Miscellaneous - September 2009

  by Lisa Torem

published: 27 / 8 / 2009

Article

Two Writers Season One Historic Rock Moment LISA Sabotage. You’ve done it before and you’ll do it again and again. You’ve got one match left and one cigarette. You stand in the pouring, thunderous rain and strike it anyway. You go to the job interview with your shirt inside-out. Oh, well, they’ll love me anyway. You engage in this behaviour knowing full well it leads to nowhere or worse, to devastation. Or, you’re a writer. You land the perfect interview with your idol. You prepare your questions, do your research and then stare into space until 4 a.m. slugging down molten java and in the morning? Oh, yeah, the interview? Should I have gotten more than two hours of sleep? But, sabotage has its charm. It’s a theme made poignant by scores of females rockers. Skim some of those lyrics and maybe figure out why human nature compels us to skate backwards when the blades are dull or decide to go Vegan on the day our lover’s mother invites us over for fillet mignon. “Everyday we crucify ourselves,” sings Tori Amos and we nod our heads and sing along and say, “oh, yeah, that’s right, isn’t it?” Joni Mitchell, in her song 'River' – complains about the very behaviour that drives away the best man she’s ever had. “I’m so hard to handle, I’m selfish and I’m sad Now I’ve lost the best baby, that I’ve ever had. Oh, I wish I had a river, I could skate away on…” And though she, remorsefully, admits she did her part to send him away, she remains the omnipotent observer: “Oh, I wish I had a river, I made my baby say goodbye.” Amy Winehouse, British R & B vocalist, laments her emotional instability after she gets distracted by another in 'You Know I’m No Good'. Chorus: “I cheated myself like I knew I would I told you, I was trouble, you know that I’m no good,” She finally gets around to discovering, “There’ll be none of him no more, I cried for you on the kitchen floor.” But, the queen-bee of sabotage is singer-songwriter Fiona Apple. In her song 'Fast As You Can' she explores the fierce duality of her own vulnerability rearing its insecure head as she attempts to salvage and simultaneously destroy a potential relationship. “I let the beast in too soon, I don’t know how to live without my hand on it’s throat. I fight him always and still, oh darling, it’s so sweet, you think you know how crazy, how crazy, I am. “I may be soft in your palm but I’ll soon grow hungry for a fight, and I will not let you win, my pretty mouth will frame the phrases that will disprove your faith in man so if you catch me trying to find my way into your heart from under your skin. “Fast as you can, baby, scratch me out, free yourself fast as you can...” She flails back and forth and ultimately spins, “I let the beast in and then I even tried forgiving him, But it’s too soon so I’ll fight again, Again, again, again.” Which beast is Fiona fighting against? What is she so afraid to have others discover? What are we so afraid of? Do lyrics that address self-sabotage allow us to revisit and resolve our own inadequacies? Does acknowledging our inadequacies in a lyrical fashion excuse our escapades - rendering them harmless? Is this type of lyrical aberration more conducive to female rockers than male rockers? Do male rockers self-sabotage and express it in lyrics as well? As we trace the evolution of female rocker lyrics is “sabotage” a trend that’s been evidenced before or is it a sign of the times? Are you ready to row? JEFF Here’s how I look at it. Whatever your position in life, be it Moroccan royalty or Calcutta street peasant, pain is real. Granted, the latter will most likely be exponentially more used to pain, which in turn perhaps makes it less unpleasant for them to experience it, then the odd time the Prince of Morocco gets his heart crushed, but in both cases it’s not fraudulent. Happiness on the other hand is not always real, many times it’s an illusion created by extraneous factors we either do not notice, or choose not to, usually because it’s coming at the expense of others. Pain can’t be stimulated with a pill, unless it’s of the physical variety. I mean you can’t take anything that duplicates the experience of a first love lost, for example. On the flip side to that, you can take a pill that will blissfully sail you down to never-never land for the rest of your days, should that be something you choose to do. This is why I understand the idea behind self-sabotage, yet I do not see it as something that is necessary for all designers of great creation. Self-sabotage ensures you will be in a placed where all chimeras are not necessarily shattered, but they are put on hold in place of whatever pressing catastrophe you have launched yourself into. Yes, there will be miserable days ahead, but one day there will be a beacon of light, and that’s when you carpe diem. It’s the whole ‘darkest before dawn’ philosophy, and this is why a lot of artist’s willingly destroy certain successful parts of their lives, as to them it’s their only chance at sustainability. This could be through drugs, or booze, or sabotaging personal relationships (in the case of Alex Chilton from Big Star, it was all of the above), but romanticize it all you want, it’s sort of pathetic when you sit down and truly examine it. Those guttural, hurting experiences are still there, they’re just in our memory banks, and this whole process of retreating back to simulate the original vehicle that spurred those to begin with isn’t reaching back for inspiration. It’s just a reverse form of stasis. Personally, I see no reason why they still can’t be absorbed into whatever current human condition one is currently experiencing, even if it’s jarring happiness, perhaps especially if its jarring happiness. I did this thing on Bark Psychosis once, and in that piece, I referenced Joni Mitchell, the Canadian icon who Lisa extensively quoted. I wrote: “I would never date any chick who loves Joni Mitchell, as I need a person in my life that tries to steer everything to the melodramatic and morose like I need a Daniel Pearl screensaver. I’m just not interested in using the Jaws of Life to extract a morsel of verve that may or may not drift away with even the slightest of breezes; life is too short to waste time on such bogus inverse ratios. However what Joni never really learned, even in her later years, is depression is only as valid as the source that’s calling it, and while it is a slippery slope, it’s all too easy to be sad because one has always been sad, and its cases like this where I lose all interest. She’s made a career out of chasing her tail, and if she wanted to know what depression sounds like when it’s confronted by sheer iron will, she’d listen to the brilliant Leonard Cohen album 'Songs of Love and Hate' a million times over (which is about the number of times I have listened to it). Perhaps then she’d realize the world isn’t as depressing when one’s troubles are spread out over a vast barren wasteland. I remember in one of my entry level college papers, I wrote that “Cowardice isn’t running from what you’re most scared of. Instead it’s fleeing from what you feel you have the capacity to create, but might not be able to.” It also must be noted I was dating a girl at the time who was really, really into 'Vanilla Sky' and that Thom Yorke solo album,'The Eraser', so I was really into questioning profound aspects of human nature that in actuality probably don’t exist. Still, it’s not a bad quote, and I hope someday it finds its way inside of fortune cookies, or at the very least, bumper stickers. I haven’t ever actually quoted it in real time, but perhaps if I’m ever trying to get laid by a chick who thoroughly digs Winston Churchill I’ll drop this nugget. For the duration of this piece though, let’s stick with that definition, and not because I’m trying to impress the vixen Lisa who has seamlessly quoted Tori and Fiona so eloquently, but mostly because I’m fairly certain (and concerned) I was correct with that quote. I always viewed self-sabotage as a form of spinelessness, whether it’s on a conscious or subconscious level, and that came mostly as a direct result of Big Star’s 'Third/Sister Lovers', which I loved in spite of itself. I thought their debut, '#1 Record' was frankly one of the strongest debuts I had ever heard, but, other than the impossibly cool 'September Gurls', I found their sophomore effort, 'Radio City', far from satisfying. 'Third/Sister Lovers' was totally different though. It was overwhelmingly haunting and despondent in some parts, and un-ironically cheerful in others. I would go as far as to say it has the sound of Alex Chilton scraping out every corner from the chamber of his heart, every shred that’s capable of every single human emotion he has ever emitted, or will ever emit, and neatly laying them out for us all within some of the most fascinatingly complex aural soundscapes I had ever heard. It just always bothered me that 'Radio City' really lacked a lot of the sincere heartbreak and insane emotional range contained in 'Third', and when I read that Chilton indulged in copious amounts of booze, drugs, and, romantic high drama during and following the release of 'Radio City', I was a bit disappointed, and left with a question hanging in the air: If that’s the catalyst for great art, is that something to support, both from an authentic and moral standpoint? There’s a real tired stereotype that great art emerges only from suffering. Even Lester Bangs who normally despised that sort of cheap, miscreant sentiment asserted that he was in a better place to create striking art because he wasn’t a pretty guy, or someone who was regarded as cool, so he had to observe other parts of the world that the beautiful people just couldn’t or be bothered to see. I’m not going to completely disregard that notion, but I’m also pretty far away from subscribing to it wholeheartedly. What all this really means is self-sabotage isn’t as interesting as the person causing it, and it’s only as interesting as to why it consumes the person. It’s entirely possible none of this is really the case, and most great artists just tend to be people who (and bear with me here, I’m going to ham-fistingly attempt to channel some of my Psych 211 drivel I learned in college) never really feel like they deserve to be happy, even when they achieve something that makes many people look at the world completely differently. The subsequent success and failure to realize that nearly all of the dividends that are coming their way are deserved directly clash with all the tangible benefits they have received. This creates a crisis of identity, and as probably about 40% of you reading this will know, that is one of the most intense forms of personal discomfort one can actively experience. The person must reaffirm their notion of self-concept, and if their notion involves being a perpetual fuckup, then they will try and perpetually fuck up, even when it appears to everybody else they’re just throwing away the keys to the city. There’s also the theory, that all rock stars are clichéd assholes, who buy into the idea that all great artists are the tortured ones, so they must create that illusion, if not for them, than for us. LISA I agree with your analysis of cowardice “fleeing from what you feel you have the capacity to create, but might not be able to.” There the stakes are higher. Here is where the fear of success comes into play. Chilton indulging in great amounts of booze, etc., and you sound disappointed in his self-sabotage. A common story, some success followed by derailment. Bummer. What is the catalyst for great art? I think suffering has its place there, but how do we evaluate whether one’s suffering is authentic? Poor Joni. She gets a bad rap. You won’t take seriously a girl who loves her? She’s been described as “whiny” and a “victim.” But, then, she was a flower child. She almost had an obligation to wear her heart on her sleeve. Now, she very well might rewrite those songs having lived through that era and survived it. I believe she was very “in the moment” which always makes one more vulnerable when communicating with others. But, I’m often confused by the word “strength” anyway. Does that imply hiding what we feel? Moving on and not dealing with one’s emotions? Okay, Jeff, is it true men think when they listen to a woman’s feelings they have to “fix” everything? This puts more pressure on them? When simply listening would be enough? Yes, Jeff, I am asking you to be the spokesperson for all the world’s men. Why not? You signed up…you can take it! I don’t see self-sabotage as spineless, but as a cry for help – a stepping-stone to the next stage - and I see art as a continuum – self-sabotage being simply one trajectory. It may be emotionally honest or come across as phony, yes, but at its best a navigable segue, and at worst a de-escalation towards Purgatory. Leonard Cohen? Why does this bloke get away scot-free? He’s a sentimental ‘ole cuss, too. Just because his voice sounds like sandpaper shredding plaster-board as opposed to Joni’s throbbing warble? As far as “tortured souls”, who doesn’t love them? I love playing a song over and over that has gut-wrench lyrics and screeching guitar riffs ad-nauseum. When I was a teenaged girl, I would sit in my room and literally cry again and again after hearing deep lyrics which promised a cathartic effect. Neurotic, yeah, but – cheaper and safer than bad meth. Never heard of guys doing this, right? JEFF I have listened to a lot of Joni Mitchell. In Canada, she’s considered like a national hero. Her material is all poetic, insightful, revealing and a perpetual pity party. None of it really examines why she feels this way. Instead the point of it all is just to make sure we all know she does in fact feel this way. Tori Amos approaches music in much the same way, but when she looks at external factors that have contributed to her state of misery, much of the music leaves that mopey, downtrodden perspective and becomes downright liberating, since control no longer seems some far away concept she is unable to grasp, which is the M.O.of Joni I was using a bit of hyperbole when I said I couldn’t take a girl serious who loved Joni Mitchell, but I would definitely see it as a red flag. I don’t think guys feel an inherent need to fix women’s feelings when we hear about them, but we certainly yearn for a way to look at it through our eyes. Sometimes that is quite impossible. But, it’s really a fine line we’re talking about here. There are some girls that look at intent listening as just what they need when voicing their discontent, while others are subconsciously asking for active participation in the hopes they can confirm what they’re feeling is the proportionate emotion for the situation it’s involved in. Girls with high-esteem tend to be the former, while girls riddled with self-doubt tend to be the latter. I stand by what I said when I said that self-sabotage is a cop-out. Perhaps that’s a strong term, but I am in much greater awe of artists who create intense, personal art when they’re not in the fifth ring of hell. That sort of creation tells me they have a relation with themselves that doesn’t have to be enhanced by purposely entering some extremely dark places as a destructive form of self-analysis. Revelations don’t always have to be the product of bottoming out, and I think there are more than enough examples to prove this. I’m not a huge Leonard fan, actually, but he did make one of my all-time favourite albums, 'Songs of Love and Hate', which is more captivating than the sum of Joni’s entire catalogue. And finally, guys do like tortured souls, how else do you explain the legions of male Morrissey obsessives? I’d like to think we have the same capacity to enjoy brutally honest music as girl’s do, in fact I have seen more guys cry at shows than I have girls! I’ll leave you with some examples: Saw a guy crying at a Black Rebel Motorcycle Club show, just balling. Saw a guy crying when I saw Leonard Cohen a few months ago. Saw several guys (and girls also I suppose) crying during Nine Inch Nails' 'Hurt' two years ago. I never understood what’s so emotional about that song. And finally, after eating some pretty potent magic mushrooms, one of my friends started balling during Aphex Twin’s 'Acrid Avid Jam Shred', while his girlfriend sat there giggling at my Big Lebowski action figure I had prominently set up. Getting back to your question though, crying is an action that is much more acceptable for girls to engage in, guys even feel like douchs when they cry without anyone seeing it, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t as affected by cathartic music as girl’s (like you) were. Personally, I would sit in my room and play stuff for hours on and be perfectly content to have my world exist as a microcosm between me and whatever was playing. I was probably just as emotionally invested in the music as you were, just social constructs probably didn’t allow me to shed any tears. Or perhaps, maybe I listened to it in a different way. If your experience was a purging one, maybe mine was a more introspective one and perhaps that’s how guys listen to personal music. It’s tough for me to speak on behalf of the guys I know, because most of them are Motorhead freaks. LISA It’s been a rousing row. Perhaps we’ve erased the gender gap. Fiona and Leonard should have the next round. Joni can have a pint with the Motorhead freaks. I’m happy to giggle with the other girls at the Big Lebowski action figure. He seems like a sensitive guy….