Submission

Sex Pistols: 'Submission' (1977) [1]

 

I. 

 

According to Rotten's recollection, it was Malcolm who suggested the band should write a BDSM-themed song with the title 'Submission' - they were, after all, called the SEX Pistols, although only guitarist Steve Jones seemed to have an eye for the ladies, Rotten once famously dismissing the act of love as merely a couple of minutes squelching [2].

 

So perhaps no surprise that Rotten would decide to interpret the word submission as sub-mission, i.e., a submarine mission and write a song that is less about kinky sex of the sort McLaren fantasised and more about an immersive experience with a mysterious girl and her watery love [3].   

 

Reflecting on the song years later, Rotten said that whilst he and other band members enjoyed the punning humour of 'Submission', Malcolm failed to see the joke and, as a result, didn't ever attempt to suggest or shape the lyrical content of a song again, which, if true, is a shame; for Malcolm was clearly the guiding spirit and intelligence of everything that came out of 430 Kings Road, including the Sex Pistols [4]. 

 

 

II. 

 

One assumes that McLaren was hoping Rotten might come up with something simlar to 'Venus in Furs' by the Velvet Underground, a track inspired by Masoch's famous novel of that title published in 1870 [5]. 

 

Unfortunately, however, Rotten is no Lou Reed and, as noted, kinky themes of sadomasochism, bondage, and submission mean nothing to him - or, at most, they provide an opportunity to mock those who do take these things seriously. Sex, style and subversion may be central to McLaren's philosophy and aesthetic, but Rotten is all about sarcasm, scorn and sneering. 

 

In a sense, Malcolm might have been better off kicking Rotten out of the band earlier than he did and bringing in another talented young singer-songwriter, namely, Adam Ant, who immediately quit the pub rock outfit Bazooka Joe (for whom he played bass) after seeing the Sex Pistols in November 1975 [6]. 

 

Adam soon fell in with key figures on the London punk scene, including Jordan, who famously worked at SEX, and, unlike Rotten, he was more than happy to explore the pervy world of fetish, producing some fantastic songs on the subject, such as 'Whip in My Valise' and 'Beat My Guest' [7]. He even coined a motto for his band Adam and the Ants which read: Ant music for sex people. 

 

Unfortunately, it would be two years after the breakup of the Sex Pistols, in January 1980, before McLaren finally paid attention to Adam and agreed to manage - or, more accurately, mentor - him for a month, receiving a flat fee of a £1000. It was from Malcolm, that Adam got his pirate-Apache look and the Burundi drum sound - so a bargain, really, although it also cost him the loss of his band, who left with McLaren to form Bow Wow Wow ... but that's another post.

 

 

Notes

 

[1] Never Mind the Bollocks, Here's the Sex Pistols (Virgin, 1977) was originally released as an 11-track album, but included 'Submission' as a one-sided 7" single. It was soon added to the album and the 2012 remastered version can be heard by clicking here.

 

[2] See Charles M. Young's feature on (and interviews with) the Sex Pistols - 'Rock is Sick and Living in London' - in Rolling Stone (20 Oct 1977): click here. 

      Asked if he shares Sid's view that sex is boring, Rotten replies: "Love is two minutes and fifty seconds of squelching noises. It shows your mind isn't clicking right." It was a quote greatly appreciated by the writer Aubron Waugh.

[3] It's possible, of course, that Rotten has, in fact, penned an erotic number - even if it was primarily designed to annoy McLaren. Repeatedly singing about going down, for example, suggests an interest in oral sex and when Rotten refers to her undercurrent flowing one can't help but imagine that the song references either female ejaculation or golden showering. Ultimately, whilst I have no idea if Rotten has a penchant for urophilia, it's undeniably the case that he enjoys taking the piss. 

[4] Rotten would like the world to to believe that he almost singlehandedly wrote the songs, only begrudgingly admitting the role played by other band members. But it's hard to imagine that he would have come up with 'Anarchy in the U.K.' without McLaren putting ideas in his head and 'Pretty Vacant' was almost certainly written at the latter's instigation after he was inspired by Richard Hell's 'Blank Generation' (I discussed this in an earlier post that can be accessed by clicking here).   

 

[5] 'Venus in Furs', by the Velvet Underground - a band managed by McLaren's artistic hero Andy Warhol - was originally released on the 1967 album The Velvet Underground & Nico. Readers who wish to listen can click here.

 

[6] In fact, the Sex Pistols - playing their first ever show - opened for Bazooka Joe at Saint Martin's Art College on 6 November, 1975.   

 

[7] 'Whip in My Valise' originally featured as the B-side of the Adam and the Ants single 'Zerox', released in July 1979. It was also added to the 1983 re-issue of the album Dirk Wears White Sox.

      'Beat My Guest' would eventually turn up as the B-side of 'Stand and Deliver', a single released in May 1981, and on the compilation album B-Side Babies (1994) Click here for the first of these tracks and here for the latter. 

When Melvyn Met Malcolm (A Brief Reflection on The South Bank Show Episode 178)

Malcolm McLaren - Boy George - Adam Ant

The South Bank Show (S8/E9 - 1984)

 

The South Bank Show is a British television programme which treats high art and popular culture with equal respect. Conceived, written, and presented by Melvyn Bragg, it was originally produced by LWT and broadcast on ITV between 1978 and 2010 [1]. 

Of the many excellent episodes during this period - and there are over 730 to choose from - I suppose my favourite is the one broadcast on 2 December 1984 (S8/E9) [2], featuring Malcolm McLaren and filmed whilst the latter was recording Fans - his amusing attempt to fuse opera with R&B [3]. 

 

It's not just that the film provides an excellent insight into Malcolm's thinking, it also reveals how two of his protégés - Adam Ant and Boy George - really didn't understand his motivation, or quite get what the spirit of punk was really all about; namely, a desire not merely to question authority and challenge conventions, but destroy success (i.e., the very thing these ambitious, hard-working pop stars most wanted).   

 

When speaking about Malcolm, George, for example, says: 

 

"He's somebody who's capable of being absolutely brilliant. But for some reason, you know, he's someone who regards success as being anti what he believes in and he gets to a certain level then he wants to smash the wall down." 

 

Whilst Adam confesses (with the same disbelief at McLaren's anarcho-nihilism): 

"I don't understand all the anarchist stuff, with him. Obviously, that's a lot to do with his youth, or whatever. He likes to do things [...] and afterwards he just smashes it all to bits, he just destroys it." [4]

 

This, of course, is precisely the aspect of McLaren I most admired; the fact that, in his own words, he was not an empire builder ...

 

 

Notes

 

[1] A new version of the series began broadcasting on Sky Arts in May 2012. 

 

[2] As Paul Gorman reminds us, this episode was the brainchild of director Andy Harries and, crucially, it "conferred importance to McLaren's position in British cultural life". See The Life and Times of Malcolm McLaren, (Constable, 2020), pp. 555-56.

 

[3] Fans was McLaren's second studio album released on Charisma Records (1984). Although not an entirely convincing or successful experiment, the album did give rise to the astonishing single 'Madame Butterfly (Un bel dì vedremo)' and the steamy video that accompanied it, directed by the fashion photographer Terence Donovan: click here.

 

[4] Boy George and Adam Ant interviewed on The South Bank Show S8/E9 (1984): click here and go to 3:42 - 4:08. 

 

 

There's No Fool Like an Old Fool: Notes on the Case of Gustav von Aschenbach

Dirk Bogarde as Gustav von Aschenbach

in Death in Venice (1971)

 

 

I. 

 

For gentlemen of a certain age - let's say over 50 - be they gay or straight, poets, pederasts, or punk rockers still dreaming of the Summer of Hate, the sorry tale of Gustav von Aschenbach [1] remains a crucial warning against vainly attempting to summon up the passions of youth, or cling on to one's looks at the risk of losing one's dignity in the process ...

 

 

II. 

 

Gustav von Aschenbach is a small, dark, clean-shaven writer in his fifties: 

 

"His head seemed a bit too large in comparison with his almost dapper figure. His hair was brushed straight back, thinning out towards the crown, but very full about the temples, and strongly marked with grey; it framed a high, ridged forehead. Gold spectacles with rimless lenses cut into the bridge of his bold, heavy nose. The mouth was big, sometimes drooping, sometimes suddenly pinched and firm. His cheeks were thin and wrinkled, his well-formed chin had a slight cleft." 

 

If he doesn't sound a particularly handsome chap, there's no reason to think him an ugly blighter; he's simply a middle-aged intellectual, conscious of the fact that he's in a terminal state of physical decline. 

 

One day, however, Aschenbach is gripped by a new feeling; "a peculiar inner expansion, a kind of roving unrest, a youthful longing after far-off places". This feeling is "so vivid, so new, or so long dormant and neglected", that it literally stops him in his tracks: "It was the desire for travel, nothing more; although, to be sure, it had attacked him violently, and was heightened to a passion ..."

 

And so he decides to take himself off on holiday and books a room at the Grand Hotel des Bains [2] on that tiny island in the Venetian lagoon known as the Lido.    

 

Whilst aboard ship en route to the island, Aschenbach encounters a group of high-spirited young people:

"They made a considerable fuss about themselves and their enterprise, chattered, laughed, enjoyed their own antics self-contentedly [...]  One, in a bright yellow summer suit of ultra-fashionable cut, with a red necktie, and a rakishly tilted panama, surpassed all the others in his crowing good humour." 

 

However, as soon as Aschenbach observed the latter a bit more carefully, he realised with a kind of horror that he was, in fact, an atrocious old man attempting to pass for a youth by disguising himself with cosmetics, prosthetics, and dandyish attire: 

 

"There were wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. The faint crimson of the cheeks was paint, the hair under his brilliantly decorated straw hat was a wig; his neck was hollow and stringy, his turned-up moustache and the imperial on his chin were dyed; the full set of yellow teeth which he displayed when he laughed, a cheap artificial plate; and his hands, with signet rings on both index fingers, were those of an old man. Fascinated with loathing, Aschenbach watched him in his intercourse with his friends. Did they not know, did they not observe that he was old, that he was not entitled to wear their bright, foppish clothing, that he was not entitled to play at being one of them?"

 

Later during the journey at sea, Aschenbach again encounters the group of revellers on deck, all happily drinking bottles of Italian sparkling wine:

 

"But it was repulsive to see what a state the primped-up old man had been brought to by his comradeship with youth. His old head was not able to resist its wine like the young and robust: he was painfully drunk. With glazed eyes, a cigarette between his trembling fingers, he stood in one place, swaying backwards and forwards from giddiness, and balancing himself laboriously. Since he would have fallen at the first step, he did not trust himself from the spot - yet he showed a deplorable insolence, buttonholed everyone who came near him, stammered, winked, and tittered, lifted his wrinkled, ornamented index finger in a stupid attempt at bantering, while he licked the corners of his mouth with his tongue in the most abominably suggestive manner."

 

That's not a good look or appropriate behaviour even for a young man - but for a man of mature years it really is deplorable and depressing. The irony, of course, is that after becoming besotted with a beautiful teenage boy dressed in a sailor suit, Aschenbach increasingly starts to resemble the above. 

 

For when not perving on Tadzio and secretly following him around Venice, Aschenbach spends hours in front of the mirror, staring at his grey hair and the signs of fatigue which plunge him into shame and despair. In an attempt to reverse the signs of ageing, he visits the hotel's barber shop, where he is persuaded to have his hair dyed and to use moisturiser and make-up, so as to freshen up the skin a little.

 

In addition, Aschenbach "added bright youthful details to his dress, put on jewels, and used perfumes" and - hey presto! - before long he has transformed himself into a flamboyant old queen; his eyes sparkling, his wrinkles smoothed away with lotions and creams, his lips full once more and as red as raspberries ... 

 

Now, at last, he was ready to fall in love without hesitation; for  he had been rejuvinated and looked young once more (in his own mind at least). 

 

Sadly, however, Aschenbach never does get to hold Tadzio; for shortly after this he falls victim to the cholera outbreak then sweeping Venice and dies.

 

III. 

 

Just to be clear: I don't want to perpetuate myths of passivity and sexlessness when it comes to older people and I don't wish to appear ageist. 

 

However, I do think that one should age with style and good grace and that means - as Deleuze and Guattari say [3] - extracting the molecular elements, the forces and flows, that constitute the youth of whatever age one happens to be, rather than attempting to look and act like an adolescent. 

But then, what do I know? It's Gustav von Aschenbach and not me who now has a successful fashion label named after him [4] and maybe even an old fool dressed like a clown is ultimately preferable to some young member of the fashion police dictating what is and is not appropriate attire for every age group. 

 

As Adam Ant beseeched fans young and old in his Prince Charming phase: Don't you ever stop being dandy ... ridicule is nothing to be scared of [5].

 

 

Notes

 

[1] Gustav von Aschenbach is the main character in Thomas Mann's 1912 novella Der Tod in Venedig and, arguably, one of the most iconic figures within modern European literature - particularly after he was played by Dirk Bogarde in Luchino Visconti's 1971 film adaptation of the story (Morte a Venezia). 

      An English translation of Mann's novella, by Kenneth Burke, was published in periodical form in The Dial in 1924 and then in book form by Alfred A. Knopf the following year, as Death in Venice and Other Stories. There have been numerous editions and several translations since, but Burke's remains an excellent translation and can be read online thanks to Project Gutenberg: click here. All quotations in this post are taken from this e-book (which is why there are no page numbers supplied).

 

[2] The Grand Hotel des Bains was a former luxury hotel built in 1900 to attract wealthy tourists. Thomas Mann stayed there in 1911 and Luchino Visconti also shot scenes for his film at the hotel. It closed in 2010 and awaits conversion into an exclusive apartment complex.    

 

[3] See Gilles Deleuze and Félix Guattari, A Thousand Plateaus, trans. Brian Massumi, (University of Minnesota Press, 1987), p. 277. 

      Deleuze and Guattari also offer the following remark that those concerned about getting older might like to consider: "There are times when old age produces not eternal youth but a sovereign freedom, a pure necessity in which one enjoys a moment of grace between life and death ..." See What is Philosophy?, trans. Hugh Tomlinson and Graham Burchell, (Columbia University Press, 1994), p. 1.

 

[4] German-born fashion designer Robert Geller established a new line in 2017, named after the protagonist of Death in Venice. Made with Japanese fabrics, the pieces have a pretreated broken-in look and a slightly more commercial price point. Geller chose to name the range after Gustav von Aschenbach because, like the character, he suddenly become aware of his own age, having turned 40 in 2016. 

      Readers who wish to know more (and see some of the designs) can click here for an article by Nick Remsen in Vogue (10 July 2017), entitled 'Who is Gustav von Aschenbach and What Does Robert Geller Have to Do With Him?' 

 

[5] Adam and the Ants, 'Prince Charming', the number one hit single released from the album of the same title (CBS, 1981): click here for the official video directed by Mike Mansfield and Adam Ant. Whilst I agree with Adam that it's important to display a certain dandyism and rise above ridicule, I really don't think it was advisable for Marco to attempt the look he goes for in this video.    

 

Bonus: click here to watch the original 1971 trailer for Visconti's Death in Venice (now in HD). 

 

This post is for Thomas Bonneville who suggested the idea to me. Thanks also to Maria Thanassa and Catherine Brown for sharing their insights into Visconti's film version of Death in Venice (1971).  

 

 

Plastic Ants (There Might Come a Day When They're Treading On You)

Lasius plasticus

 

I. 

 

The world isn't actually going to turn Day-Glo as Poly Styrene predicted [1], but it - and the life that it supports - is going to become progressively plastic at every level, including the molecular, as chemical additives known as phthalates - used to increase the flexibility, transparency, and durability of plastic - are released into the environment at ever greater levels.  

It's not just ourselves we are transforming with these things, even insects, for example are undergoing an artificial metamorphosis, as a study of ants by Alain Lenoir from a few years ago made clear ...

 

II. 

 

Investigating the biochemical process by which the common black ant can differentiate between friends and foes, Dr. Lenoir discovered to his suprise the presence of phthalates alongside hydrocarbons in the creature's protective cuticle. And this was true not just in a few specimens, but all of them.     

 

Other researchers had previously reported such findings, but Lenoir had been sceptical and suspected that the presence of phthalates was due to contamination within the lab. However, he could now see for himself the startling fact that all of the ants that he and his team studied were contaminated with phthalates, no matter where they originated [2]. 

 

Now, whilst there are serious concerns related to the presence of phthalates within living organisms - including us - it's probably too late to worry too much now and, who knows, maybe they'll have some positive evolutionary effect in the long term ... 

 

Maybe, for example, the ants will become a cyborg species with an artificially enhanced exoskeleton - super-ants, if you will, who might end up one day treading on us just as Adam forewarned ... [3]

 

 

Notes

 

[1] I'm referring here to the classic punk single by X-Ray Spex, 'The Day the World Turned Day-Glo', from the album Germ Free Adolescents (EMI, 1978). Click here to watch the band - fronted by Poly Styrene who wrote the track - perform it on Top of the Pops.

 

[2] To see how widespread the problem of phthalates in ants was, Lenoir and his team tested six-legged subjects from several countries around the world, including Spain, Greece, Morocco, and Egypt. In every case, the ants - which were not believed to have had any direct contact with plastic - tested positive (although in some cases only trace amounts were found). They also tested crickets and bees, just for comparison, and the result was the same.   

 

[3] I'm referring here to the single 'Ant Music', by Adam and the Ants, released from the album Kings of the Wild Frontier (CBS, 1980), which contains the wonderful verse: 'Don't tread on an ant, he's done nothing to you / There might come a day when he's treading on you / Don't tread on an ant, you'll end up black and blue / You cut off his head, legs come looking for you'. Click here to watch the official video on YouTube. 

 

For a follow up post to this one - on the prospect of a posthuman world dominated by ants - click here.  

Colaphology: On the Politics and Pleasure of Turning the Other Cheek

Iconic image of Tyler Durden 

by digital artist Gedo: gedogfx

 

If you turn the other cheek, you will get a harder blow on it than you got on the first one. 

This does not always happen, but it's to be expected. And you ought not to bitch about it if it does happen. 

 - The gospel according to St. Tyler

 

 

It's commonly believed that when Jesus instructs his followers to turn the other cheek he is offering a moral rejection of revenge and retaliation and promoting a politics of pacifism and non-violence [1]. 

 

But couldn't it be that, actually, this is a form of ironic defiance; one that not only confuses one's enemy but renders them (momentarily at least) impotent; a strategy that Baudrillard calls seduction and cheerfully describes in terms of the revenge of the object [2].   

 

We see a perfect illustration of this in the scene from David Fincher's Fight Club (1999) in which Tyler Durden allows himself to be savagely beaten by the owner of Lou's Tavern when the latter discovers that his basement is being used as an illicit venue. 

 

Having repeatedly struck Tyler full in the face, Lou is at a loss what to do next; he has been robbed of his power to act by Tyler's mocking passivity and so can only concede to Tyler's request to be allowed continued use of the basement as a fight club [3].   

 

Of course, there's something perverse (if not psychotic) about Tyler's behaviour in this scene; his mad laughter betrays the fact that - to paraphrase Adam Ant - there's so much happiness behind his tears [4]. 

 

Similarly, the passion of Christ also involved a masochistic acceptance of extreme pain, humiliation, and martydom, so that the Son of God could achieve his moral victory with tongue pressed firmly in turned cheek as he hangs naked and erect upon the Cross [5].

 

 

Notes 

[1] See Matthew 5: 39 in the New Testament. The King James Version reads: "But I say unto you, that ye resist not evil: but whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also." 

      This moral teaching forms a key component of Jesus's Sermon on the Mount, but its interpretation is far from agreed. New Testament scholar R. T. France, for example, rejects the translation of the word anthistemi, as 'resist' in the general sense of the term. In the original Greek, he says, ἀνθὶστημι translates more accurately as 'do not resist by legal means'. For France, therefore, the view that Jesus is advocating a politics of non-violence - to the point of facilitating further aggression agaist oneself - is a misunderstanding

      As for the curious fact that Jesus explicitly speaks of the right cheek being hit, this is probably best explained not in terms of the left-hand being associated with evil (though there are numerous instances of this association to be found in the Bible), but as evidence of a back-handed slap; still a powerful gesture of contempt today. To slap with the palm of the hand is an act of violence, but it is not a grave insult nor intended to remind the person being struck of their social inferiority. 

      See: R. T. France, The Gospel According to Matthew: An Introduction and Commentary (Varsity Press, 1985). 

 

[2] See Jean Baudrillard, Seduction, trans. Brian Singer, (St. Martin's Press, 1990). 

      Arguably, there is a parallel (of sorts) between Baudrillard's thinking on seduction and the revenge of the object and Christian anarchism à la Tolstoy. Whilst I wouldn't want to make too much of this, it might also be noted how the American biblical scholar and theologian Walter Wink - a key figure in the movement to reform Christian belief in line with postmodern philosophy - clearly picks up on the subversive elements of Jesus's teaching which challenge traditional power structures by turning the tables. See his book Engaging the Powers: Discernment and Resistance in a World of Domination, (Fortress Press, 1992).       

 

[3] To watch this scene from Fight Club (dir. David Finch, 1999), starring Brad Pitt as Tyler Durden and featuring Peter Iacangelo as Lou, click here. 

[4] Adam and the Ants, 'Beat Me', B-side of the single 'Stand and Deliver' (CBS Records, 1981). The track - an old song from Adam's punk days - later featured on the compilation album B-Side Babies (Epic Records, 1994): click here. 

      Those readers interested in the kinky aspects of face slapping as a form of rough play practiced within the world of BDSM might find this short introduction on bound-together.net of interest. 

 

[5] The phenomenon of the death erection amongst executed prisoners is well-documented. Although usually associated with hanging, or other forms of swift, violent death, who knows what unintended side-effects crucifixion might produce. As the art historian and critic Leo Steinberg reminds us, a number of Renaissance artists depicted Jesus with a post-mortem hard-on. Perhaps not surprisingly, these works were suppressed by the Church for several centuries. 

      See: The Sexuality of Christ in Renaissance Art and in Modern Oblivion (University of Chicago Press, 1996).  

This post - a contribution to the new science which was born on 22 August, 1975, in a church in Berlin, and named colaphology by Michel Tournier - is dedicated to Catherine Brown. 

Lipstick Traces (with Reference to the Case of Cleopatra)

Zabrena: Historically Accurate: Ancient Egypt / Cleopatra Makeup Tutorial

YouTube (8 Oct 2014): click here. 

One of the questions I find endlessly fascinating is that of nature and artifice and the nature of artifice in relation to femininity.

It's a question that invariably takes us back to Baudelaire who suggests that without makeup Woman - as a figment of the pornographic imagination and not merely as a lump of flesh with distinct reproductive organs from the male - not only fails to excite or interest, but is less than human. It is only as a cultural-cosmetic effect that she elevates herself above her animal biology and captures the hearts and minds of men who would otherwise happily make do with other pleasures.      

For as Baudelaire admits, woman is not an animal whose component parts - even when pleasingly assembled and proportioned - provide a perfect example of harmony; "she is not even that type of pure beauty which the sculptor can mentally evoke in the course of his sternest meditations". In order to cast her complex spell of enchantment, she needs to adorn and thus enhance her physical attributes. 

Take the mouth, for example: who in their right mind would ever have dreamt of kissing the lips of a mucous-lined orifice with two rows of sharp teeth - and, indeed, exploring such with their own tongue or virile member - were those lips not first painted in an irresistible shade?

For whilst a smile, betraying as it does a certain vulnerability, may attract the attention of a man, I doubt that alone would be enough to persuade to perversion. And, let's be clear about this, oral sex - which includes French kissing - is an obvious abberation, involving as it does a form of what Freud terms anatomical transgression.

Cleopatra, Queen of the Nile, Isis Reborn, and a skilled fellatrix, knew exactly what she was doing when she applied crushed beetle juice in a beeswax base to her lips in order to stain them deep carmine red.

As Adam Ant once put it: She was a wide-mouthed girl ...    

See: 

Charles Baudelaire, 'The Painter of Modern Life' in The Painter of Modern Life and Other Essays, trans. and ed. by Jonathan Mayne, (Phaidon Press, 1995): click here to read online. 

Sigmund Freud, 'The Sexual Aberrations', in Three Contributions to the Sexual Theory, trans. A. A. Brill (NY, 1910): click here to read online.

Play:

Adam and the Ants, 'Cleopatra', Dirk Wears White Sox, (Do It Records, 1979): click here to listen on YouTube.

On Black Dandyism (With Reference to the Case of Jean-Michel Basquiat)

Jean-Michel Basquiat (1960 - 1988) 

The New York Times Magazine (10 Feb 1985)

"Being a black man", says Ekow Eshun, "means being subject to the white gaze". 

But if that means becoming an object of prejudice, suspicion and negative stereotype, so also does it mean becoming an object of fascination and, indeed, admiration. Certainly when it comes to the crucial question of style, it would simply be churlish to deny that many black men possess it to a high degree and fully understand its importance as a politics of resistance.

Indeed, without wishing to appear full of self-loathing or a sense of racial inferiority, I know exactly what Adam Ant means in Kings of the Wild Frontier when he says that for those of us with pale skin - even when we're healthy and our colour schemes delight - down below our dandy clothes we remain a shade too white.        

And so, whilst there are plenty of good-looking, very elegantly dressed white men in the world, the dandyism of the black man always seems to have something extra; to be that bit sexier and more provocative; to be invested with attitude (which is why the idea of a black actor playing James Bond isn't as outlandish as some suggest - it could only add a certain frisson to the character). 

This is exemplified in the above photo of Jean-Michel Basquiat on the cover of the New York Times Magazine in 1985; arguably the greatest artist of the late-twentieth century, he was certainly the most fashionable.

Pictured here in one of the Armani suits in which he loved to work, Basquiat knows that dandyism is, at its most interesting, not merely a method of flaunting one's individual beauty, but of flouting social conventions governing ideas of class, race, gender and sexuality; a means of saying fuck me and fuck you at one and the same time. 

To be clear: it's not what he's wearing, but how he's wearing it that matters; with barefoot insouciance, completely unconcerned about the fact that the expensive suit is paint-spattered (for he knows he still looks clean) and "confounding expectations about how black men should look or carry themselves in order to establish a place of personal freedom: a place beyond the white gaze, where the black body is a site of liberation rather than oppression" ...

In other words, black styles matter ...

See: Ekow Eshun, 'The subversive power of the black dandy', The Guardian, (04 July 2016): click here to read online. 

See also: Shantrelle P. Lewis, 'Black Dandyism is Back, and It's Both Oppositional Fashion and Therapy at Once', How We Get to Next (30 Sept 2016): click here. 

To read The New York Times Magazine feature on Basquiat, 'New Art, New Money', by Cathleen McGuigan, click here.  

Note: the first large-scale exhibition in the UK of the work of Jean-Michel Basquiat is currently showing at the Barbican (London) and runs until 28 Jan 2018: click here for details. 

Psychoceramics (Clinical Notes on Cranks and Crackpots)

We are the psycho-ceramics; 

the cracked pots of mankind.

A friend writes to complain about my use of the pejorative term crackpot:

"You use this tabloid-sounding term far too often as a lazy, rhetorical dismissal of people you don't sympathise with and whose views you frequently fail to understand. And, ultimately, isn't everyone's pot a bit damaged in some manner?"

To be fair, he might have a point; maybe I do use this term too often and maybe we do all have idiosyncrasies and mental health issues to deal with.

However, I borrowed the word crackpot from an Adam Ant song rather than the popular press, and I like to think it functions within my text as a specific critical and clinical term to refer to individuals who have an abnormal understanding of what constitutes factual evidence and thus enter into anomalous and sometimes sinister relationships with reality and what is generally accepted as the truth (e.g. the earth is a spherical object that orbits the sun).

Such individuals - often known as cranks as well as crackpots - are invariably people of faith; that is to say, they hold firm and fixed beliefs rather than ideas that are open to interrogation, thus rendering rational discourse impossible. Once they make their minds up on any given subject they cannot be persuaded otherwise. Thus the crazy often resemble broken records as well as cracked pots; endlessly repeating the same thing over and over, forever stuck in a groove.      

In 1992, American mathematical physicist John Baez came up with an amusing checklist, known as the Crackpot Index, that was designed to help identify cranky individuals and the way their minds (mal)function and I would encourage readers to check it out by clicking here.

Baez, like others who are interested in this condition, demonstrates that all crackpots share certain traits, characteristics, and obsessions. Perhaps the key feature is overestimating their own knowledge and ability, whilst underestimating (or dismissing entirely) that of leading experts.

Prone to paranoia as well as megalomania, crackpots also invariably subscribe to conspiracy theories and claim that their unorthodox views and revolutionary discoveries are being suppressed by mainstream science, big business, the government - or sometimes all three under the control of alien overlords. Or the Jews.  

And so, whilst I'm grateful to my friend for taking time to write, I think he should allow me my continued usage of the term crackpot and, further, I would suggest he investigates the work of Josiah S. Carberry, the leading authority in the field of psychoceramics.

For whilst I agree that it's pleasant and proper to be foolish once in a while, insanity marks a loss of conscious integrity and the point at which creativity terminates. And so, whilst a work of art or theory can reveal the presence of unreason, there are, technically, no mad scientists or mad poets.  


Note: the image above is of Jack Nicholson as Randle Patrick McMurphy in One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (dir. Miloš Forman, 1975); a film based on a novel of the same title by Ken Kesey (1962). The paraphrased line is from Pt. III, Ch. 2.  

Queens of the Wild Frontier

Lady Gaga             Princess Julia             Countess Alex Zapak

Female devotees of art-pop seem to have a fascination with aristocratic society and often assign themselves titles, constituting a false order of privilege, or what Adam Ant memorably described as a new royal family / a wild nobility.

But it might be asked if this ironic act of self-entitlement doesn't also betray a certain contempt for class.

For what we observe here is not simply nostalgia or a reactionary desire to return to a world in which everyone had a place and was expected to know their place, but an anarchic attempt to subvert all systems of hierarchy and caste; to construct a utopia in which breeding counts for nothing, miscegenation is celebrated, and everyone - whatever their origin - is allowed to sprinkle stardust in their hair.

     

Too Old to Live, Too Slow to Die

Adam Ant has a new album out. It's his first in a very long time and it has a very long title. I wish him all the best with it, as I retain a lot of fraternal affection for Adam.

However, he's being slightly disingenuous when he pretends that rock 'n' roll is all about sex, style, and subversion, with a dash of humour for good measure. Because it is also about youth, speed, and untimely death. 

I'm not saying that's a good thing. But that's what rock 'n' roll is: a romantic and rebellious suicide cult in which spectacular failure is valued above benign success and dangerous excess is the rule, rather than a code of health and safety. An aged rock star - to paraphrase Nick Land writing about philosophers - is either a monster of stamina, or a charlatan.  

As it's you Adam, in all your punk-pirate splendour and your madness, I'm prepared to give you the benefit of the doubt ... You don't embarrass yourself and those who loved you in the manner that Rotten does.