The band guy’s footprints forged the genre’s path from the early 1960s onward, from Liverpool’s grubby Cavern Club to Seattle’s dingy Dutchman rehearsal space, in leather boots and Converse sneakers. Blending Hobbit-like charm with Aragorn-ish glamor, this figure took shape within the dreams of countless men following in the wake of John, Paul, George and Ringo teaming up as the Fab Four. The romance, familial connection and creative exchange that sparked for The Beatles in their Cavern Club days grew mythic as they became the biggest act rock ever produced, pulling rock’s ring from the hands of solo artists and duos and making fellowship the primary energy empowering rock’s quest. Over the decades, band guys traded leather for Spandex for skateboarder shorts, blew up the genre like punks and reassembled it as grunge; but what bore repeating was that story of men growing up together through music, turning into a family and finding glory on the battlefields of rhythm and noise.
Associated with this is the irony that as the world was becoming less segregated, music was become more so with the appropriation women and culture. In particular, “The Beatles brought white America a sense of relief.”
It’s not a coincidence that the music industry itself became more segregated during a period when civil rights defined the spirit of protest in America. The Beatles and the other English soul transformers/appropriators that quickly followed in their wake, from The Rolling Stones to Joe Cocker, personally protested the divisions that greeted them on tour and sometimes in the recording studio; yet as they became rock’s norm, they allowed white fans to enjoy what the late great music writer Greg Tate identified as a pasteurized form of Black culture: “everything but the burden.”
Women of any race were also pushed out of the band-guy narrative, despite the very real roles they played in the British Invasion, from Tina Turner teaching Mick Jagger how to move to The Shirelles inspiring The Beatles’ harmonies.
This is an insightful piece. It had me thinking about the balance of guys and girls in Dave Grohl’s autobiography. Although there was discussion of Joan Jett, this was wedged in-between living in the van and Pantera’s strip club.
It also had me thinking about Damian Cowell’s discussion of white male rock in his podcast. What is intriguing is how the group may change, but the myth carries on.
The group sound doesn’t always feed the myth of the band guy, but as water tends to find its own level, it’s become intertwined with it. It’s not imaginary, this sense that musicians making music together over time produce something that both enhances and exceeds each participant especially when they are composing together. This is one way to understand jazz, for example. But in rock the fascination with “the group sound” melded with a romantic view of masculine freedom and prowess that made the band not just a conduit for artistry, but a way of life. Even as the multiracial revolution disco wrought overtook it in the 1970s and, simultaneously, punk’s antics knocked it down a peg, the band lived on as the most potent signifier of rock’s ability, in the words of its post-1970s high priest Bruce Springsteen, to “bust this city in half.”
A thinking activity I like to use is to give an answer and then come up with the question. This month it feels like I have been the answer for far too many questions. Whether it be calling out problematic workflows, sorting out integration concerns, identifying access issues, fixing up spreadsheets, the answer for each seems to be me. In part it it has left me feeling like a failure in that I have not adequately built the capacity of others to sort things out, but sometimes in life when we find someone who can get things done we just go to them.
Sadly, as I started back at work in the second week of January, I did not have a much a break over Christmas. Just enough time to get a few things done around the house, such as fixing the shower. As well as catching up with a some friends. I had forgotten how much I missed in catch up with people in person. The mixed blessing is that my family and I subsequently stayed around home for much of the school holidays even though we were not in lockdown.
Personally, I have continued reading Proustâs Rembrance of Things Past, while I have been listening to The Weeknd and The Wombats. I have also been watching a lot, including Eternals, Tolkien, The Punisher and various documentaries on WWII and tanks.
Here then are some of the posts that have had me thinking:
Education
Why Wordle Works, According to Desmos Lesson Developers
Approaching Wordle from the perspective of learning and teaching, Dan Meyer summarises the ingredients that have helped make it work so well.
5 strategies for reading complex texts
Rather than simply relying on simpler texts, Alex Quigley discusses some strategies for supporting students with grappling with more difficult texts.
How to Build the Perfect Castle
Epic History TV walks through many of the different variables in the process of building the perfect castle.
Technology
The History of the School Bell
Audrey Watters pushes back on the idea of the factory model in regards to the history of the school bell.
AI Wonât Steal Your Job, But Itâll Sure Make It Suck
Whether it be food delivery drivers working for a phantom boss or Amazon workers unable to stop for the toilet, Clive Thompson provides examples of the way in which AI has made some jobs suck.
General
The Fellowship of the Rockers
Ann Powers uses Get Back to reflect upon the myth of âband guysâ.
On Songwriting
Through a series of posts, Kevin Hodgson explores his process of songwriting.
Monks, a polymath and an invention made by two people at the same time. Itâs all in the history of the index
Anna Kelsey-Sugg and Julie Street discuss Dennis Duncan research into the index.
The Problem With âNo Regretsâ
Arthur Brooks explains that the challenge with regret is to acknowledge the past and use it for learning and improvement.
Read Write Respond #072
So that was January for me, how about you? As always, hope you are safe and well, especially during this latest wave.
Image by Bryan Mathers
Inspired by the eruption of the volcano in Tonga, cover image via âSheffield LEGO fest 2006: Volcanoâ by aldisley is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND
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My Rock ânâ Roll Friend is the story of Lindy Morrison told by Tracey Thorn. It is compiled from a range of sources, including interviews, letters between the two artists, diary entries provided by Morrison herself, as well as existing accounts of The Go-betweens, such as an interview with Andrew Denton and Kriv Stendersâ documentary Right Here.
On the one hand Thorn goes into Morrisonâs life in The Go-Betweens as you would expect. However, she goes beyond the tales told by and about Robert Forster and Grant McLennan as âthe indie Lennon and McCartneyâ to provide a different perspective on how things were with an attempt to correct the record.
Thorn makes the claim that the band were always really a classic three-piece, with other members coming and going:
Appealing to the reality beyond the myth surrounding Forster and McLennanâs friendship, Thorn suggests that denying Morrisonâs contribution is the âfinal act of self-sabotageâ.
Thorn, also broadens out to provide a different perspective on Morrison, one that goes beyond the âforce of natureâ:
Thorn explores Morrisonâs life before The Go-Betweens, her discovery of feminism, work with Queensland Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Legal Service, relationships with Denis Walker, activism in Joh Bjelke-Petersenâs Queensland, participation in the world of theatre, hitching around Europe, and playing in punk group, Xero. However, most importantly, Thorn captures a more more human fragile side to Morrison, especially when exploring Morrisonâs letters she used to write to herself when growing up.
As Kitty Empire highlights, âthis is a book about more than music.â It captures identity, friendship, culture, Gina Arnold suggests that, âthe book is a reminder of the present, with Thorn using Morrisonâs story to show the myriad ways that women continue to be underserved in the world of rock, despite being integral to it on every level.â
Listening to The Go-Betweens albums, I have always felt that they all seemed to lead to 16 Lovers Lane. However, after reading Thornâs account, I have been left thinking that another way of viewing the before and after 16 Lovers Lane is a story of Lindy Morrison and everything that she brought to the âthree pieceâ. I was also reminded about Ann Powersâ discussion of âband guysâ wondering what she might add to this conversation.
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Review: My Rock ânâ Roll Friend by Tracey Thorn by Aaron Davis is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.