Sunday Diva/Three From The Hip: Pat Benatar

Sunday Diva/Three From The Hip: 

Pat Benatar

In my own personal big gay church there are many wings. One is dedicated to The Rockbirds - so named after a turn of phrase coined by Deborah Harry, one of the divas who resides there. These ladies raged against a very specific machine: the misogynistic heart of the corporate music business. They endured countless interviews asking them how they felt being a woman in the world of rock n' roll - the assumption being that it was exclusively a man's world. Are they the women of rock? Hell, no... they just rock! And they did it all with a singular style and unique voice.

One such Rockbird?

The electric Pat Benatar.

She remains a true rock 'n roll juggernaut, Unstoppable.

She burst on the scene and immediately made it her own. Those who doubted her staying power were quickly silenced and proven wrong.

She dared. She defied. And she survived.

For this diva is still going strong, touring on a regular basis... and that voice remains the same.

So many octaves! Such dedication. Such authority.

Rock 'n roll owes a huge debt to this lady. 

For, while there have been many imitators, there was only one original. 

She didn't break the mold...

She created it.

The gospel according to her?

Well, here are three from the hip, dropping from her lips.

The topic? Living Without A Handbook

"First of all, I'm pretty private about my personal life."

"It was very difficult when I was trying to figure out how to have a marriage and babies and do this at the same time. There was no handbook. You were making it up as you went along."

"Everything changes all the time, and unfortunately, everyone who knows what you do by buying records only hears a small amount of what's going on in your life."

"People's lives change dramatically over such a long time period, and I think that if you're still vital, and you're still interested in writing and things like that, of course your music evolves and reflects where you are in your life."

"Hell is for Children is amazing to do every night and Promises in the Dark  and  Love Is a Battlefield,  of course, but my absolute favorite would be Heartbreaker. It's the one that started everything, so it has a very special place in my heart. And it still rocks every night! It's so fun to do."

"When the first record came out, I'd go down to radio stations pretty much every day to get the record played, and I would walk in and they'd tell us how much they loved the record, but they weren't sure how much they could play it because they were already playing a girl."

"I never looked at people or singing as commodities."

"If you're retired, it's a blessing. You know, if you want to keep working and doing what you want to do, it's not a blessing at all - it's a curse."

"You don't want to trash what you've done; that's your history." 

"But the soul of touring and the heart of it is basically every day is like putting up a circus tent."

"When you have girl children, they torture you! If at any moment of the day I ever think I'm remotely cool at all, which is hardly ever, I have two daughters who make sure that never happens. They say, 'Mom, you didn't really wear that?' And I say, 'Yes, and pretty much everyone saw it.'"
 

Heartbreaker - Pat Benatar

Love Is A Battlefield

Sex As A Weapon - Pat Benatar

"I wasn't a visionary but I literally had my finger on the pulse of the women of America."

"Most chick singers say 'if you hurt me, I'll die'... I say, 'if you hurt me, I'll kick your ass.'"

Sunday Diva/Three From The Hip: Laura Branigan

Sunday Diva/Three From The Hip: 

Laura Branigan

In my big gay church, there are many, many wings. One is dedicated to those referred to as Forever Our Girls. They are the girls next door. The ones who seemed accessible, real and a part of every day life while stealing our hearts with their girlish charms. And they did it all wrapped up in the trappings of whatever was topping the charts at the time. Sounds changed. Styles came and went, but the one thing that remained constant? Their voice.

One such aching songstress?

Laura Branigan.

After an abortive start, the lady hit it big, right out the gate.

Gloria was everywhere, and for good reason; it was fun and catchy as hell.

In fact, this diva had a way with finding tunes that resonated on the radio and in dance clubs.

It was the kind of Euro pop that her incredible pipes leant just the right edge to.

However, she also had a softer side, for this beauty adored her ballads.

With a tremolo so tight, and a knowing ache in her throat, she could weave the story of a heartbreak like very few. 

We lost her quite suddenly, unexpectedly and much too soon.

Still, her legacy lives on, as does the adoration of her fans.

The gospel according to her?

Well, here are three from the hip, dropping from her lips.

The topic? The Universal Language of Music

"I've always loved music, but growing up, I was painfully shy. I could never imagine having the courage to stand up on stage, alone. I favored sports. In fact when I was in high school, we received a proposition for me to train to get into the American team for the Olympic Games... in two specialties; swimming and running! You see, I was really far from the idea of becoming a performer."

"I was in the choir, in my high school and I had a great singing teacher. In fact, it was that teacher who convinced me that music was my life. Thanks that intervention, I realized that my shyness vanished completely when I was on stage. So I dropped the out of the top-level sport. Though, while continuing to play squash and tennis, I devoted myself fully to what has to become my life. I also took some acting classes... which today, is very useful to me."

"When you're on stage, the audience becomes your other half. It's the ultimate high you can reach as a musician - an incredible feeling. And no matter where I am it's still the same; there's a reason we call music the universal language."

"There's nothing more satisfying for a vocalist, to find a song that's just packed with all of that emotion and have the vocal range as well. So that you're completely wrung dry when you're through singing it. I think that pain is the greatest, the most powerful emotion in the world. Reaching an audience through pain... the greatest thing is to see them sit there and cry."

"I want to move people the way Edith Piaf did."

"I want to touch people's hearts, to get right down to their souls.

Gloria - Laura Branigan

Self Control - Laura Branigan

Moonlight On The Water - Laura Branigan

And one last parting shot...

"Everybody's been through love and pain in their lives, and that's what music is about."

Sunday Diva/Three From The Hip: Kim Carnes

Sunday Diva/Three From The Hip: 

Kim Carnes

In my own, personal, big gay church, there is a wing dedicated to Those of the Heart. These are the singers, songwriters and muses who have spent a lifetime capturing various aspects of the human condition. Frequently, due to the whims of the music industry, their lives were not always their own... but they persevered... ultimately remaining true to their roles as seers of the heart. 

One such soul?

Kim Carnes

With a smoky-hued, brittle voice unlike any other, she became part of our collective cultural psyche via the radio and MTV. 

And if you were in need of a duet partner? Who better?

She was also a talented songwriter, gifting other artists with songs which helped make them both relevant and iconic. 

A consummate professional, she remained, at all times, true to her own vision of herself, her art and her music.

Fashions come and go. The public has a fickle heart. But time cannot diminish true talent.

For a time, she blazed an amazing trail and to this day, remains a one of a kind artist. 

The gospel according to her?

Well, here are three from the hip, dropping from her lips.

The topic? Bette Davis Eyes

"George Tobin had played me a Jackie DeShannon demo that was completely different, It was all major chords, not minor, but the lyric killed me. Just the title: a song called Bette Davis Eyes? I’m interested! I kept saying to George, ‘I want to do that song!’ All of a sudden, it disappeared and he kept changing the subject."

"Donna Weiss, who wrote all the lyrics, called me and said, ‘Is it true that George Tobin played you Bette Davis Eyes and that you really loved it? I said, ‘Yes! Oh my gosh, I’d forgotten about it.’ She said, ‘Well, the reason why George never brought it up again is because he came to me and said that he could get you to do this song if we gave him half the publishing. Jackie and I wouldn’t do it.' Thankfully, it didn’t happen.”

"We worked (on it) for about three or four days. Because I like to record live, we would go in and rehearse before going on the road to get all the arrangements right and then go into the studio. It took a few days to figure out what we were going to do with it."

"I knew I was passionate for the song but we had to change it. After several days, we finally came up with the right arrangement, the chords, and when I recorded it, everybody knew; the band, myself, Val Garay, who produced the album. We all went, ‘This is it.’ Then we went in the next day and got it on the second take."

"We knew when we cut it that we had a winner. Beyond a doubt, we all really knew it. By the time it came out, so many people were convinced, but then there was talk at the record company of something else being the first single. I don’t think I’ve ever fought so hard for anything. Fortunately, it all worked out."

"When it happened, it happened really quickly. I mean, we didn’t wait to see if it was gonna be a big record. It was really fast, everywhere. Life got really crazy and really good. For the first time, (instead of) being an opening act for (other) people, I could headline and people coming to see us. And that was really fun. That changed touring, that changed the shows."

One thing that surprised me when I came to Europe to promote that song and that album. I was really surprised at the reaction I got in Europe, Everybody knew it and I would walk down the street and everybody would say hello and knew... And that was the biggest surprise. I had no idea, how big it was."

More Love - Kim Carnes

Bette Davis Eyes - Kim Carnes

Crazy In The Night (Barking At Airplanes) - Kim Carnes

And one last parting shot...

"The friendship that occurred because of that song between me and Bette Davis, that is maybe the best thing that came out of this record. 'Cause it’s so special. She was so great. She was so incredibly gracious. You know the first communication, she wrote a note saying 'Thank you for finally giving me credibility with my grandson.' Which was so bizarre. She was Bette Davis." 

"She would call me if I did I did a TV-show and she saw it, just called up and said: 'Hey Kim, this is Miss Davis and I just saw your TV-show and I loved it, I thought it was wonderful.' I’d get off the phone and just scream."

"It was huge. She was very generous with me. She loved the disc. When I went to take it to her house, she wanted to frame it to put it on the wall. When I was having a platinum album, single, whatever I would take it to her house and she would get out the hammer and nails and put it on the wall herself."  

"We spent hours and hours together in which she talked about her beginnings in the movies. And she was so gracious to me. It was incredible. We had a great friendship until she died. She was just a wonderful lady. And when I first walked into her apartment, the first thing I saw was a pillow, embroidered, that said: 'No guts, no glory.' How perfect. It’s Bette Davis, you know."

Sunday Diva/Three From The Hip: Martha Davis

Sunday Diva/Three From The Hip: 

Martha Davis

In my own personal big gay church there are many wings. One is dedicated to The Rockbirds - so named after a turn of phrase coined by Debbie Harry, one of the divas who resides there. These ladies raged against a very specific machine: the misogynistic heart of the corporate music business. They endured countless interviews asking them how they felt being a woman in the world of rock n' roll - the assumption being that it was exclusively a man's world. Are they the women of rock? Hell, no... they just rock! And they did it all with a singular style and unique voice.

One such diva?

Martha Davis.

Smokey, seductive and... slightly dangerous.

The vision of a siren from film noir, she planted her persona like a fingerprint on the stage of L.A.'s Madame Wong's, catapulting into the mainstream by way of a record deal and MTV. 

Was it a natural fit? Not according to her. 

With success came expectations to conform. Soon, all that had once made her edgy had been worn smooth. 

Too smooth.

Separating her from the band she loved was the final straw. She left the record label, determined to find her way back to herself, back to a time when she was...

....not tied to the earth.

The gospel according to her?

Well, here are three from the hip, dropping from her lips.

The topic? Stravinsky.

"I remember being 8 or 9 at home and it was raining. I was wearing this yellow tutu. I push away all the furniture and rugs from the living room and put on my mom’s old 78s. One of the records was Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring. When I put that on, that was the first time I ever felt like I was in outer space—like I had literally left my body. I was not tied to the earth."

"I can’t say there are particular ‘influences’ that stand out. I think various parts of all the music I love enter into my writing, from Stravinsky to Sondheim. When I write I never try to control the muse, they pretty much manhandle me. I go where they lead and sometimes they lead back in time."

"Even with that song (Only The Lonely) it was the first time we had a hit, it definitely was not what I was envisioning for myself and then as time goes on, you get a hit so they say, 'Oh, I guess this is working, that’s what we’re supposed to be doing', it became more and more in that direction MOR (middle of the road)."

"So as the career went on and the records stayed … I actually started feeling not as happy with the direction of the music. It wasn’t satisfying that weird itch, you know? That thing where you want to do something different with the music? It was very homogenous and very safe. And I don’t like safe—never have."

"I've always tried to write that way - raw, kind of lyrical. Probably thanks to Stravinsky I like to try to throw in notes that create that dissonance and that rubbing that creates tension. When you’re doing it, you’re always your own worst critic."

Only The Lonely - The Motels

Don't Tell Me The Time - Martha Davis 

Mr. Grey - Martha Davis

And one last parting shot...

"Any artist will tell you … a lot of it is hard work but a lot of it is being open to these things that are floating around. When they decide to land on you you’re a lucky person. When I wrote Only the Lonely I literally picked up my guitar and it was sitting there. It was complete in form. I wrote down the lyrics that were coming out. I wrote down the chords. Except that one little crazy high note that everyone’s so nuts for was an accident in the studio."

Sunday Diva/Three From the Hip: Heart

Sunday Diva/Three From the Hip: 

Heart

In my own personal big gay church there are many wings. One is dedicated to The Rockbirds - so named after a turn of phrase coined by Debbie Harry, one of the divas who resides there. These ladies raged against a very specific machine: the misogynistic heart of the corporate music business. 

They endured countless interviews asking them how they felt being a woman in the world of rock n' roll - the assumption being that it was exclusively a man's world. Are they the women of rock? Hell, no... they just rock! And they did it all with a singular style and unique voice.

Two such divas... Heart.

For Ann and Nancy Wilson, breaking molds came easy. Overcoming decades of chauvinistic bullshit?

Not so much.

But these sisters had no other choice... for them? It was all about the music. 

Yes, it was do or die... and they did it - did it big. 

Unfortunately, the corporate machine was only concerned with counting calories, image and making bank. 

If the 70's were all about proving themselves while cutting classic cuts and selling records?

Then the 80's were all about big hair, corsets, videos and selling... out. 

The 80's were also about coming to terms with who they were and who they definitely, definitively...

...were not. 

And while they walked away from the game, they didn't go far. 

Hell, for them?  It was only the beginning of act three. 

What bridge to cross.. what bridge to burn?

Indeed.

The gospel according to them? 

Well, here are three from the hip, dropping from their lips. 

The topic? Their Journey 

"We were wild-eyed hippies from the late '60s. We still had the exuberance of the mind-expanding '60s - that Tolkien-esque, Zeppelin, androgynous, wood nymph, forest fairy kind of innocence. It sounds stupid now, but we felt we were changing the world with music. There were not very many girls in rock n' roll together with men that had a heavy rock sound as well as a more acoustic sound like Heart.

We had the idea as women that we could walk into music and be good at it and be as good as any man and have a career in it without being taken advantage of. So basically, those things came true. The obstacle course was just more difficult than we ever anticipated. We were optimistic and very naïve. 

Sleazy people are always in this business. They run the business, pretty much. There are a lot of barracudas." - Nancy

"It was darn nigh impossible for women in rock in the '70s. There wasn't a mold if you were a woman and you were in the entertainment (industry) in the '70s. You were probably a disco diva or a folk singer, or simply ornamental. Radio would play only one woman per hour.

Back when we were first making records, you didn't just make the music, you put a great deal of energy into the way it looked, and every word that was written on the whole thing." - Ann

"Fame put a lot of pressure on me in the 80's and early 90's and I'm glad that I had the kind of makeup where I could come through it alive, keep myself in hand.

Music became less understandable in the wake of the new MTV era. You weren't supposed to be anything other than a pop star, to not go deeper than that. It was really strange. It was suffocating, image-wise. What you could talk about in a song changed; if you were misunderstood, you were really misunderstood - taken literally.

You have to also provide a video for it, look a certain way and big hair. If you're a woman it's even more strange with fake fingernails and corsets and all this stuff that was big in the 80's.

People talk about each other in the worst way, especially when you become a product for sale. You're just a thing. - Ann 

Crazy On You - Heart

There's The Girl - Heart

WTF - Heart

And one more from the hip, from Nancy...

"We didn't want to be the girlfriends of the Beatles. We wanted to be the Beatles."

Weekend Onesie: Da Da Da

Weekend Onesie: 

Da Da Da 

My Weekend Onesie is a video this week!

Da Da Da - Trio

I happened on it when researching this week's Who Did It Better. This is the song that Pink Project mashed up with Falco's Der Kommisar to create Der Da Da Da. I felt it my duty to track it down,,, and so glad I did.

I must say, my jaw dropped and my mouth remained open when I first watched Trio's video.

Amazingly - in April of 1982, this was a major hit in 30 countries. 

It reached #3 in Canada. It reached #2 in Britain.

Gobsmacked.

And fascinating, yes?

Like a installation piece at a modern art museum. It's a time capsule.

I... can't... stop... watching... it...

--- ---

Have a lovely weekend, dear ones.

Life is getting better and better. 

Let's remain grateful for all that we do have!

- uptonking from Wonderland Burlesque

Who Did It Better? Der Kommissar/Der Da Da Da/Deep In The Dark

Who Did It Better? 

Der Kommissar/Der Da Da Da/Deep In The Dark

This is a bit of stretch, but a fun one. They are all within a certain musical time frame and somewhat inter-related, so let's allow it.

This is a song with an interesting history... one that almost didn't happen, or would have certainly ended up very differently had certain mitigating factors not been in play. 

Written in 1981 by Falco and producer Robert Ponger, the song was initially offered to another artist, but was rejected. Falco then reworked the song and recorded it himself.

Recorded in German, the song hit #1 in Germany and had also charted in several European countries by June of 1982. However, it gained zero traction in the states or Britain. In an attempt to remedy this, Falco would eventually record an English language version. 

An English language version was recorded by the British band After The Fire for their debut album. They'd just finished a tour supporting Van Halen and had released the song as a single, but it didn't seem to be going anywhere, so, in December of 1982, the band announced they were breaking up. 

As that was going on, Laura Brannigan was in the midst of recording a follow-up album to her debut. The song had been tapped for her with different lyrics and rechristened Deep In The Dark. It was set to be the lead single.

Adding to the fun...  Pink Project (taking their name from their first mashup: Pink Floyd vs. Alan Parson's Project) - an early '80s Italian dance group creating floor stompers for clubs, lifted pieces of Der Kommissar and mashed it to Trio's Da Da Da to come up with a 1982 single Der Da Da Da. They'd had success with other mashups, but this one never amounted to more than a club favorite.

So, at this point, the song has been around for awhile and still not broken big in the states. End of story?

Enter the power of MTV. 

After The Fire's video ended up in high rotation and this spurred sales and radio play. The song finally entered the U.S. charts on February 22nd of 1983. Their version would stay in Billboard's Top 40 for 14 weeks, peaking at #5. CBS/Epic, the band's label, begged them to reunite, but no dice. 

After The Fire's success, in turn, sparked renewed interest in Falco's version and Falco in general. Still in German (although he would eventually record an English language version), it was considered something of a novelty record - except in Canada, where it peaked at #11 the same week After The Fire's version peaked at #12. But don't feel bad for Falco. All this attention paved the way for his future success which came shortly after in the form of Rock Me Amadeus and Vienna Calling.  

Meanwhile, Brannigan's label had released promotional copies of  Deep in the Dark in the U.K. where neither version of Der Kommissar had charted. But, given After The Fire's success in the states, they decided to push Solitaire, instead. It was a wise move, as Solitaire would eventually peak at #7.

So, there's the whole story... now, on to the competition:

The Song: Der Kommissar/Der Da Da Da/Deep In The Dark

The Competitors: Falco vs. Pink Project vs. After The Fire vs. Laura Brannigan

Here we go...

--- ---

Der Kommissar - Falco

Der Da Da Da - Pink Project

Der Kommissar - After The Fire

Deep In The Dark - Laura Brannigan

--- ---

Intro: 32 seconds. Falco - that handclap on the accent beat wears out its welcome really fast. Love the synths just before the title of the song. I am also amazed that the guitar riff that holds together the verse isn't sampled more often. Know what? Given the time period, this is pretty awesome stuff. I enjoy the energy. The la, la, la's are super funny. I like!

Intro: 44 seconds. The overall sound feels very slight, not as deeply trenched as either Falco's or ATF's version. The tempo also feels a tad too fast. The talk box/neoprene tube vocals are annoying, messy and dated. At times it almost sounds like the synth used for the early synth classic Popcorn is going to kick in and take over at any moment (something I would actually applaud). The synths used during the chorus are a bit disappointing/underwhelming. Too wimpy. I want more bottom, more drama, more crunch.

Intro: 47 seconds. The sound is brighter than Falco's version. That handclap accent almost sounds more like the shutter of a camera going off - which given the international intrigue angle, works well. Interesting ambient sounds float in and out throughout the intro. The rapping/spoken word portion made me think of Tonneloke (not a good thing). The lead singer/rapper's speaking voice is very guttural, very thick sounding, so not what I expected. That repeated guitar riff after "the faster you will die" (just before the title of the song) makes me think of Boomtown by David & David (so they cribbed it from this song!). During the break when it sounds like the band is saying "Chuck, Chuck, Chuck" there's that weird little Hammond organ seven count - that is funny! Then the comb harp cracks me up. The production is so quirky. They don't have any fun with the la, la, la's - which makes me sad. They should start the fade out at the 3:35 mark... this overstays it's welcome while adding nothing. It's all very messy at times. After listening to this very closely... I can see why the group disbanded and refused to reunite. This is a trifle and I can't imagine building a career off it. 

Intro: 32 seconds. "Check it out, Joe..." Once we get beyond the first eight bars (which I like) this  feels plenty draggy. The pop is not there and that chunky synth bass sounds hollow and messy. Unfortunately, Brannigan is pushed into her upper register and, as is typical, it does not flatter - it sounds like it hurts. I do like the way her voice breaks during the verse when she sings. That said, the rest of the time she doesn't sing so much as bleat... like a goat (Stevie Nicks does the same thing) and her spoken word stuff is ho-hum. Hmm. So, I liked Brannigan's version better when I was listening to it the other week on a compilation CD of her stuff. It does not hold up well against the other three versions. I'm glad Atlantic Records went with Solitaire instead, because this is not one of her better moments.

The Verdict: 

I don't much care for spoken word/lame rap. So that may be coloring my opinion a lot. The song is really nothing more than a couple of very clever riffs stitched together. This is definitely a quintessential early '80s moment.

I am surprised, but I have to hand this one to Falco. 

The German language adds a lot of crunch to his version. Also, his production is more streamlined and cleaner. So the contrast between the two works to his advantage.

While I appreciate the kitchen sink approach ATF brings to the table, their main vocalist/rapper bothers me. His delivery feels leaden. They also lost points for the extended intro and outro. Project Pink's version is a tad too novel for my taste. And, as I said, this isn't Brannigan's best moment.

So, Falco wins by default. 

Rock me, Amadeus. 

--- --

Okay, your turn. Let me know what you think. Leave your thoughts in the comments section. Hate the song? Love it? Remember it? Let me know. I love hearing what you have to say. 

That's it for this week. 

Until next time...

...thanks for reading.   

Wonderland Burlesque's The 12 Days Before Xmas - Day Three - Max Headron

Wonderland Burlesque's 

The 12 Days Before Xmas - Day Three

Max Headroom

Today marks day number three of  Wonderland Burlesque's The 12 Days Before Xmas. The powers that be television actually gave Max Headroom his own 40-minute Xmas special: The Max Headroom Christmas Special. It premiered in the U.S. on December 18, 1986. In Britain, it debuted on Boxing Day, 1986 as Max Headroom's Giant Christmas Turkey (perhaps a more accurate title?). 

This song, Merry Christmas Santa Claus, pretty much sums up the whole debacle. In it, our disembodied, computer-generated friend manages to meld the concept of commercialized Santa with the story of the Nativity - because synthesis is at the very heart of the spirit behind the season and a very '80s concept - and ends up with something that is just as much of a mess as one would expect. 

Nothing says 'Have a Merry Little Xmas' more than a man who stutters and smiles while uttering the word 'colostomy'.

Merry Christmas Santa Clause - Max Headroom

Disposable Music

There was a time in my life when a song could rule my every waking moment. Music infused my life – each happenstance a musical cue – it was a soundtrack complete with montages, chases, tender moments of realization, and, above all else, the stirrings of love (or lust). The music meant something and the lyrics were potent and important.

This was during a time when the concept of ‘selling-out’ was something no authentic artist would ever consider. The idea of commercializing a song they wrote – had given birth to - was tantamount to the desecration of the holy. True inspiration and revolutionary innovation were made of the mind, blood, body and spirit – not technology. The qualities that made a song resonate across the airwaves for generations were human ones – very human.

But no more.

Now everything is technical. Everything is commercial. Everything is disposable. And, thanks to the practice of sampling – everything old is new again – or so they would like us to believe – but it’s not.

We live in an age of disposable music. Music created in such sheer volume that one song barely has time to register on the cultural horizon before being replaced by something just as marginal, just as meaningless. Music isn’t ‘catchy’ anymore, it’s frequently merely irritating. Yes, it gets under your skin, like ringworm.

When was the integrity of music replaced by commercialization?

It can be traced back to the 70’s. Disco was the first blow to the empire. Not that there weren’t disco songs with integrity – there were tons of R&B-driven, funky grooves to be sure, but at one point the proliferation of disco albums far exceeded the appetites of its audience. I remember seeing discs dedicated to the idea of ‘the disco opera’ incorporating themes like ‘Dracula’ and featuring song titles like ‘Suck, Baby, Suck’. Kitschy now. Anathema then.

The subsequent backlash was huge. Integrity reared its ugly head in the form of a couple of enterprising radio DJ’s who organized the first ‘Disco Sucks’ demonstration whereby a pile of donated disco albums were run over with a steam roller during the halftime of a local baseball game. It was a shot heard round the world. Disco was dead. Integrity was back.

But it didn’t die. It simply changed its name to ‘Dance Music’. And, as with disco, while there is still the occasional undeniable gem (Suzanne Palmer’s ‘Home’ for example), so much of this genre holds about as much cultural significance as Paris Hilton.

The next step in this rampant disregard for the value of music came, not from the artists, but from corporations. During the 80’s we saw the rise of the corporation as svengali, wielding their financial might as a means of controlling artistic expression. Music became product – success a matter of the financial, not the critical.

Clive Davis, once a talent maverick for Columbia records, would now ask that many of the established female vocalists he signed to the Arista label be remolded in order to maximize, not artistry, but selling power. This frequently meant that these women had to turn their backs on their considerable writing talents (Melissa Manchester, Jennifer Warnes) or previous wealth of work (Aretha Franklin, Dionne Warwick) and submit to the whims and desires of the powers that be in the corporate office in order to obtain financial success. Those that failed to comply and/or flourish were dropped quickly – this being true of men and groups as well. It was - play by our rules or we won’t promote your music. Discord was frequent. So were label changes.

There were exceptions to these rules – chiefly brought about by numerous independent labels – where innovation still ruled the day. Unfortunately these lights of hope were frequently short-lived or extinguished. They either perished due to poor business practices (lack of financing, lack of distribution) or were gobbled up by the major labels in order for the major to glean the artistic glow of the minor. This made way for the age of acquisitions – when even former major players like EMI, Mercury, and Arista would be swallowed whole by conglomerates with faceless names like Universal, Sony, Polygram, and BMG.

But business practices alone would not account for the lack of integrity popular music would succumb to.

The promotion of style over substance created a generation – an MTV generation. Visuals and pyrotechnics substituted for artistry. The gift-wrap became more important than the actual gift.

Technology would also play a part – computers would make it much more affordable and easier to recreate sounds, splice sounds, manipulate sounds. Manipulation of vocal tone, quality and pitch has become an accepted practice. Indeed, now anyone can ‘do it’.

Encouraged by accountants and corporate conglomerated labels – artistry has fallen by the wayside. The concept of ‘selling-out’ is no longer considered such a bad thing. The Beatles catalog, now in the hands of Michael Jackson and those to whom he owes a lot of money, has been licensed to sell cars on television and a ‘Cirque Due So Lame’ touring phenom. Perhaps integrity died on a sidewalk in New York – or perhaps John Lennon would be just like everyone else and go for the gold that buys future security.

The Rolling Stones have begun licensing their music for use in movies and commercials. These are the same artists who once claimed they would rather be dead than be rocking at the age of 40. Hey, Mick? What time is it?

I watch television. I pay close attention to the commercials. If music videos were the great indicators of our cultural mindset in the 1980’s – then commercials are their 2006 equivalent. Goldfrapp is gaining considerable market recognition, thanks to their presence selling some new electronic all-in-one device and promoting the new season of FX’s popular (and admittedly shallow) Nip and Tuck series. Good for them. IPod commercials have broken a number of new acts and created life for songs that otherwise might have fallen through the cracks – sometimes I’m grateful, more often, not.

Yes, way back when… in the sixties – when many a rocker or songwriter mistrusted the establishment and its apparent desire for the commercialization of popular music – these misgivings were much more than mere poses. But alas, everything they once feared has come to pass. Music is now disposable. Little more than background noise to sell product. (For historical reference, please check out the original cover for The Who’s “The Who Sell Out” album). Little more than ring tones. Little more than a vehicle for promotion.

Ahhh, and I remember when we thought elevator music was the ultimate horror when it came to the devaluing of music.

Now where’s that steam roller?