Was anyone else aware that Adam Ant apparently had a bit of a crackup back in 2003? Or that he's bipolar? I'm sorry to hear about this, for a couple of reasons. Mainly because there's just nothing fun about depression. (I can't speak for the "manic" part of the cycle, however.) It may seem overly glib or simplistic, but I can't think of a better way to put it -- there is just nothing fun about it. Those of you who have got depression know what I'm talking about. If you don't, good. You don't want it, and I wouldn't wish it on you.
I seem to have gotten off into a thing here. My life isn't so bad, really. We were talking about Adam Ant. The other reason I'm sorry to hear about his troubles is that he (and his Ants) helped me to overcome Music Shame.
Not to go on and on obsessively about my own mental problems -- although, really, what else is a blog good for? -- but I used to be inordinately concerned with other people's opinions of me. I mean, obviously, we all are, to a degree, unless you're a complete sociopath, but worrying too much about whether people think you're Worthy can be unhealthy and paralyzing. As with many adolescents and young adults, I viewed my personality largely as the sum of my record collection -- if you sought to know me, you need only peruse my albums and tapes to view a map of my soul. (Now I know better: I realize that my personality is the sum of my record collection and my book collection.) Then, as now, I had pretty idiosyncratic tastes, pretty much all over the map, but my tastes were not immune to peer pressure.
In my junior year of college, I took a class called "Social Problems," in which we found ourselves talking about Music as an Agent for Social Change or some shit like that. To that end, one day we watched most of "Motown 25," the 1983 special that famously launched Michael Jackson on the road to crazier-than-shithouse-rat-itude. (Tangent: According to "Standing in the Shadows of Motown," legendary bassist James Jamerson, who was as responsible as anyone for Motown's musical success but was mostly forgotten after the label split for California, was there when they filmed "Motown 25," watching from a crappy balcony seat. He died soon after.) I'm not sure why "Motown 25" was supposed to be helpful in our understanding of Social Problems. It probably had something to do with Marvin Gaye's performance of "What's Going On," but I don't remember seeing that. I'm sure we saw it, but I don't remember it. What I do remember is Adam Ant.
For there he was, trying to get through "Where Did Our Love Go." The best that can be said is that he did not acquit himself well. I'm the first to admit that there were bad choices made all around here, starting with the choice to invite him on the program in the first place. Adam Ant is many things, but "guardian of the musical legacy of the Supremes" is not among them. It just was not very good at all, is what I'm trying to say here.
The professor -- a good guy, basically, who I genuinely liked and respected -- sneered, "Anybody here have any Adam Ant records?" I did. I remember it being the "Kings of the Wild Frontier" cassette, but I also remember it having "Prince Charming" and "Stand and Deliver" on it, which weren't on "KotWF," so I don't know. But anyway, I quaveringly raised my hand, and most of the class stared at me. I should also mention here that my college, a conservative-leaning smallish South Carolina Southern Baptist institution, was, as a whole, not down with the New Romantic movement, especially vis-a-vis your tight-panted makeup-wearing quasi-pirate dudes. So, that day, I felt their scorn, their bemusement, their disapproval. I felt Music Shame.
I also felt Music Shame when a guy at the campus radio station, an older guy, pretty much a legend in the small circles of radio and theater geeks in which I also traveled, but who was also kind of a jackass at times, gave me shit for mentioning that I owned an Altered Images album. In retrospect, it was a pretty benign incident -- giving other people shit for their musical tastes is part of the joy of having musical taste to start with. And I had no room to squawk, considering the parcels of grief I and others regularly handed the program director, a big Scruffy the Cat fan.
It's conceivable that Radio Cool Guy may someday see this post and recognize himself in it. To him I say: sorry, but it's true. I like you a lot, but you could be kind of a jackass. At times. At least, I thought so. I'm sure I was kind of a jackass at times myself.
Anyway, for a while, those incidents made me forswear Adam and the Ants and Altered Images, respectively. I convinced myself that the tastes of people I respected should overwrite my own -- that they weren't matters of, you know, taste, but simply statements of fact. The professor and Radio Cool Guy said that my music was bad; it must therefore be so.
I wish I had a cool story about how I figured out that was bullshit, some huge revelatory incident or something, but the truth is I'm not sure how or when it happened. Irony certainly helped; when it started to become "cool" again to like new wave in the early '90s, I could reasses my tastes and come out of the closet, so to speak. But, really, the conclusion that I came to is: "fuck irony." I like what I like; life's too short to try to justify why I like something to the World at Large, or hide it behind a mask of protective irony.
No, Adam Ant should not have been permitted anywhere near the Motown catalog, but in his idiom, he was pretty awesome. Altered Images is not a band I would quit my job to follow around in a van, but "I Could Be Happy" and "Happy Birthday" are nearly flawless pop songs. If you don't agree, cool. You're probably into some shit that I don't particularly dig, either. We like what we like, and sometimes the only answer to "why" is "because."
What is the lesson of Adam Ant? Or, at least, what lesson did I learn? That there should be no guilty pleasures. If you like something, like the hell out of it. Own up to it. Be not ashamed. That's right, motherscratcher, that's "Antics in the Forbidden Zone" you see right near the beginning of the alphabet in my CD collection. Got something to say about it? Didn't think so.
Or, put more simply: "Ridicule is nothing to be scared of."
dude! altered images was great and completely awesome! there was that movie with Claire Grogan in it, and then Happy Birthday! and all of that!
(i might still have my highly-treasured altered images tape I bought when I was a teen)
irony just keeps people at arms-length. as does "cool."
Posted by: pinky | May 10, 2006 at 12:26 PM
That's a great lesson! And if one finds it hard to be all "eff you, sucker, I love Shakira" then it's fun to turn it back on them. "What? How could you not like Shakira? Man, that's messed up."
(Disclaimer: I don't really like Shakira. Or maybe I do. Depends on whether you like her or not.)
Posted by: lastewie | May 10, 2006 at 01:40 PM
Some kid in grade school once called me "gay" for not liking REO Speedwagon. I still don't like them, but I have been on "REO Speedwagon Way" in Champaign, Illinois.
I had completely forgotten that Clare Grogan was in the movies ("Gregory's Girl" and "Comfort and Joy," if others are curious -- both directed by Bill "Local Hero" Forsyth -- and I did have to look it up), and now, of course, I can't picture who she was in them. And I just watched "Comfort and Joy" again last December. Man.
Posted by: Jerry | May 10, 2006 at 01:52 PM
How could you not like REO? That's effed up. Man. I thought you had better taste than that.
Posted by: lastewie | May 10, 2006 at 01:59 PM
I realize that my personality is the sum of my record collection and my book collection AND my DVD collection.
I am, coincidentally, working on a mix CD called "Guilty Pleasures." Maybe I will come to terms with the music I love, as a result of reading this entry, and just call it "Pleasures."
Posted by: minty | May 10, 2006 at 04:39 PM
Altered Images, Claire Grogan and Gregory's Girl are freaking great because they're SCOTTISH!!!
I will confess to my secret unhip shames, one of which I already confessed to Minty and she didn't laugh in my face. Though that coughing fit was mighty suspicious.
I think that that 'Mister, I'll make a man out of you' song from Mulan isn't half bad. And sometimes Everybody Loves Raymond makes me laugh.
I have an extremely bad habit of making sweeping generalizations about someone based on their music and movie tastes. This in spite of the fact that I am way behind the curve on this stuff. For example, if someone tells me their favorite movie is Top Gun, then any respect I had for them - pouf!
Posted by: Marianne | May 10, 2006 at 05:30 PM
Stewpants: OH SNAP
Minty: Good point. I'll have to add "DVD collection" to the list of "things in which my soul is stored."
Marianne: I somehow sensed that mentioning enough Scottish stuff would draw a favorable comment from you. I'm about a fourth Scottish myself, so... solidarity, my sister! Or whatever Scottish people say. And "Everybody Loves Raymond" sometimes doesn't suck nearly as much as I might expect it to. And I try to only make sweeping generalizations about people based on their spelling and grammar. (Everybody who comments on this blog employs exemplary spelling and grammar, by the way, even if sometimes the author of this blog does not. Give yourselves a hand, everyone!)
Posted by: Jerry | May 10, 2006 at 10:52 PM
Making fun of someone for liking Adam Ant is like making fun of someone for liking puppies. They probably only listen to boring, "correct" old man rock!
I wonder if YouTube has that Motown 25 clip. I had no idea about that!
Posted by: Amanda | May 11, 2006 at 10:16 AM
My motto has always been "no guilty pleasures, only shameless ones." Whenever someone attempts to ridicule my affection for some band (or book or film, etc.) or another, I merely gape at them in astonishment, and then arrange my features in a look of gentle disappointment that they should be so closed-minded.
Of course, if they happen to like something that patently sucks, I just say something like, "yeah, I guess that's just not really meant for me," which of course clearly implies that the sort of person for whom such a thing was meant is obviously crack-addled. And if they try to call me out on my witheringly dismissive attitude, I just deny it, saying, "What? I didn't say anything bad about it, I just said it's not for me."
I have my cake and eat it too! Aces!
(OK, as far as that second paragraph goes, I don't really do that anymore on account of it's really not very nice. But, oh my, once upon a time I had fewer compunctions about being not-very-nice...)
Posted by: Fikri | May 11, 2006 at 10:58 AM
You know, I haven't been able to stop thinking about Adam Ant since yesterday. I remember that "Friend or Foe" was in the shipment of free albums I got the first time I joined Columbia House record club, in 1982, and I remember exactly where I was sitting when I opened the box, and trying to decide which of the dozen or so albums to listen to first. The only other album I remember from that group is Marvin Gaye's "Midnight Love" (the one with "Sexual Healing" on it). I just looked at the tracklisting for "Friend or Foe" and was amazed at how many of the songs came back to me just from seeing their titles—even the ones that weren't on the radio. I haven't listened to that (vinyl) album in many many years, but I must have played the hell out of it back in '82. And I think I might be playing it again this weekend! Antmusic 4-evah!
Posted by: minty | May 11, 2006 at 11:10 AM
Amanda: I couldn't find it on YouTube, but I just spent about an hour looking at old XTC videos. (Infuriatingly, I couldn't find "Senses Working Overtime.") I love XTC even more than I love Adam and the Ants, but it was always "okay" to like them, so I felt no Music Shame.
Fikri: I should have mentioned that you were a big inspiration to me in dismissing the idea of guilty pleasures. In fact, I think the words "Fuck irony, man," came out of your mouth while we were talking about this once. Your motto sums up in six words what it took me over 1000 to try to express.
Minty: My first shipment from the RCA Record (cassette, in my case) Club included "Ghost in the Machine" and "Abacab," and I don't remember what else. I think I had requested "Beauty and the Beat," but it was out of stock. I never owned "Friend or Foe," but a lot of the stuff from it ended up on "Antics." The first time I ever tried to make a tape full of dancable music for a party, much of the stuff I put on was pretty ineffective. But the minute "Goody Two-Shoes" came on, there was a huge collective stampede to the dance floor. People didn't even have to think about it; they just heard the "bang-a-BANG-a-bang-a-BANG-a-bang-a-BANG-a-bang-a-BANG-a" and the "doot doot doot de doo-doot" of the opening and their lizardlike hindbrains took over. It was beautiful. I learned something that night.
Posted by: Jerry | May 11, 2006 at 11:53 AM
I am a big old snob (and I reserve the right to contradict myself, too) but shopping at snottier-than-you indie record stores for many years gave me an "f-you, supercilious clerk" attitude for a while. Now I either buy music at CD Alley (where everyone is nice) or online, where no one will give you the You Are So Uncool Look for buying..whatever.
I loved Abacab, and I knew it by heart. Foreigner 4, too.
Posted by: pinky | May 11, 2006 at 12:23 PM
I used to be a musical fascist, and I looked down with disdain on those with other tastes. But then I discovered girls. In the early 80s, I wanted to impress one such girl (she had a rattail) so I got tickets to an Adam Ant concert in Fayetteville. I kept trying to social engineer my way past the hotel security (I even grabbed some cases and tried to blend in with the roadies but got busted) to win her heart with back stage access. Despite failing at that (and ultimately with the girl) I really enjoyed the concert, and since then I tend to find something with almost any artist and genre that I can appreciate.
Posted by: Tarus | May 11, 2006 at 02:59 PM
I will take this opportunity to finally admit to others (as I just recently admitted to myself) that I have been a closet fan of Phil Collins for many years. Only the love songs, though. Not all the Sussudio bullshit. And that I recently bought a cd called "Phil Collins Love Songs". And that I listen to it a lot.
I'm trying to ditch the shame here, but no dice.
Posted by: michele | May 12, 2006 at 08:38 AM
I had maybe three assorted albums when I was in high school, and yet, curiously enough, I was not lacking in personality. Just albums.
Through my life, much of what I really, really like has wandered far off the beaten path, and I just didn't care what people thought, because, most of the time, they don't.
And Phil Collins has excellent love songs.
Posted by: La BellaDonna | May 12, 2006 at 09:56 AM
I still have a soft spot in my heart for Duran Duran. When I replaced my stolen "7 and the Ragged Tiger", I made sure to buy it from the snootiest place in town. 'Cos I like being sneered at by people making money selling stuff they hate. Or I'm a glutton for punishment. Either way.
Posted by: Lee | May 12, 2006 at 12:12 PM
I saw Duran Duran play at the House of Blues for the reunion tour in 2004 - I waited 20 years to see them (they were the sole reason for my being during their heyday). It was me, a gazillion other 30-something women, their misfortunate significant others, and a bunch of gay guys. It was awesome. And, oddly enough, the second loudest concert that I've ever attended (Metallica being the loudest).
But now, I have to admit, I'm a total music snob. With secrets!
Posted by: michelle | May 12, 2006 at 12:54 PM
Back when Jerry and I were sharing a high school, I used to write "Adam and the Ants" (with the requisite backward D) on the blackboards at the beginning of my English and algebra classes. I even learned got Mrs. Wentz to show me how to (sort of) do it in Latin. One day I was mocked by Copland Arnold who wrote "Phil and the Pharts" on the blackboard. I felt no shame. Only pride.
"Ridicule is nothing to be scared of", indeed.
Posted by: Phil | May 15, 2006 at 02:19 AM