing all the research I possibly can, I don’t even know if I’m correct in my observations or in my parenting strategies (another opinion to add to the mix). I could yet be proved horribly wrong, but I do know that as parents we need to have these discussions between ourselves and have them often, as clearly the government and policy makers have even less of a clue than us.
I’ve also been thinking about the ‘binge drinking epidemic’ which is (apparently) gripping our nation and wondering if things were really so different when we were young. My observations, hardly scientific, lead me to speculate that if anything has changed, it’s the group determination of some (and only some) to keep drinking until comatose and the lack of genuine fun and enjoyment that seems to accompany this kind of drinking. Although of course there were always individuals who drank in this way, it certainly appears to be more widespread.
Interestingly, the (reported) rise in this joyless binge drinking has been paralleled by the ‘war on drugs’, the push towards sexual abstinence and the rising power of conservative churches in the US, and a general (if not as pronounced) shift towards social conservatism throughout the last decade and a half here in Australia. I am also convinced there is a direct link between the rise in binge drinking, the demise of live music in pubs and venues and the proliferation of soulless pubs and dance music. However I’ll save that train of thought to pursue another day.
So what (if this is true) does this say about our current situation vis-a-vis, drugs, alcohol and other ‘risky’ behaviours? Does it speak to the interests and lives of young adults? Or does it draw attention to policy or social deficits? Should more be ‘done’ or, are we doing too much?
The rising tide of uninformed judgemental statement masquerading as opinion, Government policy or, heaven help us, journalism is driving us ever closer to a dangerous situation in which we view our world and each other, through a simplistic black and white lens: right/wrong, good/evil, legal/illegal, moral/immoral. The glorious individual, with all our infinite variations, is being submerged along with the nuances and vagaries of life. Civil liberties, the rights and responsibilities of the individual and the community and the interplay between media, politics and law and order are topics which have become increasingly less nuanced and more ‘dumbed down’. Issues around the use and abuse of drugs and alcohol are a prime example of this, with the ‘debate’ reduced to statements & slogans, competing interests fighting for limited funding and unimaginative policy changes, all in the context of a broader national attitude towards alcohol that has long singled us out in the eyes of the world.
The very fact that ‘alcohol’ is somehow always separated from ‘drugs’ in general use and in debate speaks volumes. Alcohol is, by any definition, a drug and its legal status by no means infers that it is safer or should be more widely consumed or viewed with more or less approval than ‘other drugs'.
My personal stance on drugs of all kinds involves no consideration of ‘morality’ or socially or legally constructed ‘harm’ or ‘risk’. Like many other things to which the term is applied with abandon, I refuse to accept the inherently lazy assumption that a substance (or person or activity for that matter) is ‘evil’ or ‘immoral’ and to be legislated against for our own protection. This broad-brush painting by media and policy makers is, in my opinion, counter-productive as it removes the responsibility for each adult to be fully informed about what they consume and to consider their own physical, genetic and psychological makeup and current state of mind before consuming anything – be it food, drugs, religion, the internet or fashion.
So let’s get a few facts straight from the beginning; drugs are (sometimes but not always) fun, can make you feel good, can ease pain, reduce shyness, counter tiredness and induce flights of creativity. As Aldous Huxley pointed out, drugs can open the ‘doors of perception’. Like almost anything else, drug abuse also carries risk and is potentially dangerous and some individuals are inherently more vulnerable to these dangers than others. Some drugs and some people don’t mix and some people should never use any drugs, the important thing is to know yourself and know your friends as individuals as well as being fully informed about the various drugs available. Acknowledging, allowing and valuing the individual rather than applying ‘rules’ is what will ultimately save lives and minds.
On the ABC program Q&A some time ago, politician Sophie Mirabella displayed a breathtaking lack of perspective and knowledge when she stated that sending a 15 year old girl to sail solo round the world was ‘better’ than her ‘going to raves and taking e’s’.. hmmm.. I’m no actuary Sophie – but I wouldn’t put money on those odds. Her silly statement is however symptomatic of a society which glorifies sporting heroes and conformity above all else. We are apparently free to climb mountains, give all our money to a church, walk the Kokoda track until our hearts burst, gamble our life savings away, drive cars, play contact sports, take up big wave surfing or snowboarding and indulge in all manner of risky behaviours. As with drug use, a minority of people who do all these things and more, including simply getting out of bed in the morning, will come to grief as a result, so what’s the difference? Anyone? Sophie?
Personally, I am not a big drinker – never have been. I don’t dislike it, I enjoy a glass of good wine or an expensive shot of vodka or tequila, but being drunk is not a sensation that I feel comfortable with, similarly, I have never been a great lover of ‘party drugs’ or pills. Pot is my drug of choice, frankly – I love it and I’ve loved it since the day I first tried it. I don’t indulge much these days as I like to have a clear head for work and when I do I hunt down organically grown bush leaf as I dislike the ‘new’ hydroponically grown pot. I went through a brief and glorious psychedelic phase in my 20s, and fortunately came through it unscathed and with some incredible memories and experiences. Once freed from parenting and work commitments I definitely plan some further exploration of those wilder regions of my mind! Working in the music industry in the 80s brought me into unavoidable contact with as much free coke and speed as I wanted – neither of which I particularly enjoyed, but which sometimes came in handy for the long sleepless hours of standing up at gigs and going to work the next day.
I am, I must admit, blessed with a complete inability to become addicted to anything past a short term obsession – and perhaps this colours my thinking on the issue too much? I am aware that some, for whatever reason, do not have freedom of choice when it comes to a range of possibly addictive pursuits – drug taking being only one among many. Banning risky and addictive activities will not prevent death or accident, once we start on that road where do we stop? I would hazard a guess that for practically every activity known to man someone somewhere is addicted to it, and that most – no matter how seemingly innocuous - have resulted in the death of at least one person or the destruction of a life.
Some of the best times I have ever had have been under the influence of drugs, my memories of my wild years (20s, early 30s) involve alcohol, and a lot of other drugs besides, but (and here I could be wearing rosy coloured reverse spectacles). I can’t remember that we indulged to excess because we were bored, or had nothing to do or nothing to say to each other, or even because everyone else was doing it. My memories of my twenties and early thirties are that alcohol and drugs simply allowed us to take ourselves to the edge and experience highs and sometimes low far more intensely than we would have done otherwise. There were some, of course, who lived like that without chemical assistance and others who, sadly, took the path to ultimate self destruction.
As a parent now, I terrify myself to some extent when I think back – and I’m sure many will find it appalling for me to ‘glorify’ drugs and alcohol. But I can’t deny that some of my best memories (and this is crucial, being unable to remember what you did means you’ve gone too far) come from those times when we drew a line between straight, sober and sensible and completely written off and managed to sustain that delicate balance over a night or even days. These memories involve different people, different countries and different events, but each made me more aware of myself and the world around me.
The Lost Weekend is, of course, a brilliant Billy Wilder film that chronicles 4 days in the life of a chronic alcoholic. Alcohol and drugs, like marathon running and plastic surgery are not for everyone and for some, for whatever reason, pose the threat of addiction and self destruction. Salutory though the movie is, and horrible as alcoholism is (and as one who has been closely associated with it I speak from experience) the lost weekends of my memories are a different thing altogether; there are times in one’s life when events, circumstances, places and people come together and your life takes flight in unexpected and exhilarating ways. Often, these times were enabled or intensified by drugs, and although we sometimes took risks and placed ourselves in danger, I would not have missed a moment.
So as the parent of a teenager where the hell does that leave me when it comes to dealing with and discussing his inevitable and apparently constant exposure to drugs? As I said, I refuse to simply state that they are ‘bad’ or ‘evil’ or ‘dangerous’ and I am not enough of a hypocrite to pretend I have no experience of such matters. On the other hand, I am not a fan of parents who regale their kids with all the details of their past exploits, give them alcohol, share a joint with them, or condone teenage drinking and drug taking. The fact that we may have done things as teenagers does not make us hypocritical when we tell our own children not to do the same things, and allowing them to say that is a cop out. We didn’t know smoking was bad, we didn’t wear seatbelts as kids and our mothers drank while they were pregnant. Time and science advance, thank heavens!
Surprising though it may seem, I firmly believe that the weight of scientific evidence and research over the last 30 years clearly indicates that for many reasons young people should not use any drugs, at all, until they are at least 18. So the first thing I try to discuss and to get him to read and research is the science, his brain and body are precious and growing – and he only has one of each.
Most importantly though, I try to draw a distinction between pushing boundaries as a young adult or adult, and pushing them as a teenager. Self knowledge, confidence, mental stability and an innate sense of self preservation are all essential if one is to walk on the wild side and of course teenagers are in the process of developing these attributes. If those essential qualities aren’t developed and nurtured, if the arts of friendship, conversation, argument, debate, seduction, flirting and partying are never mastered straight and sober – then how can a young person grow to be a complete adult?
These are the conversations I try to sustain with my son and his friends, and at the end of the day you have to have confidence in your parenting and in your kid. You can’t restrict their every movement, I know some of his mates drink and smoke pot and I know he’s tried it. I’ve never seen him drunk – and he, and some of his friends tell me they are fed up with some mates and particularly some girls ‘having to’ get drunk every weekend (at 15!!!!). Being 15 is tough, girls are scary, boys don’t talk, parents are foreign and you are under enormous pressure at school and in life. If you can resist the urge to use drugs to get you through those years, surely your defences and inner strength will be so much greater as an adult?
What worries me is that there are 20 something year olds out there now (and I have met some) who appear unable to function socially unless they are drunk, who are unable or afraid to talk to the opposite sex, hold an intelligent conversation or have a good night out without drugs of some kind. When you’ve been getting drunk or out of it every weekend throughout your crucial teenage years it’s not surprising that you don’t progress past the social ineptness of the average 15 year old. Sadly, some of my son’s friends already have their feet on this path and fortunately some are already resisting.
The 20 somethings I see at the races, or clubbing in Kings Cross seem lost and somehow lonely, although they are always in large loud groups. They go to places where conversation is virtually impossible, they work ridiculous hours and apparently earn huge amounts of money, yet seem somehow empty and unhappy. Despite dressing like junior hookers, casual sex seems to many young women to be a drunken affair to be regretted rather than the exciting and sensual exploration of boundaries it has the potential to be between grownups. An innate political and social conservatism (they are the product of the last 20 years after all!) means that marriage, mortgages, sport and making money take priority – and perhaps this pressure is at the core of the empty kind of drugging and drinking to oblivion I referred to earlier?
As I’ve said in other posts, I meet many many young adults who are not like this at all – far from it, but I doubt these are the people around whom the moral panic about alcohol abuse is revolving. Answers? I don’t know. Despite doing all the research I possibly can, I don’t even know if I’m correct in my observations or in my parenting strategies (another opinion to add to the mix). I could yet be proved horribly wrong, but I do know that as parents we need to have these discussions between ourselves and have them often, as clearly the government and policy makers have even less of a clue than us.
Monday, 26 October 2009
Why don't you all just f*** off: On immigration, ignorance and fear
Bend over White Australia: we’re a nation of trembling, gutless, fearful pushovers. Passive, inert and devoid of an original thought, we deserve every thrust of every f***ing over our politicians dish out.
Fear is not an emotion that is readily associated with the Australian ‘brand’. Aren’t we all rugged individualists? Isn’t White Australia a nation forged from the blood and guts of another country’s human detritus? How about our celebrated mateship? Our self-expressed cynicism and refusal to kowtow to those who consider themselves our betters?
Well, I have one thing to say to that: you’re dreaming mate, if that Australia ever really existed, it exists no longer except in mythical form; a myth that we treasure and nurture certainly, but which bears little resemblance to reality. The reality, my fellow Australians - and I make no apology for this - is that we are ruled by fear, divided by fear and driven by fear.
Sometimes, often in fact, a situation presents itself that is complex, with many shades of grey and no possible wholly right or wrong outcome. Crime, immigration, race, social welfare are all examples of such issues; and I’ll agree, it is time consuming and without the reward of immediate gratification to take time from our busy lives to devote the requisite time and thought to these thorny problems. Instead, we consume pre-packaged opinion and analysis from our media, our politicians and our opinion makers. Some of us consume in a questioning and demanding fashion, prepared to take issue, to challenge and to seek out and demand rigorous research and intellectual analysis. Others are happy to take our opinions pre-packaged and unchallenged, particularly if they conform to ideas, preconceptions or notions that we already hold.
Criminologist and sociologist Murray Lee has written of the Fear of Crime Feedback Loop, which exists as a perpetual and finely tuned force in Australia and which can be applied to more than just crime. This loop is the process of the manufacture of a fear, threat or risk, the official response to that fear, the discussion of the fear and response in the media and wider community and the actions and (importantly) reactions arising from and contributing to this process.
Essentially, and this in no way does justice to the enormous body of work and the subtleties of the various approaches and writers (for example Anthony Giddens, Ulrich Beck), there is a school of thought which holds that our world today is uncertain and rapidly changing, certainties that once existed no longer exist and as a result we feel threatened and insecure. Living on such shifting sands, we tend to herd towards what we see as (or are told are) small patches of solid ground, whereupon we defend that ground, attempting to build seawalls of laws, regulations and actuarial calculation of perceived or actual risk. This fear and uncertainty creates a compliant population which is easily controlled by those who practise the now finely tuned art of ‘dog whistle politics’ and who, it seems, know us far better than we know ourselves.
Zygmunt Bauman, a Polish born sociologist who resides in the UK, writes on the subjects of modernity and postmodernity (which he calls solid and liquid modernity), rationality, and the stranger among us. His observations, insights and predictions regarding our current state of existence in the Western world are beautifully written, enlightening and potentially life changing. Among many other theorists, philosophers and sociologists, Bauman identifies fear of ‘the Other’ or ‘the Stranger’ as one of many tools used by governments and those in power to exercise control over the populace.
As Barbara Hudson notes, the identification of the different and dangerous is an ‘abandonment of liberalism’s philosophical egalitarianism and a move towards neo-liberalism. .”. Bertrand Russell wrote, way back in 1943, at a time when such things were uppermost in people’s minds “Collective fear stimulates herd instinct, and tends to produce ferocity toward those who are not regarded as members of the herd.”
Wedge politics is a method of governmentality that is deliberate on the part of the governer and responsive on the part of the governed. We respond to the dog whistle because of our desire to move towards what we see as normalcy, we automatically attempt to avoid being the ‘deviant’. The clearly defined and frequently reinforced barriers between ‘normalcy’ and ‘deviance’ (Australian and UnAustralian) laid out by the Howard government, and the added ‘condition of possibility’ of a population, which compared to some other democracies is relatively passive, made us extra responsive to these particular instruments of governmentality during the events and election of 2001, and the massive restrictions to our civil liberties that were set in place as a result of 9/11 and the Bali bombings.
As the current immigration debate takes shape, it seems that not much has changed. Both parties have (mostly) deleted the vitriol and the most vindictive of their policies, and are making an effort to present themselves as more humane. However, the shameful use of asylum seekers as tools and fodder for political manouvering and manipulation of the populace continues unabated, albeit in a more sophisticated form; and the peddling of hate, lies and misinformation by the erstwhile media lapdogs of the Howard government continues unabated.
But surely fear is nothing new? Fear of ‘the Other’ has existed since the beginning of the human race, with its evolutionary roots no doubt in self-protective instinct and superstitions. The demonisation of those outside the ‘mainstream’ to achieve political gain - witch hunts, religious persecution and the Inquisition being the obvious examples from pre-industrial times - is nothing new. The creation of a perception of risk underpinned by a people’s values and beliefs; and the use of beliefs to blame, divide and persecute groups and place them ‘outside’ the dominant culture has been utilised for centuries.
As recently as the persecution of indigenous peoples by European colonists in the late 19th and early 20th century, and possibly the hysteria surrounding the fear of the ‘negro’ in early 20th century America, a case could be made that demonisation was made possible by the ignorance and widespread illiteracy and naiivety of a population who knew little, if anything, of the world outside their immediate experience. But the fact that an educated population, exposed to the world through media and travel, continue to respond in much the same way today is surely extraordinary in the face of our massive advances as a society in all other areas. ‘The feared subject’ (criminal, immigrant, indigenous person, teenager) is always among us, despite our modern rationalisation of almost everything else in our lives.
Bauman quotes Albrecht:
“Demonisation has been replaced by the concept and the strategy of ‘dangerisation’. Political governance, therefore, has become partially dependent on the deviant other and the mobilisation of feelings of safety. Political power, and its establishment, as well as its preservation, are today dependent on carefully selected campaign issues, among which safety (and feelings of unsafety) is paramount” and then adds “Immigrants, let us note, fit better into such a purpose than any other category of genuine or putative villains ...”
Bauman eloquently sums up the direct link between our medieval ancestors’ fear of demons and witches and our fear of the victims of war and religious persecution in leaky boats thus
“When all places and positions feel shaky and are deemed no longer reliable, the sight of immigrants rubs salt into the wound. Immigrants, and particularly the fresh arrivals among them, exude the faint odour of the waste disposal tip which in its many disguises haunts the nights of the prospective casualties of rising vulnerability. For their detractors and haters, immigrants embody – visibly, tangibly, in the flesh – the inarticulate, yet hurtful and painful presentiment of their own disposability..”
The fact is that we are citizens not only of Australia, but of the ever-shrinking and ever more interdependent world. The conflicts and misfortune visited on other countries and peoples are as much our responsibility as anyone else’s in the world.
We are all, at times, guilty of lazy thinking and snap judgements, of letting others take the running or tell us what to think, but that is no way to run a country, or indeed the world.
I speak directly to those who follow the hateful racism of ‘journalists’ such as Andrew Bolt or the ‘leadership’ of the likes of Wilson Tuckey, Alex Hawke or Jim Saleam – you know who you are, and so do the rest of us - when I say:
You are lazy, you are pathetic and you are ruled by fear. Your tough talk and your hate do not make you important, instead they underline your puniness in the face of manipulative people who seek to use you for their own ends and then cast you aside. You have no backbone, you have no pride in your country, you have no world view outside the tiny piece of ground you think is yours. Your bullying of those less fortunate than yourselves reveals your small mindedness and your misguided sense of your own importance.
You are so stupid, weak and blinkered that you fail to realise that you have been used as pawns by men in suits and that your thoughts and words are not yours, but merely what you have been conditioned to unquestioningly think. Your wilful ignorance of the facts of a situation, for example the fact that asylum seekers are not illegal, and your continued use of terminology and language that perpetuates falsehoods such as ‘queue jumpers’ and ‘illegal immigrants’, betrays the fact that you have squandered the excellent and free education that you have received in Australia – if you want to talk about people who are ungrateful, you top the list.
How dare you claim to speak for the rest of us. How dare you claim the right to air your opinion. I say that as a true Australian you should forfeit that right when you do not speak responsibly or from a position of self awareness, consideration, fairness and a careful weighing up of the facts and evidence. We are not an illiterate population, we do not believe in witchcraft or demons, we are not ruled by superstition. We are a modern, wealthy western secular democracy who have had everything handed to us on a plate. It is our responsibility as citizens of such a country to behave in a just and carefully considered fashion.
It takes far more guts to leave everything you own and attempt to start a new life than it does to sit on your spoilt arse and trumpet your ignorance to the readership of the Daily Telegraph. What have you ever done, or had to do, that even remotely parallels that? In terms of what our country needs for the future: that bravery and perseverance and those leadership qualities will surely prove themselves more valuable than whatever you and your ignorance can offer, as far as I’m concerned you can bugger off and make room for them.
Some references/further reading if you’re interested
Murray Lee (2007). Inventing Fear of Crime: Criminology and the Politics of Anxiety. Willan Publishing.
Anthony Giddens, A. (1993) ‘The Nature of Modernity’ in P. Cassell (ed) The Giddens Reader, Stanford University Press, California
Hudson, Barbara. 2003. Justice in the Risk Society: Challenging and Re-Affirming Justice in Late Modernity. London: Sage Publications
Rose, N. (1991) ‘Governing by numbers: figuring out democracy’ Accounting organisations and Society, vol 1
P.Miller, G Burchell and C.Gordon (eds) The Foucault effect: Studies in Governmentality
Pratt, J. (1997) Governing the Dangerous, Federation Press, Annandale
Bauman, Z (2004) Wasted lives: Modernity and its Outcasts
Ulrich Beck: ‘Risk Society: Towards a New Modernity’
Mary Douglas: ‘Essays in Cultural Theory’
Pat O’Malley, Michel Foucault etc.
Wednesday, 7 October 2009
Songs to make you ... advice for young (aspiring) lovers
Music and sex, sex and music, it seems to be a preoccupation at the moment, but hey, spring is in the air. I’ve had a few conversations with lovely young men lately about young women, and how to approach them with a view to enjoying a night or so of good times, without necessarily wanting to settle down into a relationship. So here, with a grain of salt, are my entirely unscientific tips for young straight blokes on how to use music to, shall we say, loosen things up a little.
Its pretty personal stuff I know, and everyone is of course different. I’m sure there are girls out there who swoon at the first notes of a Snoop Dogg or Lady Ga Ga ditty or daydream of making sweet love to the sounds of Pete Murray. This little blog is not for them or the boys who want them, it’s about a woman worth pursuing, a man who’s man enough for her, and a night to remember.
Men are apparently afraid to express themselves with women, confused about what women want and the signals they give out, and unsure how to be an evolved young man who is respectful of women while still getting laid (to put it bluntly). Despite a rather lamentable trend towards the straight and narrow in young women these days, not all of them want a boyfriend, and not all women view a night of great sex with a nice bloke on a level playing field (or a bed) as a promise of marriage (sorry Beyonce, I find you old fashioned and rather pathetic in your assumption that women want a ‘ring on it’, especially when you take enormous pains to present yourself and your glorious body in voyeuristic videos that border on soft porn). The bottom line should always be a mutual respect and openness about just what to expect. Tricking a romantic girl into the sack with promises of eternal love is just as wrong as expecting an offer of marriage in return for ‘giving yourself to a man’.
So if you’re a tongue tied music loving young bloke, speak through the music. If you’re into someone in a big way and have some time for planning, the mixed tape (or CD these days) is your missive d’amore. Burn that girl something that will make her burn, give her a slow buildup of tracks, tease her a little with something witty, flirt a bit, show her a little about yourself, make her laugh, make her dance around the room, make her pick the phone up at the end of the CD or better still knock on your door. If you’re in a spur of the moment situation with someone you’ve just met, talk about your favourite music and play it if you can, hijack the party music, put a CD on or play a track on the jukebox (yes, I know, it conjures images of Garth and the ‘Foxy Lady’ in Wayne’s World for me too, but you can move past that if you concentrate), give her your ipod headphones to listen to that certain track (and keep hold of the ipod so you have to stand close and lean in just a little - if she leans away, move on).
What to leave out of the tape or off the stereo? Ballads: too namby pamby, too ‘I want a long term relationship’, too manipulative - save them for your wedding. A 13 year old dreaming of a big white wedding dress goes tingly all over for a pretty boy crooning sweetly, but let’s hope for more reasons than one that the girl you’re after has grown out of that phase. Misogynistic rubbish of the kind peddled by some ‘rap’ or ‘hip hop’ artists; a woman who is turned on by those attitudes is a woman with problems – and you don’t want to be involving yourself with that; ditto for racist or homophobic music or songs about guns, war or violence.
Rule number one, play her music that you genuinely love. Passion about anything is a turn on, an indicator that more passion bubbles beneath, and if she likes the music you like there’s a good chance you’ll like each other. Meaningful music is great, as long as it is genuinely meaningful to you and not soppy and manipulative. Sharing a song that reminds you of a lost friend or great times reveals something of yourself – and that is sexy. Sharing a song that reminds you of your mother or your ex girlfriend, or which expresses stalkerish sentiments similar to Elvis Costello’s ‘I want you’ is not so sexy. Perhaps leave the political anthems out of the mix, unless the girl that gets you hot is manning a barricade beside you, in which case crank up the Internationale and impress her by knowing the lyrics in French and English.
As a general rule the rhythm section is your friend. Yes boys, it’s as obvious as that. Rhythm, bass, drums, pounding - get the message? Take it from that scrawny little sex machine Prince, it’s all about the rhythm and those low, dirty notes. Bearing that in mind, some funk would be a good inclusion. Perhaps George Clinton is a little out there unless you’re sure she ‘gets’ it, in which case she’s probably up for a wild old time; maybe some vintage Prince, Isaac Hayes or Curtis Mayfield, some Chilli Peppers or RATM.
Don’t be afraid to go right to the heart of the matter, some songs about sex are as sexy as hell, and men who can talk about sex in the right way generally have a pretty good idea of how to go about it. An entire playlist of songs about sex crosses the creepy line, but after you’ve laid down a good intro that tells her you’re a smart, funny interesting guy, bring it on.
Most women, if they already like the guy, will respond to an upfront confident proposal for sex rather than a sideways sneaking up approach. For me, the sexiest song, the one that really gets me, is NIN’s Closer. It’s explicit and far from romantic, but the juxtaposition of the lines ‘I want to fuck you like an animal’ and ‘you bring me closer to God’ is all but irresistible; the song is all about the woman and her power but it doesn’t set her up as a goddess (another slightly creepy turnoff). James Brown’s Sex Machine, on the other hand, I find a little too ‘I’m a great lover and I’ll show you a great time’, a line which only appeals to certain types of simple girls and which can only lead to trouble.
In general, if you’re headbangers, stay away from technical geeky music, Norwegian death metal and overblown hair metal and steer towards something more melodic, uncontrolled and elemental with a vocalist who puts it all out there or instrumentals that move along and have a strong melodic thread. As a final caveat and word of warning, it’s a truth universally assumed that men who can dance well can also fuck well, so if you can move then do so by all means. But if you can’t, then under no circumstances put yourself in a situation where the opportunity to dance may arise or your quest will be doomed before it begins.
Its pretty personal stuff I know, and everyone is of course different. I’m sure there are girls out there who swoon at the first notes of a Snoop Dogg or Lady Ga Ga ditty or daydream of making sweet love to the sounds of Pete Murray. This little blog is not for them or the boys who want them, it’s about a woman worth pursuing, a man who’s man enough for her, and a night to remember.
Men are apparently afraid to express themselves with women, confused about what women want and the signals they give out, and unsure how to be an evolved young man who is respectful of women while still getting laid (to put it bluntly). Despite a rather lamentable trend towards the straight and narrow in young women these days, not all of them want a boyfriend, and not all women view a night of great sex with a nice bloke on a level playing field (or a bed) as a promise of marriage (sorry Beyonce, I find you old fashioned and rather pathetic in your assumption that women want a ‘ring on it’, especially when you take enormous pains to present yourself and your glorious body in voyeuristic videos that border on soft porn). The bottom line should always be a mutual respect and openness about just what to expect. Tricking a romantic girl into the sack with promises of eternal love is just as wrong as expecting an offer of marriage in return for ‘giving yourself to a man’.
So if you’re a tongue tied music loving young bloke, speak through the music. If you’re into someone in a big way and have some time for planning, the mixed tape (or CD these days) is your missive d’amore. Burn that girl something that will make her burn, give her a slow buildup of tracks, tease her a little with something witty, flirt a bit, show her a little about yourself, make her laugh, make her dance around the room, make her pick the phone up at the end of the CD or better still knock on your door. If you’re in a spur of the moment situation with someone you’ve just met, talk about your favourite music and play it if you can, hijack the party music, put a CD on or play a track on the jukebox (yes, I know, it conjures images of Garth and the ‘Foxy Lady’ in Wayne’s World for me too, but you can move past that if you concentrate), give her your ipod headphones to listen to that certain track (and keep hold of the ipod so you have to stand close and lean in just a little - if she leans away, move on).
What to leave out of the tape or off the stereo? Ballads: too namby pamby, too ‘I want a long term relationship’, too manipulative - save them for your wedding. A 13 year old dreaming of a big white wedding dress goes tingly all over for a pretty boy crooning sweetly, but let’s hope for more reasons than one that the girl you’re after has grown out of that phase. Misogynistic rubbish of the kind peddled by some ‘rap’ or ‘hip hop’ artists; a woman who is turned on by those attitudes is a woman with problems – and you don’t want to be involving yourself with that; ditto for racist or homophobic music or songs about guns, war or violence.
Rule number one, play her music that you genuinely love. Passion about anything is a turn on, an indicator that more passion bubbles beneath, and if she likes the music you like there’s a good chance you’ll like each other. Meaningful music is great, as long as it is genuinely meaningful to you and not soppy and manipulative. Sharing a song that reminds you of a lost friend or great times reveals something of yourself – and that is sexy. Sharing a song that reminds you of your mother or your ex girlfriend, or which expresses stalkerish sentiments similar to Elvis Costello’s ‘I want you’ is not so sexy. Perhaps leave the political anthems out of the mix, unless the girl that gets you hot is manning a barricade beside you, in which case crank up the Internationale and impress her by knowing the lyrics in French and English.
As a general rule the rhythm section is your friend. Yes boys, it’s as obvious as that. Rhythm, bass, drums, pounding - get the message? Take it from that scrawny little sex machine Prince, it’s all about the rhythm and those low, dirty notes. Bearing that in mind, some funk would be a good inclusion. Perhaps George Clinton is a little out there unless you’re sure she ‘gets’ it, in which case she’s probably up for a wild old time; maybe some vintage Prince, Isaac Hayes or Curtis Mayfield, some Chilli Peppers or RATM.
Don’t be afraid to go right to the heart of the matter, some songs about sex are as sexy as hell, and men who can talk about sex in the right way generally have a pretty good idea of how to go about it. An entire playlist of songs about sex crosses the creepy line, but after you’ve laid down a good intro that tells her you’re a smart, funny interesting guy, bring it on.
Most women, if they already like the guy, will respond to an upfront confident proposal for sex rather than a sideways sneaking up approach. For me, the sexiest song, the one that really gets me, is NIN’s Closer. It’s explicit and far from romantic, but the juxtaposition of the lines ‘I want to fuck you like an animal’ and ‘you bring me closer to God’ is all but irresistible; the song is all about the woman and her power but it doesn’t set her up as a goddess (another slightly creepy turnoff). James Brown’s Sex Machine, on the other hand, I find a little too ‘I’m a great lover and I’ll show you a great time’, a line which only appeals to certain types of simple girls and which can only lead to trouble.
In general, if you’re headbangers, stay away from technical geeky music, Norwegian death metal and overblown hair metal and steer towards something more melodic, uncontrolled and elemental with a vocalist who puts it all out there or instrumentals that move along and have a strong melodic thread. As a final caveat and word of warning, it’s a truth universally assumed that men who can dance well can also fuck well, so if you can move then do so by all means. But if you can’t, then under no circumstances put yourself in a situation where the opportunity to dance may arise or your quest will be doomed before it begins.
Tuesday, 29 September 2009
A postcript to the Frank Turner posting
My favourite Billy Bragg story – and one that underlines my constant refrain of music as a lifetime companion – involves a CD signing in a small record shop in Bondi Junction after the release of Mermaid Avenue. I was there with about 40 other fans – all about my age, which is about the same age as Billy himself, and one woman produced a photo of her young son. Billy promptly whipped out a photo of his own son, as did almost everyone and a lengthy chat ensued about parenting, the lifestyle changes and challenges it presents and life in general for the ageing lefties we had all become. All that was missing was the teapot and kitchen table. The point being that we had all started out together solving the world’s problems, protesting, raging and full of anger.. and we had all grown up and weathered a few things together. Billy himself had maintained the anger and the activism, as had many others among us to varying degrees, but the feeling of companionship, shared experience and friendship among the group was much broader than just a shared politics.
I wonder if Frank Turner will stick around long enough to build the same long term relationships with strangers? I hope so.
Singer Songwriters & Frank Turner.
As is evident in my earlier post about the politics of the personal and music I am a firm believer in the power of the personal story to move, amuse, effect change or provoke thought, set that story to music and that power is maximised.
Whether fronting a band or sitting on a stool strumming, the singer/songwriter or solo performer creates a far more intimate one to one connection with the listener or audience. I prefer the sound of Ryan Adams when he plays with The Cardinals and Steve Earle when he plays with The Dukes, both amazing bands - but the focus remains front and centre. Its their words and their voice I want to hear, and the relationship I have as a listener/admirer is with the man not the band. This can, in the case of bratty geniuses like Ryan Adams, grumps like Neil Young and Bob Dylan or dead people like Jeff Buckley, Gram Parsons, Joe Strummer and Johnny Cash be somewhat fraught with tension or sadness.
The singer songwriter with whom you bond can be a wonderful and inspiring companion, but I am at a loss to really quantify what separates the few I love from the many I just find blah. If you want to start an argument in a pub amongst a group of music lovers, begin a discussion on who are the ‘best’ singer songwriters. For example, despite the fanaticism displayed by several friends, and despite being a contemporary, I never really got or got into Nick Cave - apart from the couple of extraordinary songs, like Mercy Seat or Into Your Arms which, OK, I agree, explain his place in the scheme of things. Live, I find him to be a self indulgent wanker with an awesomely good and very tolerant band. Bob Dylan similarly divides people (I love him) and I once fell out with a dear friend for almost a year because he persisted in disliking Billy Bragg, who of course, in my opinion can’t be faulted and is not to be criticised despite a dodgy voice and a habit of bashing you around the head with his ideals and opinions.
Is Jimi Hendrix a singer/songwriter? I’d say yes, and unlike others (with maybe the exception of some of Neil Young’s tracks) his music and guitar is what grips my soul first and then with time the lyrics follow – well the ones that are comprehensible, the others just set your soul free.
Honesty is a must, according to Australian Idol you have to believe in what you sing about to sell records. I’d go one further and say I prefer people to sing about what they have lived and experienced and really care about - Johnny Cash or Hank Williams being the classic examples that spring to mind. People singing other people’s songs confuse the issue for me though, I love Ryan Adams’ version of Wonderwall.. but does that mean I’m an Oasis fan because the words speak to me – or is it just Adams who brings them to life? Someone new can change the whole meaning of a song, like Johnny Cash again, his rendering of Hurt, especially with that video clip brings me to tears every time and whatever meaning the song had for Trent Reznor has been wiped from my mind.
Someone like KD Lang has it all, the heavenly voice, the beautiful turn of musical and lyrical phrase and the conviction that transports the listener to another world, she can make anyone's words her own. On the other hand, Billy Bragg and Joe Strummer, two of my heroes, are definitely at their best singing their own material. Voices not so great, music pretty simple, with or without a band, it doesn’t really matter - there is something that reaches directly into my mind as if the words had been written for me.. and indeed, being almost a direct contemporary, they might well have been. Their musical and lyrical journeys reflect my own, from anger and idealism to introspection, to grappling with life, politics and relationships as one moves into middle age.
Which brings me to British singer/songwriter Frank Turner, who has captured my attention to the point where I have just finished playing his album Love, Ire and Song for the 6th time in a row. In his late 20’s, he is politically from the left and has more in common biographically with Strummer than Billy Bragg – coming from an upper middle class background and then sliding from a hardcore band in his case to being a solo performer.
He writes more about life than politics, but politics are implicit and present in his songs. I have only, so far, heard the one album – and I see there is a more recent and earlier releases, but the impression I have is that he has reached that point of life when the realisation that passion and anger are not enough to change the world hits home, when friends either die or move on to suburbia, suits and sameness; when loneliness may no longer be assuaged by wild nights but a one night stand is still exciting enough to make settling down look boring. In short, its that time we all went through (or will go through) where you begin to question everything: your past, your future, your world, your friends and what the hell the point of you exactly is.
Playing Strummer’s last album - The Mescalero’s Streetcore, straight after Turner’s Love Ire and Song or any of Bragg's albums, underlines the similarities in voice and sentiment. It’s the little things these guys notice, personal reactions to things are often wittily relayed, and the examination of oneself, one’s peers and the times is honest but never sickly or self indulgent.
Thoughts and observations are encapsulated in cleverly chosen words that paint a picture rather than spell out the whole bloody story. Strummer, looking back on events of his life (Coma Girl) and Turner looking forward to maturity and fighting against being forced to ‘grow up’ (Photosynthesis). Billy Bragg released ‘Talking with the taxman about poetry’ at about the same age Turner is now, and ‘Greetings to the New Brunette’ and ‘Wishing the Days away’ seem come from the same place in a young man’s life.
As with many of his peers, and unlike a young Bragg or Strummer, Turner is not especially angry, but he does have the bouncy phrasing and way with words of Billy Bragg and a better voice than either of them. As with the bard from Barking, I like Turner’s wordplay, the conciseness of his lyrics, and the way the music is just enough.. catchy and tuneful and thankfully not over indulgent or overwrought. Its singalong or quietly melancholy stuff rather than the soaring heights of Lang or Buckley, and there is little of the self indulgence but some of the self examination of Adams.
There are moments on the album that made me wish I was 28 again, and moments that make me glad I’m not, lyrics that make me feel guilty for not achieving my potential and sometimes settling for mediocrity, and songs that bring back bittersweet memories of dead friends and long nights in pubs solving the problems of the world.
So there you have it, my version of an album review, with rather too many comparisons to do justice to the uniqueness of Turner, apologies for that. Have a listen, maybe you’ll like it, maybe you won’t, I’d love to know what you think.
I’m hoping he will tour here soon so I can see the live Frank Turner. My guess is he will be more the avuncular, have a beer with the punters type than the grumpy loner or tortured artist, but who knows, maybe he’ll play with the lights out and flounce off stage like Ryan Adams.
Whether fronting a band or sitting on a stool strumming, the singer/songwriter or solo performer creates a far more intimate one to one connection with the listener or audience. I prefer the sound of Ryan Adams when he plays with The Cardinals and Steve Earle when he plays with The Dukes, both amazing bands - but the focus remains front and centre. Its their words and their voice I want to hear, and the relationship I have as a listener/admirer is with the man not the band. This can, in the case of bratty geniuses like Ryan Adams, grumps like Neil Young and Bob Dylan or dead people like Jeff Buckley, Gram Parsons, Joe Strummer and Johnny Cash be somewhat fraught with tension or sadness.
The singer songwriter with whom you bond can be a wonderful and inspiring companion, but I am at a loss to really quantify what separates the few I love from the many I just find blah. If you want to start an argument in a pub amongst a group of music lovers, begin a discussion on who are the ‘best’ singer songwriters. For example, despite the fanaticism displayed by several friends, and despite being a contemporary, I never really got or got into Nick Cave - apart from the couple of extraordinary songs, like Mercy Seat or Into Your Arms which, OK, I agree, explain his place in the scheme of things. Live, I find him to be a self indulgent wanker with an awesomely good and very tolerant band. Bob Dylan similarly divides people (I love him) and I once fell out with a dear friend for almost a year because he persisted in disliking Billy Bragg, who of course, in my opinion can’t be faulted and is not to be criticised despite a dodgy voice and a habit of bashing you around the head with his ideals and opinions.
Is Jimi Hendrix a singer/songwriter? I’d say yes, and unlike others (with maybe the exception of some of Neil Young’s tracks) his music and guitar is what grips my soul first and then with time the lyrics follow – well the ones that are comprehensible, the others just set your soul free.
Honesty is a must, according to Australian Idol you have to believe in what you sing about to sell records. I’d go one further and say I prefer people to sing about what they have lived and experienced and really care about - Johnny Cash or Hank Williams being the classic examples that spring to mind. People singing other people’s songs confuse the issue for me though, I love Ryan Adams’ version of Wonderwall.. but does that mean I’m an Oasis fan because the words speak to me – or is it just Adams who brings them to life? Someone new can change the whole meaning of a song, like Johnny Cash again, his rendering of Hurt, especially with that video clip brings me to tears every time and whatever meaning the song had for Trent Reznor has been wiped from my mind.
Someone like KD Lang has it all, the heavenly voice, the beautiful turn of musical and lyrical phrase and the conviction that transports the listener to another world, she can make anyone's words her own. On the other hand, Billy Bragg and Joe Strummer, two of my heroes, are definitely at their best singing their own material. Voices not so great, music pretty simple, with or without a band, it doesn’t really matter - there is something that reaches directly into my mind as if the words had been written for me.. and indeed, being almost a direct contemporary, they might well have been. Their musical and lyrical journeys reflect my own, from anger and idealism to introspection, to grappling with life, politics and relationships as one moves into middle age.
Which brings me to British singer/songwriter Frank Turner, who has captured my attention to the point where I have just finished playing his album Love, Ire and Song for the 6th time in a row. In his late 20’s, he is politically from the left and has more in common biographically with Strummer than Billy Bragg – coming from an upper middle class background and then sliding from a hardcore band in his case to being a solo performer.
He writes more about life than politics, but politics are implicit and present in his songs. I have only, so far, heard the one album – and I see there is a more recent and earlier releases, but the impression I have is that he has reached that point of life when the realisation that passion and anger are not enough to change the world hits home, when friends either die or move on to suburbia, suits and sameness; when loneliness may no longer be assuaged by wild nights but a one night stand is still exciting enough to make settling down look boring. In short, its that time we all went through (or will go through) where you begin to question everything: your past, your future, your world, your friends and what the hell the point of you exactly is.
Playing Strummer’s last album - The Mescalero’s Streetcore, straight after Turner’s Love Ire and Song or any of Bragg's albums, underlines the similarities in voice and sentiment. It’s the little things these guys notice, personal reactions to things are often wittily relayed, and the examination of oneself, one’s peers and the times is honest but never sickly or self indulgent.
Thoughts and observations are encapsulated in cleverly chosen words that paint a picture rather than spell out the whole bloody story. Strummer, looking back on events of his life (Coma Girl) and Turner looking forward to maturity and fighting against being forced to ‘grow up’ (Photosynthesis). Billy Bragg released ‘Talking with the taxman about poetry’ at about the same age Turner is now, and ‘Greetings to the New Brunette’ and ‘Wishing the Days away’ seem come from the same place in a young man’s life.
As with many of his peers, and unlike a young Bragg or Strummer, Turner is not especially angry, but he does have the bouncy phrasing and way with words of Billy Bragg and a better voice than either of them. As with the bard from Barking, I like Turner’s wordplay, the conciseness of his lyrics, and the way the music is just enough.. catchy and tuneful and thankfully not over indulgent or overwrought. Its singalong or quietly melancholy stuff rather than the soaring heights of Lang or Buckley, and there is little of the self indulgence but some of the self examination of Adams.
There are moments on the album that made me wish I was 28 again, and moments that make me glad I’m not, lyrics that make me feel guilty for not achieving my potential and sometimes settling for mediocrity, and songs that bring back bittersweet memories of dead friends and long nights in pubs solving the problems of the world.
So there you have it, my version of an album review, with rather too many comparisons to do justice to the uniqueness of Turner, apologies for that. Have a listen, maybe you’ll like it, maybe you won’t, I’d love to know what you think.
I’m hoping he will tour here soon so I can see the live Frank Turner. My guess is he will be more the avuncular, have a beer with the punters type than the grumpy loner or tortured artist, but who knows, maybe he’ll play with the lights out and flounce off stage like Ryan Adams.
Tuesday, 8 September 2009
More Music - Something new from Newcastle.
Caught an interesting new band on the weekend - The Evening Son, from Newcastle. I know little about them, but they managed to hold my attention through a support set at the beginning of a long night. Rock, essentially, not incredibly heavy and quite melodic.. a bit stoner rock, not grunge but harking back to the post grunge era.. maybe a bit Pearl Jam - the singer certainly has a mellow voice reminiscent of Vedder. Relaxed and confident stage presence with lots to look at, tight, professional and musically ambitious.. definitely worth keeping an eye on!
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