Before Stacey Q, before Cyndi Lauper, before Madonna, before Gwen Stefani there was the original recipe manic pixie dream girl, Clare Grogan. It was her work with the band Altered Images where the hyperactive, estrogen-drenched, squeaky-voiced adorableness many singers would later take to the bank first truly burst into the public consciousness.
I was clearly not the target demographic for Nü Metal. I was in my thirties by the time it rolled around, had already cycled through all the genres that fed into it, and had also spent a lot of time listening to the progenitors of the form (namely Faith No More and Nine Inch Nails).
So if I tell you Nü Metal seemed utterly prefabricated — and for the most part, supremely irritating — to me, I hope you’ll understand where that’s coming from. It’s coming from a place of love.
With New Wave now dominating the mainstream in 1983, new bands arose, taking the driver’s seat from the class of 1979. A lot of these bands were too esoteric for the majors or still hewed to punk idealism, so a new breed of independent record labels arose to serve their audiences.
College radio stations became the go-to outlet for these bands, which naturally thrived in towns with a lot of schools.
I have a truly shocking revelation to share with the world. I hope you’re sitting down.
Ready for this? OK, here it comes: TikTok Zoomers didn’t invent androgyny. They weren’t even the first generation to run around looking like rejects from a sideshow attraction. Zoomer girls, I mean Zoomer uterus havers, didn’t invent shaving the sides of your head and dyeing what's left weird and unnatural colors.
Mind-blowing, I know.
1983 was a huge year for Heavy Metal, and not only because of Quiet Riot’s soundalike cover of Slade’s 'Cum On Feel the Noize' sending the Metal Health LP to the top of the charts, the first metal band to ever do so.
1983 was one of those pivotal years when a new generation of kids took over and embraced a new generation of music. It was the first year that GenXers graduated high school and with the rise of MTV and few had time for the hoary, hairy heroes of yesteryear.
So while a host of acts found themselves on the wrong side of the generational divide, a number of the smarter dogs were able to learn some new tricks and stay atop the charts. It was all very exciting, since you had the New Wave pulling in influences from both disco and rock -- bitter rivals in the early 80s-- and creating this incredibly huge middle ground where all sorts of influences could meet and exchange musical body fluids.
We've already looked in great depth at what Bowie and The Police were serving up in '83, so let's have a look at how the Mainstream was striking back at the New Wave insurgency...
You can’t talk about 1983 without talking about Eurythmics, who bookended the year with two big hit LPs Sweet Dreams and Touch. Their sound wasn’t anything new for the genre but was certainly a bracing shock to be hearing on Top 40 radio at the time.
As with The Police’s Synchronicity and Michael Jackson’s Thriller, it’s impossible to talk about 1983 without talking about David Bowie’s multi-platinum LP, Let’s Dance.
At once both Bowie’s biggest-seller and his least-inspired album (at least until 1999’s somnolent Hours), Let’s Dance also marked both a commercial peak and the start of a very long and excruciating creative drought for the rock legend.
Whether you loved it or hated it, there’s no talking about 1983 without talking about the Police’s mega-smash Synchronicity, released 38 years ago last Thursday. The album even knocked Michael Jackson’s mighty Thriller off the top of the Billboard charts, a position it reached no less than 17 times.
Did I mention it was released on the 17th? Do I need to?
I've talked before about how 1983 was one of those threshold eras, when interesting new ideas and roiling subcultures were being fired by strange forces emanating from the ether. You kind of had to be there to get my full meaning, but suffice it to say the first (meaning "real") Stranger Things does a magnificent job of capturing the flavor.
'Tis the season for celebrated mythology: The Secret History of Rock 'N' Roll
Not many people realize it, but the Nineties ended May 17, 1998, when the last episode of the original X-Files series filmed in Vancouver aired. Hey, laugh if you must but the facts on the ground bear this out. Moreover, the Nineties actually began on August 23, 1988 when Jane’s Addiction released the first true prototype for the 90s rock album, Nothing’s Shocking.
1997 not only saw the continuing decline of the musical class of 1991 but also the decline of acts signed in the wake of Nirvana's black swan success. But that doesn't mean there weren't some big albums and a wide variety of very exciting music released that year.
Better yet, someone finally asked out loud the question that had been on everyone's mind for 20 years: How did Geddy Lee's voice get so high? Did he speak like an ordinary guy?
Oh, 1996. You saucy minx of a year. If I were to summarize you with a single music video, it would have to be a couple of muso goofballs doing cheesy Muzak remakes of then-current hits like "Black Hole Sun" on vintage synths. Sure feels like 1996 to me. How about you?
It is scientifically impossible to be sick of this video
1994 was another seminal year for Alternative Rock. So many landmark albums were released it boggles the mind to consider so much great music came out in just a 12-month period.
Disclaimer: great song not included with this video clip.
1993 reminds me a lot of 1983: a year in which the established mainstream gave way to a new sub-generational cohort, along with a new wave of very disparate bands being marketed as a coherent genre.
When life gets me down and the walls start closing in, I always reach for a surefire panacea: the coked-to-the-gills King Ad Rock showing off his favorite Flavor Flav moves while the Beasties rip through a frantic, frenetic run-through of their 1992 comeback hit, "What'Cha Want."
If I could recreate that effect in a lab and bottle it, I would.
Hello. Nice to see you again. Do you have some time to sit down and listen to some of my dreams?
No, I mean the soundtracks to my dreams.
What's that? No, I have no idea how they were able to record them. Sometimes it's better not to ask.
"Dina, can you honestly tell me that you forgot the magnetism of Robin Zander or the charisma of Rick Nielsen?""Eh, that's kids' stuff ..." Fast Times at Ridgemont High, 1982
The art I'm most entranced by is the art that feels like it was stolen from my dreams.
There's no ostensible pattern to this. Mulholland Drive, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Max Ernst, early Cocteau Twins, the first Devo album, Tubeway Army's Replicas, certain Industrial music videos, Jacob's Ladder, The Royal Tannebaums, My Bloody Valentine, Brian Eno's 70's work, The Go Team, and Cliff Martinez' Solaris soundtrack all strike very deep chords in me that I can't quantify, nor am I entirely sure I want to.
As tempting as it is to puzzle out exactly why this material triggers something so profound within me, I'm afraid over-analysis will break the spell.
Let’s face it: Rock 'n Roll is inherently ridiculous. Rock stars make a living wearing clothes that would get them laughed at on the street and striking poses that would get them beaten up at the pub. If you don't believe me, watch a Rolling Stones live DVD with the sound off. Or better yet, any Metal video from the 80’s.
I need to tell you all something: the catalyst for everything I’ve done on The Secret Sun -- and with Synchromysticism in general -- ultimately stems from a five-month period in 1984 in which I had a genuine religious experience during what I now see as a bonafide mystery cult convocation.
And that experience in turn set me on a Grail quest, which I am extremely happy to say was finally fulfilled last week, after thirty-seven long years. Along the way I learned a lot of invaluable, immersive lessons in shamanism, dream reality, parapolitics, establishmentarian cultism, the power of apocrypha and our false reality simulacrum.
Kinks guitarist Dave Davies isn't just the pioneer of the power-chord riff, he's also an experiencer. His 1994 autobiography Kink tells the story of how Davies believes he was contacted telepathically by alien intelligences...
Dave Stewart — one-half of ’80s duo Eurythmics with Annie Lennox, who’s gone on to collaborate with Mick Jagger, Bob Dylan and Katy Perry — says that since 1979 his body’s been inhabited by another being, who’s written all his songs.
Back when I was a kid the only you got to see your favorite rock bands was on late weekend nights -- usually Saturdays -- with shows like Don Kirschner's Rock Concert or Midnight Special.
I've been trying to wrap my head around the events of the past two weeks, on account it seems like somebody might have opened a Gate or broken a Seal somewhere. I'm still waiting for some fresh shoes to drop so please bear with me while the apocalyptic cake bakes. But then again, you don't probably need to tell you just how weird everything seems to have gotten out there, as if the Watchers may have come back from vacation and wanted to hit the ground running.
Note: this is a revised version of a 2009 post
Well, tonight is cold, rainy and oppressive- what better time to get out the old Goth videos? Like so many memes from my youth, Goth has now been mainstreamed, particularly with the smash success of Twilight and True Blood.
Which brings it all full circle, since the Goth aesthetic drew heavily on vampire mythology and Hammer horror films.
Metallic Mysteries and Headbanging Hellenes
Originally written for The Daily Grail by Christopher Knowles
It’s not a shocking new revelation to compare rock ‘n’ roll to ancient pagan rituals. Writers have been throwing the term “Dionysian” around since Elvis first showed that a white man could sing the blues. But as I discovered while writing my new book, The Secret History of Rock ‘n Roll, the parallels go much, much deeper than that.
