I want to backtrack a couple of weeks following a reader’s response to The Breakdown in which I compared the career trajectory, marketing and media treatment of former American Idol contestant Adam Lambert and the openly gay early-‘70s glam singer Jobriath (3 March 2010). One of the issues the letter-writer, a self-confessed Lambert fan, took up with my assessment was that (and I’m paraphrasing; sorry, Chris) Lambert’s sexuality was apparent, if not out, at the beginning of the Idol season, making it a non-issue and one he chose not to represent himself with – therefore, Lambert should be taken solely on his artistic merit and any comparison based on one aspect of his life is redundant.
While I wish the last part were true for any musician who doesn’t wish to make their sexuality a part of their product (not many when it comes to certain kinds of pop music and I’d argue not true of Lambert – after all, he did pretend to give a dancer a blowie on international television) and concede that the right of comparison between Jobriath and Lambert is contentious (but I made my case and I’m sticking by it), it’s the suggestion that any musician can be received in culture purely on their artistic merits that really jars.
It’s the age-old plea of anyone who’s ever had to defend their favourite pop star against slop-slinging detractors – “But East 17 have really great songs; I don’t just love them for the way Brian Harvey gazes at me through the television screen while trying to play the piano with those ridiculously large rings on,” or, “I don’t care what you say about Lady Gaga, her songs are what make her a great pop star – just listen to her voice,” spoken by someone wearing underpants over their tights and soft drink cans in their hair. It might be patronising to say that fans have to defend the music of an act they ‘like’ because, if they didn’t admit to liking the music first, their love wouldn’t be artistically pure and would make them appear shallow or easily manipulated, but truly, has anyone actually heard Pink’s latest album?
But it goes deeper than that, even. Deeper than pop stars or their marketed images. If we think about the first time we heard any of the music we like – or, indeed, dislike – the process by which that music was presented to us undoubtedly had some effect on the way we assessed it. It could have been a radio station whose programming you generally trust; a friend who shares similar tastes in music or cultural products other than music; a website or blog you connect with on any level. Alternatively, it might have been through someone or something you despise. Personally, I’ve always thought I’d probably like Animal Collective a whole lot more had I not heard about them through a self-important wanker at a party. Ditto a whole lot of ‘underground’ Australian rock music that seems to foster the kind of pretentious, holier-than-thou money-shot conversations that make me long for my parents’ lounge room at age 14, their rundown old record player and a lazy Sunday afternoon.
The extension of this, despite my own whiny criticisms of it, is: why is there anything wrong with it? Why do we ever feel that we have to separate a musician’s music from the cultural construct is comes to us via? Music is not created in a vacuum, so why should it be received in one?
It’s OK to like a musician because some part of their image or video or personality connects with us, or because it’s a way to connect to someone else in our lives. It’s even better, perhaps, to be able to like some parts of a musician and dislike others. I hereby admit that I like Pink because she seems, in the media, funny and smarter than the average pop singer and plays with gender constructs in her shows and videos. And she’s hot. And fuck, I hate Lady Gaga because she’s an arrogant twat buying her way into the art world and purporting to create something original, even though I admire her ability to self-market and enjoy some of her songs, despite their lyrics not being as interesting as I wish they were.
As for East 17 – please, it was always about Brian.
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