#available for tour events’ but then much later i found out he is gay and laughed my ass off

[aldieb]

author photo controversies through the years:

author too hot

author says it makes him look like a republican

author looks like he would call you “milady”

[boredout305]

Kid Congo Powers Interview

Kid Congo Powers was a founding member of the Gun Club. He also played with The Cramps and Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds. Powers currently fronts Kid Congo and the Pink Monkey Birds and recently completed a memoir, Some New Kind of Kick.

           The following interview focuses on Some New Kind of Kick. In the book Powers recounts growing up in La Puente—a working-class, largely Latino city in Los Angeles County—in the 1960s, as well as his familial, professional and personal relationships. He describes the LA glam-rock scene (Powers was a frequenter of Rodney Bingenheimer’s English Disco), the interim period between glam and punk embodied by the Capitol Records swap meet, as well as LA’s first-wave, late-1970s punk scene.

           Well written, edited and awash with amazing photos, Some New Kind of Kick will appeal to fans of underground music as well as those interested in 1960-1980s Los Angeles (think Claude Bessy and Mike Davis). The book will be available from In the Red Records, their first venture into book publishing, soon.

Interview by Ryan Leach   

Kid Congo with the Pink Monkey Birds.

Ryan: Some New Kind of Kick reminded me of the New York Night Train oral histories you had compiled about 15 years ago. Was that the genesis of your book?

Kid: That was the genesis. You pinpointed it. Those pieces were done with Jonathan Toubin. It was a very early podcast. Jonathan wanted to do an audio version of my story for his website, New York Night Train. We did that back in the early 2000s. After we had completed those I left New York and moved to Washington D.C. I thought, “I have the outline for a book here.” Jonathan had created a discography and a timeline. I figured, “It’ll be great and really easy. We’ll just fill in some of the blanks and it’ll be done.” Here we are 15 years later.

Ryan: It was well worth it. It reads well. And I love the photographs. The photo of you as a kid with Frankenstein is amazing.

Kid: I’m glad you liked it. You’re the first person not involved in it that I’ve spoken with.  

Ryan: As someone from Los Angeles I enjoyed reading about your father’s life and work as a union welder in the 1960s. My grandfather was a union truck driver and my father is a cabinetmaker. My dad’s cousins worked at the General Motors Van Nuys Assembly plant. In a way you captured an old industrial blue-collar working class that’s nowhere near as robust as it once was in Los Angeles. It reminded of Mike Davis’ writings on the subject.

Kid: I haven’t lived in LA for so long that I didn’t realize it doesn’t exist anymore. I felt the times. It was a reflection on my experiences and my family’s experiences. It was very working class. My dad was proud to be a union member. It served him very well. He and my mother were set up for the rest of their lives. I grew up with a sense that he earned an honest living. My parents always told me not to be embarrassed by what you did for work. People would ask me, “What’s your book about? What’s the thrust of it?” As I was writing it, I was like, “I don’t know. I’ll find out when it’s done.” What you mentioned was an aspect of that.

           When I started the book and all throughout the writing I had gone to different writers’ workshops. We’d review each other’s work. It was a bunch of people who didn’t know me, didn’t know about music—at least the music I make. I just wanted to see if there was a story there. People were relating to what I was writing, which gave me the confidence to keep going.

Ryan: Some New Kind of Kick is different from Jeffrey Lee Pierce’s autobiography, Go Tell the Mountain. Nevertheless, I couldn’t help but think of Pierce’s work as I read yours. Was Go Tell the Mountain on your mind as you were writing?

Kid: When I was writing about Jeffrey—it was my version of the story. It was about my relationship with him. I wasn’t thinking about his autobiography much at all. His autobiography is very different than mine. Nevertheless, there are some similarities. But his book flew off into flights of prose and fantasy. I tried to stay away from the stories that were already out there. The thing that’s interesting about Jeffrey is that everyone has a completely different story to tell about him. Everyone’s relationship with him was different.

Ryan: It’s a spectrum that’s completely filled in.

Kid: Exactly. One of the most significant relationships I’ve had in my life was with Jeffrey. Meeting him changed my life. It was an enduring relationship. It was important for me to tell my story of Jeffrey.

Ryan: The early part of your book covers growing up in La Puente and having older sisters who caught the El Monte Legion Stadium scene—groups like Thee Midniters. You told me years ago that you and Jeffrey were thinking about those days during the writing and recording of Mother Juno (1987).

Kid: That’s definitely true. Growing up in that area is another thing Jeffrey and I bonded over. We were music hounds at a young age. We talked a lot about La Puente, El Monte and San Gabriel Valley’s culture. We were able to pinpoint sounds we heard growing up there—music playing out of cars and oldies mixed in with Jimi Hendrix and Santana. That was the sound of San Gabriel Valley. It wasn’t all lowrider music. We were drawn to that mix of things. I remember “Yellow Eyes” off Mother Juno was our tribute to the San Gabriel Valley sound.

Ryan: You describe the Capitol Records Swap Meet in Some New Kind of Kick. In the pre-punk/Back Door Man days that was an important meet-up spot whose significance remains underappreciated.

Kid: The Capitol Records Swap Meet was a once-a-month event and hangout. It was a congregation of record collectors and music fans. You’d see the same people there over and over again. It was a community. Somehow everyone who was a diehard music fan knew about it. You could find bootlegs there. It went from glam to more of a Back Door Man-influenced vibe which was the harder-edged Detroit stuff—The Stooges and the MC5. You went there looking for oddities and rare records. I was barely a record collector back then. It’s where I discovered a lot of music. You had to be a pretty dedicated music fan to get up at 6 AM to go there, especially if you were a teenager.

Ryan: I enjoyed reading about your experiences as a young gay man in the 1970s. You’d frequent Rodney’s English Disco; I didn’t know you were so close to The Screamers. While not downplaying the prejudices gay men faced in the 1970s, it seemed fortuitous that these places and people existed for you in that post-Stonewall period.

Kid: Yeah. I was obviously drawn to The Screamers for a variety of reasons. It was a funny time. People didn’t really discuss being gay. People knew we were gay. I knew you were gay; you knew I was gay. But the fact that we never openly discussed it was very strange. Part of that was protection. It also had to do with the punk ethos of labels being taboo. I don’t think that The Screamers were very politicized back then and neither was I. We were just going wild. I was super young and still discovering things. I had that glam-rock door to go through. It was much more of a fantasy world than anything based in reality. But it allowed queerness. It struck a chord with me and it was a tribe. However, I did discover later on that glam rock was more of a pose than a sexual revolution.

           With some people in the punk scene like The Screamers and Gorilla Rose—they came from a background in drag and cabaret. I didn’t even know that when I met them. I found it out later on. They were already very experienced. They had an amazing camp aesthetic. I learned a lot about films and music through them. They were so advanced. It was all very serendipitous. I think my whole life has been serendipitous, floating from one thing to another.  

Ryan: You were in West Berlin when the Berlin Wall was breached in November 1989. “Here’s another historical event. I’m sure Kid Congo is on the scene.”

Kid: I know! The FBI must have a dossier on me. I was in New York on 9/11 too.

Ryan: A person who appears frequently in your book is your cousin Theresa who was tragically murdered. I take it her death remains a cold case.

Kid: Cold case. Her death changed my entire life. It was all very innocent before she died. That stopped everything. It was a real source of trauma. All progress up until that point went on hold until I got jolted out of it. I eventually decided to experience everything I could because life is short. That trauma fueled a lot of bad things, a lot of self-destructive impulses. It was my main demon that chased me throughout my early adult life. It was good to write about it. It’s still there and that’s probably because her murder remains unsolved. I have no resolution with it. I was hoping the book would give me some closure. We’ll see if it does.

Ryan: Theresa was an important person in your life that you wanted people to know about. You champion her.

Kid: I wanted to pay tribute to her. She changed my life. I had her confidence. I was at a crossroads at that point in my life, dealing with my sexuality. I wanted people to know about Theresa beyond my family. My editor Chris Campion really pulled that one out of me. It was a story that I told, but he said, “There’s so much more to this.” I replied, “No! Don’t make me do it.” I had a lot of stories, but it was great having Chris there to pull them together to create one big story. My original concept for the book was a coming-of-age story. Although it still is, I was originally going to stop before I even joined the Gun Club (in 1979). It was probably because I didn’t want to look at some of the things that happened afterwards. It was very good for my music. Every time I got uncomfortable, I’d go, “Oh, I’ve got to make a record and go on tour for a year and not think about this.” A lot of it was too scary to even think about. But the more I did it, the less scary it became and the more a story emerged. I had a very different book in mind than the one I completed. I’m glad I was pushed in that direction and that I was willing to be pushed. I wanted to tell these stories, but it was difficult.

Ryan: Of course, there are lighter parts in your book. There are wonderful, infamous characters like Bradly Field who make appearances.

Kid: Bradly Field was also a queer punker. He was the partner of Kristian Hoffman of The Mumps. I met Kristian in Los Angeles. We all knew Lance Loud of The Mumps because he had starred in An American Life (1973) which was the first reality TV show. It aired on PBS. I was a fan of The Mumps. Bradly came out to LA with Kristian for an elongated stay during a Mumps recording session. Of course, Bradly and I hit it off when we met. Bradly was a drummer—he played a single drum and a cracked symbol—in Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. Bradly was a real character. He was kind of a Peter Lorre, misanthropic miscreant. Bradly was charming while abrasively horrible at the same time. We were friends and I always remained on Bradly’s good side so there was never a problem.

           Bradly had invited me and some punkers to New York. He said that if we ever made it out there that we could stay with him. He probably had no idea we’d show up a month later. Bradly Field was an important person for me to know—an unashamedly gay, crazy person. He was a madman. I had very little interest in living a typical life. That includes a typical gay life. Bradly was just a great gay artist I met in New York when I was super young. He was also the tour manager of The Cramps at one point. You can imagine what that was like. Out of Lux and Ivy’s perverse nature they unleashed him on people.

Ryan: He was the right guy to have in your corner if the club didn’t pay you.  

Kid: Exactly. Who was going to say “no” to Bradly?

Ryan: You mention an early Gun Club track called “Body and Soul” that I’m unfamiliar with. I know you have a rehearsal tape of the original Creeping Ritual/Gun Club lineup (Kid Congo Powers, Don Snowden, Brad Dunning and Jeffrey Lee Pierce). Are any of these unreleased tracks on that tape?

Kid: No. Although I do have tapes, there’s no Creeping Ritual material on them. I spoke with Brad (Dunning) and he has tapes too. We both agreed that they’re unlistenable. They’re so terrible. Nevertheless, I’m going to have them digitized and I’ll take another listen to them. “Body and Soul” is an early Creeping Ritual song. At the time we thought, “Oh, this sounds like a Mink DeVille song.” At least in our minds it did. To the best of my ability I did record an approximation of “Body and Soul” on the Congo Norvell record Abnormals Anonymous (1997). I sort of reimagined it. That song was the beginning of things for me with Jeffrey. It wasn’t a clear path when we started The Gun Club. We didn’t say, “Oh, we’re going to be a blues-mixed-with-punk band.” It was a lot of toying around. It had to do with finding a style. Jeffrey had a lot of ideas. We also had musical limitations to consider. We were trying to turn it into something cohesive. There was a lot of reggae influence at the beginning. Jeffrey was a visionary who wanted to make the Gun Club work. Of course, to us he was a really advanced musician. We thought (bassist) Don Snowden was the greatest too. What’s funny is that I saw Don in Valencia, Spain, where he lives now. He came to one of our (Kid Congo and the Pink Monkey Birds) shows a few years ago. He said, “Oh, I didn’t know how to play!”

Ryan: “I knew scales.”

Kid: Exactly. It was all perception. But we were ambitious and tenacious. We were certain we could make something really good out of what we had. That was it. We knew we had good taste in music. That was enough for us to continue on.

Ryan: I knew about The Cramps’ struggles with IRS Records and Miles Copeland. However, it took on a new meaning reading your book. Joining The Cramps started with a real high for you, recording Psychedelic Jungle (1981), and then stagnation occurred due to contractual conflicts.

Kid: There was excitement, success and activity for about a year or two. And then absolutely nothing. As I discuss in my book—and you can ask anyone who was in The Cramps—communication was not a big priority for Lux and Ivy. I was left to my own devices for a while. We were building, building, building and then it stopped. I wasn’t privy to what was going on. I knew they were depressed about it. The mood shifted. It was great recording Psychedelic Jungle and touring the world. The crowds were great everywhere we went. It was at that point that I started getting heavy into drugs. The time off left me with a lot of time to get into trouble. It was my first taste of any kind of success or notoriety. I’m not embarrassed to say that I fell into that trip: “Oh, you know who I am and I have all these musician friends now.” It was the gilded ‘80s. Things were quite decadent then. There was a lot of hard drug use. It wasn’t highly frowned upon to abuse those types of drugs in our circle. What was the reputation of The Gun Club? The drunkest, drug-addled band around. So there was a lot of support to go in that direction. Who knew it was going to go so downhill? We weren’t paying attention to consequences. Consequences be damned. So the drugs sapped a lot of energy out of it too.

           I recorded the one studio album (Psychedelic Jungle) with The Cramps and a live album (Smell of Female). The live record was good and fun, but it was a means to an end. It was recorded to get out of a contract. The Cramps were always going to do it their way. Lux and Ivy weren’t going to follow anyone’s rules. I don’t know why people expected them to. To this day, I wonder why people want more. I mean, they gave you everything. People ask me, “When is Ivy going to play again?” I tell them, “She’s done enough. She paid her dues. The music was great.”

Ryan: I think after 30-something years of touring, she’s earned her union card.

Kid: Exactly. She’s done her union work.

Ryan: In your book you discuss West Berlin in the late 1980s. That was a strange period of extreme highs and lows. During that time you were playing with the Bad Seeds, working with people like Wim Wenders (in Wings of Desire) and witnessed the collapse of the Berlin Wall and the GDR. Nevertheless, it was a very dark period marred by substance abuse. Luckily, you came out of it unscathed. As you recount, some people didn’t.

Kid: It was a period of extremes. In my mind, for years, I rewrote that scene. I would say, “Berlin was great”—and it was, that part was true—and then I’d read interviews with Nick Cave and Mick Harvey and they’d say, “Oh, the Tender Prey (1988) period was just the worst. It’s hard to even talk about it.” And I was like, “It was great! What are you talking about?” Then when I started writing about it, I was like, “Oh, fuck! It really wasn’t the best time.” I had been so focused on the good things and not the bad things. Prior to writing my book, I really hadn’t thought about how incredibly dark it was. That was a good thing for me to work out. Some very bad things happened to people around me. But while that was happening, it was a real peak for me as a musician. Some of the greatest work I was involved with was being done then. And yet I still chose to self-destruct. It was a case of right place, right time. But it was not necessarily what I thought it was.  

Ryan: Digressing back a bit, when we would chat years back I would ask you where you were at with this project. You seemed to be warming up to it as time went on. And I finally found a copy of the group’s album in Sydney, Australia, a year ago. I’m talking about Fur Bible (1985).

Kid: Oh, you got it?

Ryan: I did.

Kid: In Australia?

Ryan: Yes. It was part of my carry-on luggage.

Kid: I’m sure I can pinpoint the person who sold it to you.

Ryan: Are you coming around to that material now? I like the record.

Kid: Oh, yeah. I hated it for so long. People would say to me, “Oh, the Fur Bible record is great.” I’d respond, “No. It can’t possibly be great. I’m not going to listen to it again, so don’t even try me.” Eventually, I did listen to it and I thought, “Oh, this is pretty good.” I came around to it. I like it.

Ryan: You’ve made the transition!

Kid: I feel warmly about it. I like all of the people involved with it. That was kind of a bad time too. It was that post-Gun Club period. I felt like I had tried something unsuccessful with Fur Bible. I had a little bit of shame about that. Everything else I had been involved with had been successful, in my eyes. People liked everything else and people didn’t really like Fur Bible. It was a sleeper.

Ryan: It is.  

Kid: There’s nothing wrong with it. It was the first time I had put my voice on a record and it just irritated the hell out of me. It was a first step for me.

Ryan: You close your book with a heartfelt tribute to Jeffrey Lee Pierce. You wonder how your life would’ve turned out had you not met Jeffrey outside of that Pere Ubu show in 1979. Excluding family, I don’t know if I’ve ever met anyone who’s had that sort of impact on my life.

Kid: As I was getting near the end of the book I was trying to figure out what it was about. A lot of it was about Jeffrey. Everything that moved me into becoming a musician and the life I lived after that was because of him. It was all because he said, “Here’s a guitar. You’re going to learn how to play it.” He had that confidence that I could do it. It was a mentorship. He would say, “You’re going to do this and you’re going to be great at it.” I was like, “Okay.” Jeffrey was the closest thing I had to a brother. We could have our arguments and disagreements, but in the end it didn’t matter. What mattered was our bond. Writing it down made it all clearer to me. His death sent me into a tailspin. I was entering the unknown. Jeffrey was like a cord that I had been hanging onto for so long and it was gone. I was more interested in writing about my relationship with him than about the music of the Gun Club. A lot of people loved Jeffrey. But there were others who said they loved him with disclaimers. I wanted to write something about Jeffrey without the disclaimers. That seemed like an important task—to honor him in a truthful manner.

Ryan: I’m glad that you did that. Jeffrey has his detractors, but they all seem to say something along the lines of “the guy still had the most indefatigable spirit and drive of any person I’ve ever known.”

Kid: That’s what drove everyone crazy!

Ryan: This book took you 15 years to finish. Completing it has to feel cathartic.  

Kid: I don’t know. Maybe it will when I see the printed book. When I was living in New York there was no time for reflection. I started it after I left New York, but it was at such a slow pace. It was done piecemeal. I wanted to give up at times. I had a lot of self-doubt. And like I said, I’d just go on tour for a year and take a long break. The pandemic made me finally put it to bed. I couldn’t jump up and go away on tour anymore. It feels great to have it done. When I read it through after the final edit I was actually shocked. I was moved by it. It was a feeling of accomplishment. It’s a different feeling than what you get with music. Looking at it as one story has been an eye-opener for me. I thought to myself, “How did I do all of that?”

           I see the book as the story of a music fan. I think most musicians start out as fans. Why would you do it otherwise? I never stopped being a fan. All of the opportunities that came my way were because I was a fan.

[gothmedia]

Movie Review: My Summer as a Goth

”If you don’t care what people think, why did you just ask me what I thought?” Overview and Plot My Summer as a Goth is a crowd funded movie directed by Tara Johnson-Medinger. It stars Joey, a morose teen who constantly talks about her dead dad and gets angry when other people talk about her dead dad. Since her mother is a prolific author set to do a book tour, Joey is shipped about 45 minutes out of town to her grandparents' house for the summer. There she becomes interested in the neighbor boy, an even more sullen teen called Victor. Victor notices Joey's interest and whisks her away into the world of goth summer romance. In terms of production, very nice looking film. Professional. I liked that the beginning of the movie looked very washed-out and reflected the mood well, getting warmer as the summer went on. I also loved the texting graphics. The movie was well-paced and a good length, however the passage of time in the movie was a bit odd. VERY soon after the movie says summer starts it’s the Fourth of July, then again only a short time later everyone’s talking about how the summer is almost over. Joey even gets mad at her mother in one instance for not being available in time, but it seems like the mother responded back in about a day while Joey makes it out that it took weeks. The in-movie passage of time was very confusing for me. Most of the characters were well-written with some hiccups mostly on the grandparent’s and Antonio’s end. Costume design was on-point. Sound was fine and the music choices throughout were wonderful. Overall, the film had really good production value.

Moving into spoiler territory, Joey’s grandparents are a ride as they swing from giving Joey hundreds of dollars and baking her pot brownies to telling at her she can’t stay out late and that she needs an exorcism. Antonio, a punk, starts the movie off by getting into a fist fight with Victor, but later becomes a loveable member of the cast. We meet Cob and Pen, the “goth swan couple”. They’re Victor’s friends and a breath of fresh air; despite having morose interests they’re very bubbly and outgoing. I wish more of the movie had them in it. They along with Victor decide to give Joey a makeover and invite her to a few different events over the summer including a silent disco in a graveyard, a party at Pandora’s house, and a concert. They also go on a camping trip with Joey, her grandparents, and one of Joey’s high school friends. Eventually, Joey gets annoyed with Victor’s constant toxic attitude and finds out he’s cheating on her. Everything’s fine in the end as the summer comes to a close and she goes back to school with Antonio as her new boyfriend and her new, darker look.

Joey the babybat has daddy issues. In the beginning Joey feels acts catty and defensive about everything. Don’t worry, she never really grows out of that. Pretty much everything about her revolves around either the fact that her father is dead or her relationship with Victor. She does have an art hobby that’s shown throughout the movie but she seems almost embarrassed by it? It’s never actually brought up by any characters and no one ever looks through her sketchbook or shows interest in it. Which I found really odd because a lot of the goths I know in real life tend to be pretty creative and would love it? Anyway, she falls head-first into goth because of a boy. I know that’s how some people get into the subculture, but it kind-of sours the movie because it seems like she also only stays in the subculture because of the boy. In the beginning she mentions liking the music and how it helps her express how she feels inside, but other than Victor, we really don’t get to see how she thinks about the subculture. She’s friends with Cob and Pen because they’re Victor’s friends. She goes to events because Victor goes. She dresses up because Victor wants her to. But once Victor is out of the picture, why does she stay? Other than the passing mention of music at the beginning, she really has no interest in the goth scene. She’s never shown engaging with the scene on her own terms, and I find that a little disappointing. When I was a babybat I was reading goth blogs like Stripy Tights and Dark Delights, I was trying to get my hands on back issues of Gothic Beauty, I was watching a ton of different youtubers talk about the scene and I just wanted more. There’s none of that with Joey save for a short scene where she watches tutorials on how to do her hair and make-up. (Which, admittedly was really cute.) I didn’t understand WHY Joey stays a goth at the end of the movie and I think it’s because the movie really didn’t portray the positive aspects of the subculture as much. Also, Joey needs to work on her attitude problem. She mentions her dead dad quite a bit at the beginning and gets upset when other people mention it back to her. At the end of the film she calls her mom over heartbreak and when her mom tries to talk about it with her, she acts sarcastic and shuts her mother out, getting mad that she reached out at the wrong time. I’m unsure if it was just Joey going back to her old coping strategies or if she was in the right because I have no idea how much time had passed since the phone call. I’ll never know. Either way, she does dump Victor which is nice and she reconciles with her mother as well. I do like that she feels more comfortable with herself at the end of the movie and begins doing things on her own terms, even if others don’t “get it”. Victor is a VERY well-written, manipulative dick.  Storytime! So, there weren’t many goths at my college and we never really had any classes together, but I remember seeing this one kid walking across the street to the art buildings with a flowing black velvet cape over their backpack, an unlaced black poet shirt, platinum white hair in a side-hawk, knee-high black leather boots and a TON of silver jewelry. Honestly, they would have looked so cool if their harem pants weren’t made of chiffon and completely see-through. (Batman boxers!) Seeing Victor for the first time immediately reminded me of that. Over the top, charming, charismatic and a bit silly. I liked him at first. His wit is dry and in the beginning he didn’t take himself of the subculture TOO seriously, making jokes about vampires. I liked that he seemed to be having fun chatting about music and dressing up Joey. And then there came the lipstick. Honestly, the lipstick was used absolutely perfectly to show how the relationship is souring and how manipulative Victor really is. It really is a gradual showing of how things are going south in their relationship and how Victor isn’t as much as a downcast victim as he puts on. Later on in the movie he starts reminding me of that Bruiser sketch where there’s two goths and one of them is just badgering the other one that he can’t take his sweater off in the summer or join in on seasports because it’s “not goth”. He begins chastising Joey for not looking perfect at all times or not knowing things about the subculture despite the fact that he just dresses her up and brings her to parties instead of actually trying to integrate her to the local scene or teaching her about music or history. Eventually he goes back to hooking up with Pandora, something he apparently does frequently because Joey is not the first person he’s cheated on and literally everyone in town warns Joey about it. Victor clearly has a massively inflated ego and you love to hate him in the end. There are definitely his type in goth scenes around the world and I can see how he stays in good graces with the other asshole friends he has. Some people just really like being elitists. The one thing I can’t figure out, though, is why Pen and Cob are friends with him. They’re so nice compared. A punk by jacket only and why casual homophobia makes me salty. Antonio is... hoo boy, is he a thing. First introduced starting a fight with Victor you think, "Ah, this is the antagonist of the movie. I wonder why they made the punk an asshole? Usually punks are okay with goths." Luckily for us, he apologizes for the outburst and becomes a friend of the main cast. We learn he likes canasta and plays guitar. Oddly, he doesn't seem to have any punk patches or pins on his jacket and never actually mentions punk music. He does, however, mention goth music and he seems familiar with the other goths in town going to their events, so it seems he's on good standing with them despite bullying the goths at the beginning of the film. Seeing as goths would rather pretend to be haughty vampires than get their tail coats in a twist, Antonio makes for a heroic figure in the movie when Joey is in trouble. In my notes I wrote, "Ten bucks says punk kid is gonna save her,” and lo and behold, Antonio comes out of nowhere to save Joey from some bullies. I do like that he uses his rough appearance to his advantage to help people and do the right thing. That pretty accurately describes every punk I’ve ever met. They look tough as nails, but you’ll only see that side of them if you absolutely deserve to.

It's also revealed that Antonio is not straight as he's seen making out with some guy at a concert, mentions having had a previous relationship with Victor, and is being made fun of for being gay in the end. He also ends the film by being Joey's boyfriend. Pardon, what? I'm kind-of tired of this heteronormative nonsense where movies have to end with all main characters (Sans the villain, of course.) end up in a happy straight relationship. Joey's non-goth friend who's in the movie for a very short amount of time also ends up with a goth boyfriend because happily-ever-after and all that. It probably wouldn't have sat as poorly with me if they didn't make fun of Antonio for "looking gay" which in context makes no sense since he's pretty gender conforming compared to the goth men in the film. It also didn’t help that there were comments about lesbians at the beginning of the movie. At one point Joey's grandparents suggest she might like girls and Joey rebukes it with vitriol saying her grandparents are "too cool". The same kind of vitriol you hear when a straight person tells you they could never imagine being gay, that's disgusting. Oh, but they support your "choices", hm? I just wish Antonio’s character was a bit more fleshed out and he didn’t end up being back-up male love interest that’s only there to save female lead from bad guys and heartbreak.  First rule of Goth Music is you don’t talk about Goth Music? The movie introduces goth along with music. The music in the film is honestly really good and a good portrayal of what goths actually listen to. Joey mentions she likes the music near the beginning and she goes to events such as a silent disco, a party, and a concert. Despite music obviously being a major source of community in the movie, no one actually talks about it other than that one instance of Joey mentioning she likes it. No one suggests bands to her or actually goes to the parties or concerts to do anything other than make out. The silent disco is the only real instance of them listening and dancing to the music and it feels like it's over in a flash. Though, the corny goth dance moves in that scene kind-of make up for it. At one point Antonio pulls out a guitar and asks if Joey wants him to play “Bela Lugosi’s Dead”. She mentions she’s never heard of it which leads Antonio to ask if she’s new to the scene. At another point in the party, Joey asks someone if they like Marylin Manson. While this is an obvious faux pas to anyone actually in the goth scene, no one actually engages with her in conversation about it. How was Joey supposed to know his music isn’t goth? Wasn’t she listening to goth music earlier at the silent disco? Or the music she said sounded pretty from Victor’s room when they met? How did she get this far liking these bands but not noticing that they sound nothing like Marylin Manson and did she never look them up on her own to listen to them later? She obviously likes them, so it really surprises me that she only got in the goth scene for a guy.

Robert Smith NEVER has smeared lipstick. /s The emphasis on appearance is a little annoying throughout the movie, but I guess it had to be. It fits Victor's personality to change Joey's personal style to match his, and the makeover scene was fun, but I wish there would have been more diversity in the cast of townie goths who attend the parties, concerts, and discos. I counted one person with blonde hair and a small handful of older goths. I didn't notice any non-white goths and unfortunately the movie placed quite the emphasis on pale skin and trying to avoid tanning. I know people like the white face along with dark make-up and looking vamp-ish, but when all your characters are in white greasepaint and there's no PoC to be seen in goth garb it sends a message that only white people can be goth and that's really something we need to kill in the subculture. I did, however, like the wardrobe choices. I liked that Joey got her wardrobe from a thrift store and that she dyed a top she already owned. She looked up tutorials on how to do her hair and make-up and it never looked perfect. That's a good thing. Baby Bats won't know how to do a bats nest hairstyle, they won't know to blend foundation to the neck, and they won't have a perfect eyeliner wing. No one mentioned alt-brand name clothing and no one had a perfectly couture outfit that media likes to sell as a stereotypical goth teenager. The goths actually looked like goths. Their wardrobes were things you'd actually see in a club and we get to see that they wear a plain black tank top and shorts when milling about the house, only breaking out the corsets and top hats for big events. The older goths were more well put together and that makes sense because they've been in the subculture longer and have had time to figure out what they like and what looks good on them. The costuming department did a really great job with this. Ah, but as a side note about wardrobe, who donates brand new, tall Docs to a thrift store??? You can’t sit with us. And sadly, the worst part of Goth in the movie- community. What was that, film? Other than the three main goths, we only get to see other goths at large events and they all seem a bit catty? You have the silent disco, which was cute but no one really spoke to or interacted with each other. Pen and Cob are kind-of doing their own thing throughout no matter who they’re with. We also have the house party and the concert. The other goths there are.... pretty much just there to be judgy because Joey’s new? The first time I went to a club in a new city and didn’t know anyone some random person grabbed my hands and dragged me to the dancefloor. It was fun! People would ask the DJ what he was spinning and they weren’t shamed for not knowing. If someone’s jacket ripped, five people would come out of the woodwork with a safety pin and afterwards we’d all pile into Denny’s and laugh and joke and talk about nothing. I’m not saying there’s no “Gothier-than-Thou” types, believe me I’ve met more than a few, but in a movie that’s trying to portray someone WANTING to become a goth, why not portray the subculture as more inviting? Also, with the comments from Victor and a few other remarks, it seems like alcohol is needed to blend into the goth scene, and that definitely isn’t the case. Sure, a lot of us love absinth or a snakebite in black, but it’s not needed to fit in with the cool kids at the club. The community really is my favorite thing about this subculture and I feel it was a disservice that most goths were showcased as uninviting. I can understand Joey not being wanted at the party initially as she wasn’t invited in the first place and perhaps the eldergoths in the room didn’t want to have to have an impromptu etiquette and history lesson with a babybat when they’re supposed to be relaxing, but the point of the movie was to showcase why Joey wants to be a goth. She never makes friends outside of Victor’s immediate group and never tries to find community or information about the scene online or anything. I guess that is how babybats do act a lot of the time, but again, at the risk of sounding like a broken record, the point of the movie is showing why someone would WANT to be a goth.  Final Thoughts. The goth scene in the movie looked like a regular goth scene. I liked the emphasis on thrifting and DIY and that newcomers don’t come out of the womb knowing the lyrics to the entirety of Floodland. The music was phenomenal. I liked that the music featured was goth music, but not the main five bands that everyone already knows. I liked that the events attended were focused mainly around music. I liked seeing actual goth dance moves on screen. I liked that people in the movie did use terminology found in the subculture and made jokes about the subculture that insiders would actually make. I liked that Pen and Cob were wonderfully peppy despite their dark interests, I liked that we got punk-goth solidarity. I liked that it did remind me a bit of my babybat years and got me missing clubs and events. I miss all my friends... I really do...

I was put off by the passage of time in the movie, Joey’s cattiness with anyone who tries to help her, the light and casual homophobia sprinkled in, and the negative-leaning portrayal of the goth community. Other than that, though, I did think it was a good movie with a satisfying ending and I would really suggest people check it out. It’s probably the most accurate portrayal of goths in any media, really, and it’s worth a watch. At the very least, go listen to the soundtrack on BandCamp. 

[lakelewisia]

A Lewisian Year

Presented in partnership with the Lewisia Communications Board and Lewisia Public Library

Sponsored by The Historical Society

Hello, readers, listeners, and psychic osmosizers! Welcome to A Lewisian Year, a monthly showcase celebrating the rich culture here in the Lake Lewisia district. Each month, we'll highlight some seasonal events, local celebrations and interpretations of national and world holidays, and historical tidbits.

JUNE

Midsummer Bonfires

It's Midsummer Day, and you're headed to the park through the noonday heat. But this time, it won't be to cool off in the shade of the trees or around the fountains where children splash in the water. No, it's only going to get hotter, thanks to a dozen or so large bonfires burning on temporary platforms dotted around the park. As you walk, you carry with you a stone, about the size of your outstretched palm and fingers, softly rounded in a way that suggests it might have spent a few eons in a riverbed long ago.

In the park, the air is thick with wood smoke, which spirals up in grey towers over each of the bonfires. The bonfires are heaped high with fallen limbs gathered from the forest over the past year, and it took weeks to assemble them all here. Each fire has an attendant watching over it so the burn stays safely contained. As always for such events, there are booths selling food and local crafts scattered between the fires. Maybe you'll grab an ear of roasted corn or a s'more later (though these are never cooked using the bonfires, as that's seen as depleting their power and thus bad luck). But most people quickly drift back to one particular fire or another. Their eyes stay fixed on the platform under the bonfire and the ring of stones assembled there--on their stone, wherever it may sit in the circle.

You find an empty spot around a fire and, with the use of iron tongs to save your hands, nudge it into place around the flames. As the sun beats down and the fire crackles, the stones bask in all that heat, soaking it up. How long this goes on depends on the year, because what you are waiting for is true midsummer, the moment when the day stretches as long as it will all year. This year, 2021, that won't happen until 8:32 PM in Lewisia. So the fires burn until then, standing in for the sun for the short time after it sets in the evening.

When midsummer arrives, the stones are pulled out away from the fire to cool. Some people wrap them up in blankets when they are ready to go home, the insulation more symbolic than practical. You just wait until it is cool enough to touch barehanded, and then you carry it back to your home. It will sit in the house--sometimes on mantles, or on bedside tables, or tucked at the back of the kitchen counter--all through the year. In the depth of winter, it is said, the midsummer stone in a house will keep the people warm against all odds. It is a little piece of summer sunlight and the promise of warmth to come, sustaining people through darker, colder times.

Pride

The annual Gay Pride events in Lake Lewisia seem to lack some of the wild flair of the event in other cities. Previous years have seen themes on outreach, community history, and representation of marginalized voices both in the wider world and within the community itself. The events are characterized more by volunteer hours than parades and more by art exhibits than merchandise booths. (I hear the community dance and fireworks display, though, is a very good time if you're the outgoing sort!)

This year's theme--"Season the Soup, Raise the Roof"--focuses on food and housing insecurity for QUILTBAG individuals throughout the nation. Members of the community are far more likely than the general population to experience homelessness at some point in their lives, often as a result of abusive family circumstances. Plenty of Lewisia residents found their way to the town for the first time during their own experience with homelessness born out of rejection by their former families and communities.

Observances this year include a number of volunteer opportunities around the community and outside it. The mixed-use building at Prism Place, which houses the largest queer collective within the town boundaries and the retail space they run to support themselves, is raising funds for repairs to the roof and heating systems of the building. Sea Mink Pastries needs help with baking bread to take to soup kitchens around Marguerite County and surrounding counties. Also, trips are being organized to distribute the latest prototype from Shipwreck Repair Collective for a pop-up living space to help shelter the unhoused in those areas. This iteration of the tent-like structure boasts more legs than previous versions for faster rescues and escapes, as well as an improved guiding intelligence (about which the representative from the Collective was rather cagey--industry secrets, I suppose).

Summer Art Walk

Toward the end of the month, the downtown area will be bursting with even more art than usual as exhibits go up for the Summer Art Walk. From still-lifes and landscapes to portraits and abstracts, new pieces created for the event and some old favorites brought out of galleries and private collections will all be made available to the public to walk. Taste the chalk pastel fruits and walk the shaded paths of pointillist forests. Slip between the brushstrokes and into worlds real and imagined within the frames.

Don't worry if your sense of direction seems insufficient to the task of such an exploration. Expert artists and adventurers both will be on call in case anyone gets a little lost. There is, I hear, a whole team of guides available to help people navigate an Escher-inspired pastoral piece this year, where infinite flocks of sheep graze up gravity-defying hills.

I was lucky enough to be treated to a preview of one of this year's pieces, something a little different even for those who are regular attendees of the Art Walk. Studio Tallaios, the bronze work partnership between sisters M'kayla and Soriya Johnson, has created an interactive sculpture. Without revealing too much of the surprise, I can say the piece took inspiration from both sea caverns and the architectural traditions of the Doorway Maximalism movement. I only took a short tour of the piece, and even that much required me to don a harness and rope to ensure I could find my way back. It was, I promise, worth the possible risks.

This Month in History

On June 2, 1921, the Sunglow Distillery, then only a backyard operation, exploded in a shower of high-proof liquor and spirits of a more supernatural sort. Only a year and a half into Prohibition, Charles Fojt had been making a good living brewing and distributing his moonshine throughout much of the west coast. It was during this time that the multigenerational rivalry began between the Fojt family and the Espinoza family, vineyard owners intent on maximizing the legal loopholes that existed in the Eighteenth Amendment regarding grape juice and wine.

However, in his eagerness to outdo Pedro Espinoza, Fojt had been expanding his operation into land abutting his small farm. As it turned out, several human graves existed on those lands and the spirits of the place considered the moonshine brewing over their final resting places to be partially theirs. Letters written by Fojt at the time indicated he suspected the haunting around his stills but chose to ignore it. The explosion--which created a soft and highly intoxicating rain for several miles around--seems to have been the last resort of the frustrated spirits.

Following the explosion, Fojt relented and began making regular offerings of moonshine in the general vicinity of the gravesites. After that, and the rebuilding of his equipment, he saw ever-increasing success throughout the duration of Prohibition.

That's a taste of what June has to offer us. See you next month, when July brings heatwave hatchings and a convention for every occasion.

[babettepress]

Bobby “O”, Hi-NRG and the expression of queer desire

A few months ago, someone at a party asked me what song I would choose to have played at my funeral. I answered without hesitation: ‘Passion’, by The Flirts. This response was met with wide eyes of incredulity by the heterosexual man who had posed the question, and debate spilled out around us about why I should (or should not) choose something with more meaning, more depth, more substance. But I believe meaning can be found in the shallowest of places.

Hi-NRG is generally considered to be a shallow place. Peaking between 1982 and 1989, Hi-NRG rose like a phoenix from the embers of disco – an inferno which, by the late-1970s, was not so much petering out as being stomped out by a critical backlash epitomised by events like 1979’s Disco Demolition Night. The origin of Hi-NRG is fabled to be in Donna Summer’s ‘I Feel Love’ (1977), with its rolling arpeggiators and what Summer described in interviews as its ‘high energy vibe’.[1] Like disco before it, Hi-NRG uses predominantly electronic sounds, and was produced and consumed largely by marginalised communities, including queer African-Americans, Italian-Americans and Latinos. It was music for nighttime and nite-clubs, for dancing to, escaping to, for fostering inclusivity.

“You could think of early disco as the music of outsiders”, says curator, DJ and Hi-NRG enthusiast Pádraic E. Moore, who points out that Hi-NRG also furthered disco’s vital contribution to “the formation of gay identities, promotion of queer culture and disruption of gender norms”.[2] Moore cites Hi-NRG tracks like Patrick Cowley’s ‘Menergie’ (1981) and Modern Rocketry’s ‘Homosexuality’ (1985) as daring and provocative expressions of queer desire. Cowley and his ‘Menergie’ collaborator Sylvester were both early pioneers of the Hi-NRG genre, associated with San Francisco’s Megatone Records, and both of them would be killed by AIDs by the end of the decade. (Indeed, records like ‘Homosexuality’ seem even more radical and defiant given the backdrop of the AIDs crisis, and the accompanying discriminatory culture of the US mainstream.)

Moore stresses the DIY aesthetic of Hi-NRG in this initial, more underground phase, made possible by the increased availability and affordability of electronic music equipment, including Roland’s 808 drum machine and later, Yamaha’s DX7 synthesiser. By the middle of the 1980s, the genre would find mainstream success, with Stock Aitken Waterman producing a number of Hi-NRG hits by Divine, Dead or Alive, Hazell Dean and Bananarama; Moore also points out the Hi-NRG influence on queer artists such as Bronski Beat (in particular their 1984 track ‘Why?’) and Frankie Goes To Hollywood (‘Relax’). Though some great Hi-NRG tracks came from this period, the mainstream’s co-option of the genre would eventually lead to Hi-NRG’s dilution and demise – what Moore derides as the “vanilla cul-de-sac”[3] most radical art forms ultimately end up in. At its peak, though, Hi-NRG was a radical expression of queer desire, fuelled by the burgeoning LGBT club culture in the UK and the US.

This queer history of Hi-NRG is not without contention, though, and this essay will focus on the work of Bobby Orlando, a pioneer of the genre who I’m drawn towards not only because I love his music, but also because he is a problematic figure who in many ways troubles this reading of Hi-NRG. Orlando has been accused of plagiarism, homophobia, sexism and exploitation, and was characterised by a 1987 profile in The Face Magazine as “the self-styled master of classic techno trash” who aspired to be “the Ronald McDonald of the music industry”.[4] But Babette loves a problem child and in this essay I will argue why Orlando’s music is nonetheless worthy of our attention, and can still be celebrated within a queer history of late 20th-century dance music.

Bobby Orlando grew up in New York State, a teenage boxing sensation who could allegedly do one-finger push-ups. Not wanting to ruin his pretty face, he quit fighting sports and took up music instead, initially dipping his toe into the ‘glitter rock’ scene, attracted by its flamboyant masculinity and its taste for excess. In 1977, the year Giorgio Moroder released Donna Summer’s ‘I Feel Love’, Orlando ditched the guitar and swapped glam rock for disco. He set up his own label, “O” Records, in 1980 – in the midst of the disco backlash. Contemporaneously to the aforementioned Cowley, Orlando carved out his own niche of fast-paced, synth-laden, campy staccato disco that would become known as Hi-NRG.

An almost exclusively electronic genre, Hi-NRG is defined by its synthetic sounds (Moore points out its eschewal more orchestral disco elements such as layered strings[5]) and Orlando’s music in particular makes use of gratuitous patches and samples. Compare his amped-up early version of the Pet Shop Boys’ ‘West End Girls’ (1984) to the more stripped back and definitive ‘hit’ version (1985) to see what I mean. Orlando’s penchant for artifice extends beyond the sounds he made, however, and into the broader aesthetic and practice of his music-making. The Flirts, arguably Orlando’s biggest musical legacy, were girl group of sheer artifice. Session musicians recorded the vocals, then a rotating roster of models, dancers and actresses lip-synced the song live: one blonde, one redhead, one brunette. Different tours and albums had different line-ups, with Orlando himself the only consistent factor.

One blonde, one redhead, one brunette: The Flirts performing live in 1983

Capitalising on this line-up of leggy, preened and pouting models, Orlando opted for a ‘sex sells’ approach to The Flirts’ song-writing. ‘Passion’, their biggest hit, opens with the zingy line “I’m waiting for you baby, it’s time for show and tell”, before going on to literally spell out sexual desire in a refrain of “P–A–SS–ION!”. In another track, ‘Calling All Boys’, The Flirts send out a signal of sexual invitation not to one specific boy/man, but to ALL boys/men. With its interchangeable frontwomen, hypersexualised performance of femininity and non-specific objects of desire, The Flirts are ostensibly meant to represent all or any women (or at least all or any white women since, gallingly by today’s standards, the group’s diversity is limited only to hair colour). With one or two exceptions, The Flirts’ performers are known only by one name – Hope, Holly, Sandy – and they serve only as vessels for Orlando’s expression.

This use of female bodies as two-dimensional, interchangeable marionettes is, of course, deeply exploitative, even if its symptomatic of the music industry’s attitude towards women as a whole. It should be noted that Orlando’s relations with many of his key performers, including Divine and Roni Griffiths, would turn sour after a couple of years’ collaboration. I don’t mean to underplay this problematic aspect of Orlando’s music-making, but to play devil’s advocate, I personally think his layering and obfuscation of authorship, and outright subversion of authenticity, is precisely what is fascinating about Orlando’s music.

Alongside the mirage of constructed femininity that was The Flirts, Orlando released and produced music under dozens of other names and self-invented bands, most of which had no members other than Orlando himself (except for the odd session vocalist). Wikipedia lists over 70 Orlando ‘acts’, and their camped-up, flamboyant names are a joy to read through: Barbie & The Kens, Hotline, the New York Models, Hippies With Haircuts, The He Man Band, The Fem-Spies, Girls Have Fun, Lilly & the Pink, The Bang Gang, Bubba and the Jack Attack …

The act of naming, and its transformative potential, was clearly not lost on Orlando. The adoption of constructed personas, fictitious identities and assumed names is a practise widely adopted within the queer community. It is a form of expression used not only by drag performers, but artists and activists (Rosa von Praunheim, Gluck, Claude Cahun, Tom of Finland, to name but a few). Orlando’s adoption of playful pseudonyms, many of which seem centred on gender/sexuality, seems to fit squarely within this practice, except for one rather large problem: Orlando identified as heterosexual and was reportedly homophobic. Rumour has it that after his music career fizzled out, Orlando became a religious zealot and wrote a book on creationism. I warned you he was problematic.

A 1942 self-portrait by Hannah Gluckstein, aka ‘Gluck’, recently included in Tate Britain’s exhibition of ‘Queer British Art 1861–1967′. The work is included in the collection of Britain’s National Portrait Gallery

Orlando’s music is throbbing with heterosexual desire and pumped-up machismo – “Let a man like me make a woman out of you”, promises one track, its cover art decorated with an illustration of a chiselled man lifting a barbell. In a rare interview with The Face Magazine in 1987, Orlando spoke of channelling the controlled aggression of his early boxing career into his music: “The only difference is that with records you take the aggression you would normally use beating the hell out of a guy by punching beats. It’s the same punch, the same drive.”[6]

One suspects that driving this male bravado and hetero-peacocking was an over-compensation of sorts, or even internalised homophobia. It’s not the place of this blog to speculate on Orlando’s sexuality, but whether or not the man himself was (is) queer, I think it’s fair to say that despite all the above, his music certainly was. Orlando’s performative take on masculinity is as artificial as The Flirts’ performance of femininity. Both expressions of gender identity chime with Susan Sontag’s definition of camp. In her still-relevant ‘Notes on Camp’ (1964), Sontag cites “the exaggerated he-man-ness” of bodybuilder Steve Reeves and Samson and Delilah actor Victor Mature as well as the “corny flamboyant femaleness” of Jayne Mansfield, Jane Russell.[7]

There is also a strong tradition of ostensibly ‘heterosexual’ anthems performed by women for a largely gay audience: Miguel Brown’s Hi-NRG hit ‘So Many Men, So Little Time’; Sinitta’s ‘So Macho’; Eartha Kitt’s ‘I Love Men’; The Weathergirls ‘It’s Raining Men’, etc. Seen in this context, tracks like The Flirts’ ‘Calling All Boys’ can take on a new meaning. And besides – that problematic Flirts paradigm of women as vessels becomes less straightforward when one views it through the kaleidoscope of queer identity: this is a song about this is desire for MEN, written by a MAN, performed by WOMEN miming WOMEN. Ironically, by adhering to uphold strict gender binaries, Orlando’s acts only serve to reveal how constructed and performative they are.

The exception, of course, is Divine – the only Orlando act to gender-bend in the more literal way. Unlike the majority of Orlando acts, Divine was not a persona of Orlando’s invention. An actor and drag queen, Divine had developed both a strong public identity and large fanbase by the time he began to collaborate with Orlando in 1981, having starred in several cult hits by filmmaker John Waters, including Pink Flamingos (1972) and Female Trouble (1974). As such, his sizeable impact on the history of queer identity in the late twentieth century extends beyond the scope of this essay and indeed deserves one in its own right. One point worth touching on, though, is that Divine’s expression of femininity – all grit, fighting talk and disobedient body – is, to me, a truer expression of womanhood (or at least my experience of it) than any of Orlando’s nameless models provide. Once more, there is realness to be found in artifice.

The expression of desire in Orlando’s records, whether read as queer or hetero, is as performative and artificial as the gender identities he constructs. In the Bobby “O” track ‘I’m So Hot For You’ (1982), Orlando croons, “I saw you at the party so I thought I’d play the game / Two strangers in a lonely room, I asked you your name”, before bursting into its infectious chorus of “I’m so hot for you and you’re so hot for me … what are we waiting for?”. (“Pass the poppers, please”, read the top YouTube comment when I listened to it). This is typical of Orlando tracks – eyes lock across a crowded party, a lonely lothario asks a girl her name and everyone’s fantasies come true. These plotlines are so cliché, though – so artificial and oversexed – that they almost stop being sexy. The scenario is too cinematic to be believable. The beats are too fast to bump ‘n’ grind to. This is music for taking pills and dancing euphorically to, not slow-jamming to before taking someone home. It’s burning passion with no fulfilment.

In his extensive survey of post-punk Rip It Up and Start Again, Simon Reynolds points out that the “non-funkiness” of Hi-NRG is one of the defining traits of the genre. It is “slamming rather than swinging”, he writes. Reynolds discusses Hi-NRG only as a footnote to Frankie Goes To Hollywood’s ‘Relax’, which though not ‘pure’ Hi-NRG itself, adopted many its its stylistic traits. He mentions Hi-NRG’s “orgiastic vibe”, but argues that ‘Relax’  was only sexy “in the exhibitionist sense of the Amsterdam leather bars [frontman] Holly [Johnson] visited, where the sex acts had an element of ‘theatre and performance’ … ‘Relax’ was driven by something far stronger than sensuality: an idea of sex as a weapon, shock tactic, threat”.[8]

Screenshot from the banned version of Frankie Goes To Hollywood’s ‘Relax’, showing BDSM/leather bars. “You can really see how deviant this must have seemed in 1983″, says Moore[9]

The same could be said of Orlando’s sexploitation disco classics – the notion of sex as a dancefloor statement of intent, rather than a sensual act carried out behind closed doors. Orlando’s heroes and heroines know exactly what they want, as exemplified by 1982’s ‘She Has a Way’ (“She knows what she wants from you / You’ll do things you’d never do”). That’s not to say it’s always a happy ending, though. Much of the desire expressed in Orlando’s Hi-NRG pop songs is one-way – take Girly’s ‘Working Girl (One-Way Love Affair)’ or The Flirts’ ‘Helpless’ (“I can see you in the arms of another girl … you shattered my world”). These thwarted expectations of love are pure, swooping, teenage-style catastrophes of the heart. The sentimentality of such Orlando tracks, just like the directness of his more erotic numbers, give us permission to feel the most untempered emotions.

In 1978, the queer, socialist British journal Gay Left published an essay by Richard Dyer titled ‘In Defence of Disco’. In it, Dyer argues that there are three main characteristics of the disco genre: eroticism, romanticism and materialism. Dyer points out that almost all popular music is arguably erotic, but unlike the disembodied eroticism of pop music (admittedly more chaste in 1978 than it is today) and the ‘phallic’ grind of rock, disco’s eroticism is a full-bodied experience, making it open to all genders and sexualities. Then on the romanticism of disco, he argues that its “passion and intensity embody or create an experience that negates the dreariness of the mundane and everyday”. This flight from the banality of the everyday experience, and its accompanying structural sexism/racism, “can be seen as a flight from capitalism and patriarchy as lived experiences”.[10]

Though Dyer is, of course, discussing disco, I feel his points are equally relevant to its descendent Hi-NRG (“if not more so”, adds Moore, who brought my attention to the essay[11]). The full-bodied eroticism that Dyer describes is certainly a key component of Hi-NRG, alongside the euphoric escape from the conditions of late capitalism. Though both disco and Hi-NRG can be characterised by their excessive appetites (for drumbeats and cowbells, for flamboyant get-ups, for drugs, for sex), both offer a moment of respite from and alternative to the grind of day-to-day life, particularly for oppressed groups such as the queer community which, as pointed out at the beginning of this essay, made up large swathes of Hi-NRG’s audience.

Like most great pop/dance tracks, Orlando’s songs do not promise to deliver anything but a few minutes of punchy, sexy euphoria. But in my eyes, this is precisely what makes them so transcendental. To those of a certain bent, they deliver a pure hit of serotonin to the brain, and their artifice and ephemerality only serve to heighten this connection. I return, once again, to the wise words of Susan Sontag: “One cheats oneself, as a human being, if one has respect only for the style of high culture, whatever else one may do or feel on the sly.”[12]

Whether or not I’m permitted my wish of having a camp, sexy Hi-NRG track sang by three anonymous models played at my funeral, no hell or wild horses could stop me from enjoying it in the meantime.

FOOTNOTES

[1] Alan Jones & Jussi Kantonen, Saturday Night Fever: The Story of Disco (Chicago: A Cappella Books, 1999), cited on https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hi-NRG, accessed July 2017

[2] Pádraic E. Moore, personal communication, July 2017

[3] ibid.

[4]  Kimberley Leston, ‘The Story of O’, The Face, 1987, accessed online at http://www.italo-disco.net/HTML/HTML%20Interviews/Bobby%20Orlando%20Interview.html, July 2017

[5] Moore, ibid.

[6] Leston, ibid.

[7] Susan Sontag, ‘Notes on Camp’ in Against Interpretation and Other Essays (London: Penguin Classics, 2009), p. 279

[8] Simon Reynolds, Rip it up and Start Again, p. 504

[9] Moore, ibid.

[10] Richard Dyer, ‘In Defence of Disco’, Gay Left, Summer 1979, pp. 20–23, accessed via http://www.gayleft1970s.org/issues/gay.left_issue.08.pdf, July 2017

[11] Moore, ibid.

[12] Sontag, ibid.

[nonsense-and-shenanigans]

(First, go to this post if you don’t know what my #Before30BucketList is. I’ll also be going back to that original post and noting each goal accomplished if you want to keep up but miss out on some of my posts.)

This one was a really, really big deal.

I’ve spent my whole life going to concerts and rallys and shows and plays and movies and museums and whatever else people get excited about. But I’ve also spent my whole life loving books more than anything. And, until now, had never been to a single book signing or met a prominent author. I had heard musicians explain and sing songs that touched my heart, and I had watched my feelings played out on stage, I had seen art that spoke to me up close, but I had never heard an author discuss or read the words that lived in my soul.

So when I saw one of my favorite authors announce her book tour this year, I jumped on it. Then I decided to look up who else might be reading/signing close to me, and I found him.

The man who is made entirely of flaws, stitched together with good intentions.

(If you don’t know that quote we can’t be friends. Just kidding, keep reading, and maybe you’ll learn it.)

As a toddler, my favorite book was Goodnight Moon (Margaret Wise Brown). As I grew, obviously that changed. I don’t remember them all, but as an adolescent You Don’t Know Me (David Klass) really spoke to me. Of course all of the Harry Potter (J.K. Rowling) books were in there, and as a teen I fell in love with Ellen Hopkins (Crank, among others). Once I started to fully come into my right-of-passage reading, I, like so many others, became glued to Catcher In The Rye (J.D. Salinger). As I grew into adulthood I gravitated toward the outcast novels — those written about drugs and insanity and homosexuality, with snark and exaggerated opinions — people who experienced struggles like mine with a crude mindset. Candy (Luke Davies) remains an all-time favorite, but Running With Scissors (Augusten Burroughs) imprinted itself in my veins and became a part of me.

My personal copy. I had the original cover design but someone must have borrowed it and never given it back. I keep a log of who borrows what book now. Because I’m crazy.

(p.s. – If you’ve seen any of these movies but haven’t read the books, please don’t judge a book by its movie adaptation. Some of the best books I’ve read turned into some of the worst movies I’ve seen.)

Sometimes I feel silly, telling people my favorite book is his most popular, because mainstream isn’t cool or something. But then I tell myself to shut up and that I’m not cool anyway, so admitting to loving something that’s fucking amazing isn’t going to change my seat in the lunchroom.

I love everything Burroughs writes. Even if I don’t agree with it, I find myself accepting him wholly and begging for more. His memoirs put me in times and places I’d never otherwise be, but also bring a sense of home when his intense, blunt words intermingle with my delicate, rambunctious, off-kilter brain. His fiction is hilarious and riveting. Even in times (and they are rare) when I find myself not wanting to read certain stories or opinions, I later find that I needed to read them. I don’t really believe much in role models, because no one’s exactly like you, but he comes damn close because I relate so much to him, yet sometimes not at all.

Anyway, enough gushing. I stalked his Facebook and Googled my ass off and learned he would be in New Jersey on Tuesday, March 28th. So I put it on my calendar and my dad’s calendar and my husband’s calendar and my mom’s calendar and my sister-in-law’s calendar. I usually like to have a partner in crime (or two) when I have incredible experiences so my mom and sister-in-law were planning to come with me, and we had it all set. Except sometimes I suck, so while I knew there was a $17 charge for the NJ book signing (it also came with a paperback copy of his latest book, Lust & Wonder, which I wanted because I only have the hard copy), I somehow put it out of my mind until the weekend before. And of course, when I went to purchase the tickets they were sold out.

Me being me, however, I also knew pretty much every other date and venue on the book tour, and it turned out he would be in NYC that Monday, March 27th. Now you may think that New York is much farther away from me than a location in my home state, but I’m at the very bottom and NJ, PA, and NY are oddly set up so they were both actually the same distance. I was just worried that, since Burroughs had spent so much of his life in New York, and it was a free event, and it was freakin’ New York City, that it would be mobbed and I would miss out. I also found out that literally no one I knew was available to go with me.

So I got a babysitter and every book he’s ever written and my “I can’t live without books” book tote and my Jenny Lawson You Are Here coloring-but-not-really book and my gel pens and I set off for the big city, all by my lonesome.

I arrived four hours early. When I went to Jenny Lawson’s book signing I got there an hour early and all the seats were already taken so I had to sit on the floor (but in the front, so there, seat-takers) so naturally I assumed I wouldn’t be the first to arrive. The Barnes & Noble customer service representative looked at me like I was on fire and breathing spiders when I told her I was there for Augusten Burroughs. Also like she pitied me, which didn’t make me mad but rather humored because I wasn’t missing anything by waiting — I had my books (and a whole book store) to keep me company, while she would miss out on meeting a legend because she had to sit behind a desk. Who’s the winner, really?

This is my “I’m crazy and arrive 4 hours early” face.

While I was waiting I knocked out some aspects of my Traveling Alone bucket list item and felt very peaceful and content. It’s not such a bad thing having to wait for four hours exploring book stores and Manhattan and meeting new people and simply doing whatever I wanted. But I was a little neurotic and kept venturing back to Barnes & Noble to make sure some mad rush of fans didn’t show up and kick me out of my first-in-line spot.

They didn’t. I was the first one at the door, and the first one in the door, and the first one to pick my seat, which was obviously front and center. The rest of the crowd still thought I was crazy when they learned that I had arrived so early, but hey, when you’re passionate about something you fight for it. I fought time.

This is how front and center I was. There was maybe a foot between the front of my chair and the stage.

I was so giddy and so nervous and didn’t know what to do with my hands or my three bags or my phone or my breathing. I don’t know why I get nervous — I preach all day every day that politicians and police and celebrities and the like are all people — humans like you and me with flaws and fabulosities (I just made that word up), but when I get around authors I freeze and become a blubbering idiot.

We all got seated and excited and I kept looking around to see what other kinds of degenerates Burroughs attracted, and I was surprised to find a wide array of people — a businessman, a woman and her son who was actually named Augusten, teachers, young adults, older adults, gay men, straight men, the rebels and the righteous. We all came together over the love of writing or reading, specifically by one man who did not fit into all of our labels.

I was actually surprised to learn that Burroughs was more “stereotypically gay” than I had pictured him. I don’t know if that makes me a good person for assuming he was just a human, or a bad person for noticing “gay traits”, or maybe I was good turned bad or maybe I was just another person trying to scrub out the brainwashing done by growing up in American Millennium society. But I did learn a bit about myself, and him, and I felt like I got to know him much better which calmed me down a lot because usually I have a tendency to build people up into unattainable perfection in my head and am nearly always let down by the real thing.

He started out by reading a section from Lust & Wonder, and hearing how he narrated it in his head while writing was an experience I can’t even explain. We read things according to our own biases, and it’s often thrilling to learn how words on paper were meant to be read — with the proper exaggerations and pauses and snark.

This clip is long, but if you’re anything like me, you’ll be able to watch it a million times. Otherwise, skip around, watch as much or as little as you’d like.

Then the room was open to ask questions. I’ve learned, in the whole two book signings/readings I’ve been to, that I need to not ask the first question, but learn to read the author and prepare myself for their ending so I can shoot up my hand at exactly the right time — not too soon as to avoid being rude, but not too late as to avoid be overlooked. I think I’ve perfected this art. (This is something that should be taught. People teach everything nowadays, maybe I’ll make my own “When to raise your hand at exactly the right moment to be noticed without being pushy” class.)

So I asked my question, which I didn’t even know needed to be asked until it came out, and his response was perfect and detailed and meaningful.

(I have this horrible habit of constantly messing with my nose and I never noticed how gross it looks until now and I’m horrified that I did it not only in front of, but to one of my swoon-worthy celebrities.)

After the questions from all types of audience members, we lined up to get our books signed. (I told people how excited I was and they agreed but then I noted that this was better than meeting Brad Pitt and they just gave me weird looks and stopped talking to me.) I was the only one with all nine of his books so I was worried he wouldn’t want to sign them all, or there wouldn’t be enough time, or his handler (manager was the word I was looking for but handler came out and now I think it’s fitting) would push some of my books to the side. But none of that happened. Burroughs was thrilled to take as much time as needed to sign everyone’s books the way they wanted, and talk to them about whatever nonsense came out of their mouths (I also told him the Brad Pitt thing and he said “No, it’s really not”, which is the same thing Jenny Lawson said so now my mission is to make writers realize how wonderful and talented and essential they are), and to take pictures with anyone who asked.

When I got my picture taken with Jenny Lawson I looked awkward and starstruck standing behind her, trying not to touch her but be close enough to look like she actually cares about me, all while hiding a horrible breakout I had on my chest. So this time I embarrassingly but wonderfully asked to take a selfie, and Burroughs was not only more than happy to partake but put his arm around me, got as close as possible, and let me take two to make sure at least one was acceptable.

This is the good one where I look like a normal person taking a picture with her friend.

This is the funny one where I’m like “Holy fuck guys LOOK WHO’S TOUCHING ME”, But it’s still adorable, right?

The selfie thing totally worked out, by the way, because I’ve been breaking out like a 14-year-old lately and Burroughs mentioned that a facial he’d had a few days prior made him break out, but I’ve tweaked the light intake settings on my front camera to make us look flawless.

So in the end I got to experience a sincere reading, engage in extensive Q&A discussion, get every single book personally signed, take an everlasting selfie with my closest-thing-to-a-role-model, and partake in more personal conversation in which he told me he would remember my blog and check it out (Yes, I almost fainted) (Yes I’m also aware it might not happen). (If you’re reading this — I am crazy but I swear it’s usually in a good, quirky way.)

Then, high on life and experience and thinking magical thoughts and happiness, I went on my next #Before30BucketList adventure (coming soon).

Companions: Books, Augusten Burroughs, other fans

Cost Book for Son: $5 (I always bring him home a book when I go to a book signing) (Travel costs included in “Travel Alone” instead)

Goal # 3: Meet Favorite Author Accomplished: 3-27-2017

Bucket List Total: $129

#Before30BucketList: Meet Favorite Author (First, go to this post if you don’t know what my #Before30BucketList is. I’ll also be going back to that original post and noting each goal accomplished if you want to keep up but miss out on some of my posts.)