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British Rock , 1967-1977

The Story of Hall in Rock

Barry J. Faulk

An Ashgate Book British Rock Modernism, 1967-1977 This page has been left blank intentionally British Rock Modernism, 1967-1977 The Story of Music Hall in Rock

Barry J. Faulk Florida State University, USA First published 2010 by Ashgate Publishing

Published 2016 by Routledge 2 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon OX14 4RN 711 Third Avenue, New York, NY 10017, USA

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Copyright © 2010 Barry J. Faulk

Barry J. Faulk has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.

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British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data Faulk, Barry J. British rock modernism, 1967-1977 : the story of music hall in rock. – (Ashgate popular and series) 1. – Great Britain – 1961-1970 – History and criticism. 2. Rock music – Great Britain – 1971-1980 – History and criticism. 3. Music-halls (Variety-theatres, , etc.) – Great Britain. I. Title II. Series 781.6’6’0941’09046–dc22

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Faulk, Barry J. British rock modernism, 1967-1977 : the story of music hall in rock / Barry J. Faulk. p. cm. — (Ashgate popular and folk music series) Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 978-1-4094-1190-1 (hardcover : alk. paper) 1. Rock music—Great Britain—1961-1970—History and criticism. 2. Rock music—Great Britain—1971-1980--History and criticism. 3. Music-halls (Variety-theaters, cabarets, etc.) —Great Britain. I. Title.

ML3534.6.G7F38 2011 781.660941’09046—dc22 2010024211

ISBN 9781409411901 (hbk) ISBN 9781315570273 (ebk) Contents

General Editor’s Preface vii Acknowledgments ix

Introduction 1

1 British Pop Women Singers of the 1960s and the Struggle for Modern Identity 21

2 Modernist Rock Constructs the Folk: 47

3 new Left in Victorian Drag: Circus 77

4 Are the Village Green Preservation Society and the Making of Auteur 105

5 Modernist Nostalgia: The ’ Music-Hall Revival 129

Conclusion 155

Bibliography 165 Index 173 This page has been left blank intentionally General Editor’s Preface

The upheaval that occurred in during the last two decades of the twentieth century has created a new urgency for the study of alongside the development of new critical and theoretical models. A relativistic outlook has replaced the universal perspective of modernism (the international ambitions of the 12-note style); the grand narrative of the evolution and dissolution of tonality has been challenged, and emphasis has shifted to cultural context, reception and subject position. Together, these have conspired to eat away at the status of canonical and categories of high and low in music. A need has arisen, also, to recognize and address the emergence of crossovers, mixed and new , to engage in debates concerning the vexed problem of what constitutes authenticity in music and to offer a critique of musical practice as the product of free, individual expression. Popular musicology is now a vital and exciting area of scholarship, and the Ashgate Popular and Folk Music Series presents some of the best research in the field. Authors are concerned with locating musical practices, values and meanings in cultural context, and draw upon methodologies and theories developed in cultural studies, semiotics, poststructuralism, psychology and sociology. The series focuses on popular of the twentieth and twenty-first centuries. It is designed to embrace the world’s popular musics from Acid to , whether high tech or low tech, commercial or non-commercial, contemporary or traditional.

Professor Derek B. Scott Professor of Critical Musicology University of Leeds This page has been left blank intentionally Acknowledgments

Rock music in the 60s and 70s still represented the sound of a —or so it seemed to me, growing up. And even though I thought rock music uncompromisingly, aggressively, modern, there also seemed to be something older than rock itself about the British groups that mattered to me. Whatever this ancient element was, it seemed deeply exotic, and vibrantly other, to a teenager living in the American South. My interest became an obsession; this book is the result. I am fortunate enough to work in an academic environment—the English Department at Florida State University—that has been both nurturing and inspiring. I couldn’t have written this book, or any book, without the support of supremely generous colleagues like Mark Cooper, Robin Truth Goodman, Helen Burke, Ned Stuckey-French and Jim O’Rourke, to name just a few. Ralph Berry, Timothy Parrish, Lauren Onkey, and Neil Nehring provided intellectual guidance when I most needed it. I am forever grateful to some brilliant former students who tireless and unswerving in their enthusiasm for the project; my debt to Jackie Bitsis, Cameron Stuart, and Hala Herbly is enormous. I was also fortunate in having a superb editor, Heidi Bishop, and a sympathetic reader, Derek Scott, who believed in what the book could be. It has been a pleasure throughout working with the amazingly professional staff at Ashgate Publishing. My heartfelt gratitude to Moscovia as well: another untiring listener, and the world’s most reluctant rock fan. The mistakes, of course, are uniquely my own. This page has been left blank intentionally Introduction

British Rock Modernism, 1967-1977 explains how the definitive British rock performers of this epoch aimed, not at the youthful rebellion for which they are legendary, but at a highly self-conscious project of commenting on and thereby intervening in the commercial art enterprise in which they engaged. They did so by ironically appropriating the traditional forms of Victorian music hall. I focus on the moment in the mid to late 1960s, when British rock bands who had already achieved commercial success began to aspire to aesthetic distinction. To grasp the significance of the moment, we must look beyond rock music itself to the tradition of British music-hall . The book discusses recordings (the Beatles’ Magical Mystery Tour record, the Kinks’ The Village Green Preservation Society, the Sex Pistols’ Never Mind the Bollocks, Here’s the Sex Pistols), and television films (the Beatles’ Magical Mystery Tour, the Rolling Stones’ Rock and Roll Circus) that defined rock’s early high art moment. I argue that these texts disclose the primary strategies by which British rock groups, mostly composed of young working and lower middle-class men, made their bid for aesthetic merit by sampling music-hall sounds. The result was a symbolically charged form whose main purpose was to unsettle the hierarchy that set traditional above the new medium. Rock groups engaged the music of the past in order both to demonstrate the vitality of the new form and signify rock’s new art status, compared to earlier British . Rock groups like the Beatles, the Rolling Stones, and the Kinks began to reference the 19th-century musical that preceded British rock, the music hall, as rock music’s Other; it was made to represent everything that rock was supposedly not. The music hall past was engaged in two ways that substantially altered the evolution of : first, 60’s bands invoked music hall largely in order to hijack its authority for the new music; later, bands like the Sex Pistols, conscious of the association that developed in the rock era between music hall entertainment and a fully outmoded Englishness, revived the older form in defiance of the consumerist ethos of 70’s British pop, but also to subvert the authority of the previous generation of British rock bands. My project situates British rock in the 1960s and 70s within a broader social history, but does not reduce music merely to its context. Focusing on the evolution of aesthetic projects from within British rock in the late 1960s and 70s provides a way of addressing rock as a music with its own rules distinct from other cultural spheres. The link I posit between aesthetic value and classic British rock may still be provocative to some, even in a world of Rock museums and “Halls of Fame.” Yet British rock bands at this time entertained artistic ambitions, sometimes explicitly modeling themselves on earlier generations of modernist artists,  british rock modernism, 1967-1977 often by rediscovering the objectives of modernist artists, concerned with achieving greater control over the means of artistic production, for themselves. My focus on rock music in its art-phase rather than pre- is for greater descriptive purchase, not a prescriptive purpose. The point is not to reinforce a binary between rock as and rock as music, but to clarify the specific role played by “classic” rock in various discourses of class and nation specific to the British 1960s and 70s. Any one who cares about the music of the era can think of artists and bands missing from this story of rock’s evolution; it is even difficult to treat every British rock group that made music with a nod to music hall. The project of recapturing childhood experience, begun ’ Sgt. Pepper’s record and a touchstone of British , often resulted in music built on the formulas of music hall song. The ’ Ogden’s Nut Gone Flake (1968) is exemplary British in this regard, a record where the music’s experimental ambitions co-exist with antique Englishness. “Rene” is a rock song that incorporates music hall sing-a-long, and tells a not-uncommon story about East life: a woman of extraordinary vitality at the center of a large, multi-racial family, fathered by sailors temporarily docked in the East End and looking for company (which dates both Rene and Marriot/Lane, hearkening back to an older time when the East End docks were a major shipping center rather than the low traffic zone it was by the 1960s). The intrusive neighbors we hear complaining about the singer in Marriot/ Lane’s “Lazy Sunday” on the same have signature, and caricature, East London voices. However, the Small Faces evoke the recent past without the larger aesthetic ambitions of contemporaneous records by the Beatles and the Kinks, and for this reason falls outside the parameters of this study. In defense of this and other exclusions, I can only reiterate my primary aim of focusing on bands that invoke the music hall in a manner to authorize British rock as a modernist art project. One of the book’s sub-arguments is that it is a mistake to claim that 60’s rock music is somehow intrinsically radical on account of the link between the rock music of this era and a generation of politically radicalized . It is true that rock music played a major role in fostering generational solidarity during this era, especially among the politicized university students across the globe. In Britain, rock pushed out jazz music to become the primary soundtrack of the British underground, and fostered a generational divide that separated a British Left which had come of age before the 60s from younger radicals. The link between British rock and the 60’s is so strong that rock, at least in its subcultural forms of heavy metal or “hardcore,” still retains the reputation of being underground music. As Robert Colls observes, British university students of the 1960s sought authenticity in a large class of goods, among them various media forms: in and folk, the free jazz movement, realist cinema, modernist or “” fashions, and later, in and ethnic clothing (366). Rock was valued at the time, along with other cultural goods and practices, as a mode of authentic expression. I argue that contemporaneous claims for rock’s greater authenticity introduction  were exaggerated, and that the radical aspect of British rock in the 1960s and 70s resides instead in its aesthetic form. Not that the new audience binding features that distinguished the rock audience weren’t radical: only that such arguments tend to overlook the revolutionary character of music at its most “arty” (e.g. the Beatles’ “I Am the Walrus”). In retrospect, it seems most of the rock audience—or at least the rock critic or journalist—associated the music with a vision of classlessness that had more in common with the free market ideologies that came to dominate the neo-conservative than with rock’s aesthetic development. At any rate, the primary focus of the book is not on the efforts which British rock made to align themselves with the activist politics of the age, although my chapter on the Rolling Stones’ Rock and Roll Circus interprets the program as a self-conscious attempt by Jagger and the to harness their anti-establishment reputation in the service of New Left activism. My primary focus instead is on how key British rock groups addressed the specific medium of studio-based recording. It is important not to lose rock’s text in its many contexts of production and reception; that said, understanding the role music hall played in rock offers considerable insight into issues of class construction and the British national imaginary in the post-WWII years under review. As the book makes clear, residual ideas of an empire and working class associated with Victorian/Edwardian retain their potency in the adolescence of post-WWII musicians. This persistent Englishness had a lot to do with WWII itself and the struggle of an island people to resist invasion, as well as the uncertain position of England in the decolonizing world of the Cold War. For this generation, music hall condensed the old Victorian era, and the survival of older notions of class and community in modern times. Although music hall later became a way of preserving unfashionable values, it initially had transformed British culture. As the first British mass entertainment, music-hall fare reached cross-class audiences; its popularity, often based on communal conceptions of working-class London, also upheld stereotyped images of working-class character. At the same time, music hall song and comedy tended to subsume class differences to a broader discourse of national identity. For these

 in “Eight Arms to Hold You,” Hanif Kureishi emphasizes the symbolic importance of the Beatles as northern outsiders who rise to the top in a rigid, caste-ridden country: which seems an all-too familiar gesture of the 60’s generation, where counterculture freedom becomes indistinguishable from the “freedom” to consume. In other words, Kureishi claims the Beatles as avatars of the exceptional individuals who flout conventions of caste and class in Kureishi’s own novels.  in this regard, the British at the at the end of the 1960s demonstrates the inherent gap between left politics and rock musicians as a social group. A politicized segment of the audience demanded free entry into the festival, not only to the horror of Murray Lerner, the festival and organizer, but to the general indifference or active resistance to the free idea expressed by the artists themselves. interrupts her own performance, pleading for a restless audience to recognize the labor involved in performing, and songwriting as hard work; see .  british rock modernism, 1967-1977 reasons, a history of British rock and its music-hall past tells us much about class, nation, and that reordering of global mass culture that was the . To understand why and how British rock took a modernist path, we must first briefly consider how music hall came to represent the past of the British nation. By the 1880s, British music hall had evolved from its mid-Victorian origins in comic song and sing-a-longs in pubs and penny gaff stages in seedy neighborhoods into a fully capitalized enterprise (Fountain 32). Victorian folklore scholar A.L. Lloyd condemned the music hall as a commercial enterprise that replaced the folk song believed to offer a direct means of communication in the working-class community; yet most middle-class intellectuals, from Arthur Symons and Max Beerbohm in the Victorian era to T.S. Eliot and George Orwell in the 20th century, celebrated the music hall, even in its upscale form as syndicate owned “variety theater,” as quintessentially English pastime. In 1903, American theater critic Horace Barnes claimed with confidence that London music hall, unlike New York vaudeville or Parisian , had attained “the dignity of [an] institution,” and a general knowledge of the stars and was common to all classes of English people. The commercial music hall had gained the unique power to insinuate itself into all corners of everyday life. “From the lout to the lord,” Barnes declares, “there isn’t a Londoner who doesn’t look on the halls as his own…Each hall has its specific audience, its quota of regulars, its own peculiar feeling and atmosphere in keeping with its environment” (www.arthurlloyd.com/). The most successful music-hall performers, he suggests, were those who reflected the aspirations of the entertainment’s mass audience. When one of the most celebrated music-hall singers of the day, Marie Lloyd, performed at several halls in London each night, Barnes insists that every show effortlessly creates a community in each new space: “if you followed her you will find that in each instance, strong as is her personality, it has been merged, chameleon-like, into the omnipresent personality of the hall.” Late-Victorian and Edwardian music hall was both a pop culture form and a nascent culture industry. Popular culture is a contradictory phenomenon, containing the voices and values of different social classes. As Stuart Hall observes, pop culture, including popular music in industrial capitalist societies, is neither the unfiltered voice of the people nor a confidence scheme, but a site of conflict between social and cultural elites and non-elites. As recent studies of the 19th-century music hall have shown, even the more commodified entertainment of the variety theaters built for middle-class patrons still posed problems for late- Victorian cultural elites because of its continuing popularity among the British working class.

 t.S. Eliot also praises the ability of famous music hall performers like Little Tich and Marie Lloyd to take on the character of their audience in “The Romantic Englishman, The Comic Spirit, and the Function of Criticism.” Eliot goes even further than Barnes in suggesting that the persona of music hall performers convey timeless national archetypes.  see Hall. introduction 

The music hall was perhaps exceptional in the late 19th century on account of its enthusiastic supporters among the artistic elite. Once music-hall entertainment had become a commodity form, it gained defenders among the cultured class; in their many partisan accounts of music hall comedy and song, they inevitably identified the halls with “folk” entertainment, and authentic Britishness. In particular, middle-class observers characterized the apparently intimate relationship the halls fostered between performers and their popular audiences as thoroughly “English.” T.S. Eliot’s famous appreciation of Marie Lloyd is exemplary in this respect; he insists that Lloyd’s popular success has a deeper meaning. “Popularity in her case was not merely evidence of her accomplishment,” he writes, but “evidence of the extent to which she represented and expressed that part of the English nation which has perhaps the greatest vitality and interest” (172). Even in the music-hall’s decline, and with the passing of its most successful entertainers, Eliot saw the art form as an authentic cultural expression of the popular classes, with the special function of reinforcing British unity. The praise of Arthur Symons in the 1890s and of later intellectuals like Eliot and Orwell for music hall also attested to the special capacity of the modern bourgeois to properly appreciate working-class culture; this discourse also helped popularize a specific image of the redeeming social function of British music hall. Music hall began as popular entertainment on the margins of London, but soon became a commercial force that marketed its own popular appeal, expanding the reach of consumer culture. Many music halls were replaced by movie theaters in the 1930s, but the form persisted long enough to remain a powerful image of class solidarity for a generation of British youth born after WWII. For that generation, growing up in households without a television and only three radio stations, music remained a mostly amateur affair, a craft learned in the family, and mostly performed for neighborhood audiences. For them, the writing, music, and comedy of the British music hall constituted their first experience of popular culture. Music hall carried over an image of working-class community, even as American-style was beginning to impact British society. Music- hall conventions had a second life in film and television comedy, with music- hall singer Gracie Fields making the transition to British cinema, and comics like Max Wall and Arthur Askey becoming a staple of BBC radio and television fare. The entertainment may have been moribund by the late fifties, but Steele and , the first generation of British rock and roll singers, still came up through the old music-hall circuit and shared the bill with its comedians. ’s first performances were at the Metropolitan music hall on Edgware Road in 1957; Billy Fury shared the bill with comedian Frankie Howerd (Double 37).

 i argue that one of the distinctive features of the late-Victorian bourgeois is the development of a “taste” for working-class ; see Faulk.  For a comprehensive history of consumerism as ideology and social organization in 20th-century Britain, see Hilton; Chapter 8 focuses on consumerism and the individual in the 1960s.  british rock modernism, 1967-1977

Such odd pairings would persist into the 1960s, and in fact, reach absurd heights with ’s first tour of the UK paired with middle of the road pop singer Engelbert Humperdinck. Such concert bills suggest the typical way that rock music, whether Fury or Hendrix, fit into distinctly British institutions. The week the Beatles’ Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band record was released in June 1967, “The Black and White Minstrel Show,” a BBC One program that recreated the “Blackface” entertainment that was standard late-Victorian and Edwardian music hall fare, was among the top rated television programs in Britain. The ITV television program Sunday Night at the London Palladium, which lasted well into the rock era, was the British equivalent to the equally long running Ed Sullivan Show in America. Both programs presented variety entertainment in a format which derived from music hall and its American equivalent, vaudeville, and helped define the cultural . The young working-class and lower middle-class musicians who formed rock bands in the 1960s would find it difficult to exorcize the powerful associational link between the halls and working-class Englishness that they had learned in their youth. The main experience of the post WWII generation of British rock musicians with music hall was in the more sensory, existentially immediate context of the Blitz and decolonization, of growing up with scarcity and state-imposed rationing, without a recognizable mass media, in an era that revived the austere Victorian values of self-denial, discipline, and sexual prudery. These musicians learned to associate the music hall with older visions of Britishness, and the kind of Victorian morality that seemed newly relevant as necessary equipment for surviving the dangers of life during wartime. Music-hall’s glory days coincided with the height of empire, with many of its posh theaters dubbed little “empires” and flaunting exotic names like the “Alhambra.” The career of the young Julie Andrews provides an exemplary case. Andrews was already a national icon before her stage career, the youngest performer ever to give a command performance at the London Palladium (in 1948, at the age of 13). The stories of how she entertained the troops with her music-hall parents and sang music-hall songs in the bomb shelters during the Blitz became common knowledge—a small child in that little corner of the world that even under siege and fire, will be forever England. Although I know of no concrete evidence

 not surprisingly, the generation of 60’s rock bands had ambivalent regard for music hall, especially televised programs that recreated the older entertainment form. The music of the Small Faces frequently uses music hall forms, ironically (“All Our Yesterdays”) and not (“Itchycoo Park”), but in a 1969 interview, expresses both his admiration and his distaste for music hall comedy. Asked by Keith Altham about “how much brain damage” you get from TV, he replies, “Quite a lot from things like the Ken Dodd show and those Palladium-type shows. They are all so Workers Playtime mentality. I don’t believe it” (23). Yet when asked what makes him laugh, he rattles off a list of comedians in the classic music hall mode: Frankie Howard, Tommy Cooper, and Marty Feldman.  see Julie Andrews, 29. introduction  that a young John or Paul McCartney listened to Julie Andrews, just five years or so their senior, on the BBC, it is almost impossible to imagine that they would not have, and thus be reminded of the continuing presence of music-hall Englishness into . The image of the northern woman as popularized in music hall by Marie Lloyd and Gracie Fields (the latter would take the persona into a popular film career) also passed into the rock era with minimal changes. In Mark Simpson’s account, the northern woman persona mixed emotional intensity, directness, good cheer, and the stoic strength of the lone survivor (48). She lives large in a world she didn’t create and appears powerless to change; the contradictory aspects of the stereotype suggest that we are in the presence of ideology. Simpson also notes that “Northerness in British culture has faint echoes of blackness in American culture,” suggesting the extent to which feminine identity acquires a quasi-biological aspect here (50). The ideology of the suffering northern woman helped construct a complete identification of the singer with the song. Pop singer began as a child singer in the music halls; a decade later she began her pop career with hits like “I Know a Place,” a song about the Cavern, the club where the Beatles had their residency, and which helped establish Clark as a rock fellow traveler. But all of Clark’s hit records, especially her biggest chart record, “Downtown,” suggest the strength of her ties to music hall, as well as the logic linking the music-hall stage and the pop world in the rock era. Clark celebrates individual agency, but within the frame of a consumer ethos that was implicit from the beginning in music-hall song. Fame for women singers largely meant complying with an industry structure that severely limited the autonomy of the individual performer. Singers who accepted the terms of stardom set in the had to assume a subordinate role to their management; in the studio, they had to take orders from the company producers brought in by their managers for the purpose of making studio records. As a consequence, 60’s women pop singers were from the start almost totally incorporated within an industry scheme. Whereas the image of the music hall preserved connotations of working-class community as authentically British in a post-War era, or its derivations preserved older notions of class, the young men who formed rock bands in the 60s themselves experienced the alienation and identity crises endemic to young celebrities. Bluntly, the Beatles and the Stones made a pile of money in their early twenties, enough money to convince anyone that they were déclassé. This unprecedented celebrity was accompanied by a particularly acute identity crisis. Was the rock star a bohemian, alienated from the middle-class; part of the new social elite; or a glorified contract laborer, exploited by record company owners? If class barriers

 see Wilson for more on music hall song’s presentation of the urban consumer. Even as Dusty Springfield attempted to make the transition from cabaret pop to grittier song in 1968, the British media still represented women performers as privileged consumers rather than auteurs; see Hagan for a blatant example of this.  british rock modernism, 1967-1977 seem to be eroding a bit as the British empire was in its death throes and you are fortunate enough to be making piles of money in your early twenties, then it makes sense to write deeply ambivalent songs about a pastoral, English past that was perhaps never your past, but rather that of your parents and grandparents. Here too, youth identity crisis overlaps with a broader authority crisis: had a younger generation earned the right to draw on the legacy of Britishness? As stated, the narrative of my book does not begin with the commercial success of British rock but with what a few select groups did after they attained popular recognition. Soon after the beginning of the British Invasion, pop musicians quickly adopted the modernist persona of as artist and savant.10 The ideology of rock as a modern art form is vividly displayed in the otherwise dispiriting documentary film of the Beatles’ sessions for what would be their last record release, (1970). By this time the consensus that rock musicians were artists and not mere entertainers had settled to the extent that could shut down a conversation with his fellow Beatles about touring by reminding his band mates that they had no obligation to their audience, or to anything else, aside from their art—the sort of sentiment that any self-respecting modernist since Stravinsky would have immediately understood (Christgau 145). For Harrison, the Beatles’ sole responsibility is personal: to the pursuit of the artistic vocation for its own sake, rather than to a popular audience. The Beatles, the Kinks, and the Rolling Stones consciously cultivated artistic ambitions that potentially set their status as a franchise at risk. Unlike an earlier generation of music hall artists, these bands did not seek a more intimate, organic relation to its popular audience; instead, they aspired to exert control over every facet of the music-making process by performing their own material and making the key decisions in arranging songs and in the recording process. like Lennon/McCartney and resembled an earlier generation of modernist writers in their aspirations to autonomy more clearly than they did music-hall singers like Alma Cogan and Gracie Fields.11 The ideological struggle between rock as modern art and music hall as traditional Englishness determines the form that the new, most ambitious British rock music would take. Bands evoked the sound of earlier British music primarily to show off the dense musical textures of the new genre. The first casualty in this clash of musical styles was the notion of musical authenticity which had been the source of the music-hall’s special charisma. In contrast, British rock would champion instead the values of artifice, technical expertise, and musical eclecticism: all values that fostered an ironic, self-aware perspective of Britain’s past. The contradiction between the of British rock and the core values of the

10 see Richard Williams on 1965 as both the emergence and artistic zenith of British rock, 78-91. 11 of course, not all British rock bands had songwriters with auteur ambitions, and even those bands that did inevitably began their recording careers with of American music. introduction  youth audience for rock music are often overlooked. As Robert Colls observes, the university student community of the 1960s craved clothes and art that they regarded to be anti-Establishment and thus more authentic (183). As British rock musicians followed their ambitions to produce music based on artifice, lacking a clear organic relation to earlier British music, these musicians potentially set themselves at odds with their youth audience. In spite of the demands of the core audience that constituted rock’s primary consumer base, you can hear the new, potentially unpopular agenda of British rock in songs like the Beatles’ “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band,” the Rolling Stones’ “Something Happened to Me Yesterday,” or the Kinks’ “Picture Book.” Such songs compound two musical styles: voices of regional Englishness, singing to rock rhythms, the jazz horns of the “trad” band interrupted by the prominent sound of the ‘heavy’ rock combo. These songs show their seams, so to speak, by sonic means; they mix hybrid parts that never add up to an organic whole. The result is music that wryly acknowledges its composite character, reminding listeners of the distance separating the singer either from the song’s lyrical content, or between the sound of English music and Black Atlantic rhythms. Songs like these underscore the fundamental artifice at the core of the enterprise of British rock. A statement by succinctly captures the perception that British rock was “inauthentic,” compared to its American counterparts: “For the English, rock and roll has never involved doing what comes naturally. No matter how well off the prospective musician, it seems he is closer to down-home than his often working class English counterpart” (243). Critical and audience discourse on British rock often recapitulates Beat ideology from the late 50s and continues the white middle-class romance of the hipster; but it is also true that British bands often signify their essential distance from Blackness and highlight the artifice at the core of their brand of American music. Strictly speaking, British rock was “art rock” from its conception: that is, music based on a conceptual, intellectual relation to its sources. For the Beatles and Stones, it was a given that “their distance from the Afro-American source would be a necessary and authentic part of whatever they did with it” (Christgau 245). The modernist moment in rock emerged with the awareness that no amount of love or reverence for the sources of British rock could breach the distance between England and America.12 The constructed character of British rock is precisely what made it possible for rock musicians to establish new work rules for rock music settled on by the managers, as it were, and differentiating their work from amateur practice. Recognizing the link between British rock and artifice is not the same as saying that the taste of a post-WWII generation for American blues and R&B was a mere pose; no one takes up a pose knowing that it will remain so. For that matter, calling

12 similarly, Devin McKinney suggests that the Beatles’ music was shaped by the fact that “they simply had to work harder”: “Foreigners playing a foreign music, they couldn’t assume it as a national birthright, or absorb it in all its Afro-centric detail; and so, driven to somehow own it, they were forced to absorb it as pure feeling” (38). 10 british rock modernism, 1967-1977 the British taste for blues unnatural simply begs the question of why so many musicians of this era were drawn to making “foreign” sounds. The answer lies in the specific historical conjuncture, in part from the experience of being gendered male and coming up through the British education system in these years. Rock was the last in a succession of partisan tastes for American music centered in British suburbia; throughout the 20th century, students encountered jazz and blues outside the curriculum of secondary school. Some believed that they were forever changed by the experience. The taste for jazz and blues cemented of young men that they were alienated, set apart from the “Englishness” that once was their birthright. As Richard Williams put it, the “children of the English middle-class, in their blazers and house ties,” discovered that Duke Ellington 78s or records “meant more to them than ‘Adieu Sweet Amaryllis’ or ‘Belshazzar’s Feast.’”(4). Regardless of whether these children were Philip Larkin or , J.B. Priestley or , lives altered as a result of contact with another world through sound recordings. British youth first heard American music as a way to break with the traditions of culture they learned in formal schooling. You couldn’t just find this music; you had to search it out. Tracking down African American sounds forced British listeners off the beaten path: to make contact with American soldiers with solid record collections, or to anxiously try to tune in radio stations other than the BBC, European stations with jazz and R&B programs, like Radio Luxembourg. When ordinary kids, enthused by the advent of and rock’n’roll, went to art school, they often used the extra time at school to learn more about the unofficial music they discovered during their early adolescence. Despite the essentialist notions of race which often underlie these practices, these activities still offered an alternative to cultural nationalism. Dancing to Charlie Parker and listening to Mingus; taking pills; following French fashion, tracking down music that you would never hear broadcast by the BBC: these acts became ritual practices for many young Britons. The exposure to African American music and culture cemented the link between style and social discontent, between R&B, American rock, and bad behavior, as suggested in the recollection of Sex Pistols’ manager Malcolm McLaren: “The first time I saw a , it provoked in me sheer menace…and helped me understand you could look bad—not just be bad” (1076). Aspiring rebels like McLaren learned a special vocabulary in art school that allowed them to articulate their musical taste as an anti-establishment practice; as Ian Macdonald notes, the art school backgrounds of 60’s rock groups “allowed them to introduce the concept of ‘concept’ into pop, along with other postmodern motifs like eclecticism, self-referentiality, parody, and pastiche” (). Art school graduates like McLaren went on to propagate a by-now familiar story about rock and roll’s subversive, anti-capitalist force: why R&B-inflected rock seemed more appropriate to modern sensibilities than other introduction 11 music, and more art than commerce, at the same time that the practice of making rock music began to seem a lucrative career move for musicians.13 Like the absurdist humor of the Goon Show radio program in the 1950s (starring Peter Sellers and Spike Milligan), which was often aimed at the colonial officer, an authority figure born in the Victorian era, British rock musicians engaged and challenged long standing assumptions about Anglo-Saxon superiority. George Melly characterized the Goons as “the agents of a profound subversion,” who aided in modernizing Britons who “were still thinking of [themselves] as a nineteenth-century power” (176). British rock modernism is also part of this history of the internal de-colonization of Britain, though rock’s role in this process is perhaps more ambivalent than the one Melly ascribes to the Goons. Sourcing the music-hall legacy allowed rock bands a way to engage their past at a historic period of transition. It represented a break with the past and previous modes of Englishness while at the same time reviving older notions of the unique, exceptional character of British culture. British rock in its modernist moment was built on the knowledge of Britain’s new, diminished role as a global power in the post-WWII world, on the growing sense that England now constituted a “shrinking island,” as Jed Esty puts it. However, the sheer ambition of British rock modernism, the scale of its efforts to re-imagine the nation’s musical past, seems of a piece with imperial hubris: as if some British rock groups responded to Britain’s imperial contraction by endeavoring to symbolically re-conquer the globe. My study begins with the premise that the evolution of British rock into art represents a semi-autonomous development, something that cannot fully be explained by recourse to historical context. Nonetheless, we can enumerate the social and historical factors that help explain when and how the British rock aesthetic developed as it did, and which set the direction this evolution followed. In large part, British rock music is the legacy of the policies of the post-WWII welfare state and its programs for mass education, which as Jim Melly notes, both gave “young people an education,” including its working class young, as well as “time to develop their art” (62). As Simon Frith and Herbert Horne detail in Art into Pop, and Michael Bracewell’s exhaustive research on the educational background of seminal glitter rock group corroborates, British rock is the result of working-class empowerment schemes, smart kids taking up the ideas they learned

13 considering the extent to which the scene was commercially eclipsed by British rock, it is interesting to note that for example, Ray Davies recalls how as an art student he considered both American jazz and rock as similar examples of high energy dance music, associating Charles Mingus’ big band jazz with American rock (“Davies”) Peter Townshend also credits Charlie Parker’s sax as the inspiration for the guitar feedback solo on ’s 1965 single “Anyhow Anyway Anywhere,” also suggesting that rock and jazz were more or less interchangeable on account of their American origins, since most British art school students first experienced both jazz and rock while at university. 12 british rock modernism, 1967-1977 in art school.14 Barry Miles attributes the growing art associations of British 60’s rock to the emergence of a student counterculture, where young people had enough leisure time and spending money to combine the leisure activities of drug taking and concert going.15 The invention of the rock festival in San Francisco in 1966 with the “Human Be-In” crossed the Atlantic to the UK, where it became the marathon rock happening of the Technicolor Dream Show at the Alexandra Palace in 1967. In these events, rock music and hallucinogens, especially acid, became fatefully linked. The reorganization and transformation of the small concert bill and the concert-going experience created a link between British rock and grander art projects, and proclaimed higher aspirations than commerce and career making. Working or lower-middle-class Londoners often lived and worked in the same neighborhood where they were born, but to wealthy musicians migrating from the north, London offered itself up as a global city. Metropolitan, post-imperial London still played the same role for rock musicians that it had played for artistic and cultural elites in the late 19th century, offering a means to escape the provincial expectations for an orderly life, situating artists amid a linguistic and cultural diversity, and encouraging aspiring performers to seek the respect of their peers in the profession above all else. Rock bands were not masters and apprentices who crafted an indigenous music out of civic pride, but working or lower middle-class musicians who had left East End neighborhoods or the industrial north, looking for liberation from the responsibilities of work and family. Raymond Williams writes about the importance of London as a space to the development of late- 19th-century modernity, noting that the Victorian metropolis became a space where artistic elites became more self-conscious of their medium as their subject matter.16 In a celebrated interview after leaving the Beatles,

14 Frith and Horne detail the influence of art school ideology on rock bands from the 60s through the 1980s. Michael Bracewell inventories the influence of art school concepts of performative identity, happenings, gay liberation, and the collapse of /low art divide on Roxy Music (Brian Ferry and went to school at Newcastle Polytechnic). In one respect, they belong to the rock modernist experiment; but I have restricted myself to a discussion of those modernists who explicitly engage the history of in order to assert rock’s own claims to artistic status. Self-conscious futurists, both Roxy Music (and ) mostly treat the past through the filter of camp or kitsch, and thus keep the past at bay. Bryan Ferry’s first two solo blend song with , but with the apparent aim of suggesting that the whole enterprise of the pop song is always-already kitsch. Both Bowie and Roxy Music are more interested in blasting through to a space-age future than with engaging the present. 15 see “White Light, White Heat.” Drug use and artistic experimentation have been linked since , and remained standard practice for most subsequent artistic avant-gardes; see Boon. 16 see Raymond Williams; Esty’s gloss on “metropolitan perception” links it to modes of imperial capitalist appropriation: “Metropolitan perception names a distinctive feature of modernist art in the urban centers where European artists had free access to each other’s work and to cultural materials from all over the world” (30). introduction 13

John Lennon suggests a continuity of experience between metropolitan London of the 1890s and “Swinging” London of the 60s. He explicitly links his growing artistic self-confidence to the experience of meeting and exchanging ideas with his musical peers:

… it’s like while Shaw was in England and they all went to Paris, and there’s all that, and New York, San Francisco, and London. Even London we created something there, with Mick and us and all of them. We didn’t know what we were doing, but we were all talking and blabbing over coffee like they must have done in Paris talking about painting. We—(Eric) Burdon and would be up night and day talking about music and playing records and blabbing and arguing and getting drunk. It’s beautiful history. It happened in all these different places. (Wenner 147)

Lennon regards fellow members of the London rock elite not simply as working- class kids made good, but as constituting an artistic society sharing similar aims, working to make music that pleases themselves and their peers, rather than chase popular acclaim. British Rock Modernism is organized around the analysis of selected recordings and television programs made by 60’s and 70’s British rock bands. My choices are mostly conventional, intentionally so. My aim is not to expand the rock or pop canon, but to focus on aspects of familiar music that remain largely ignored. The key records and movies I discuss represent the high point of what I designate as the era of British rock modernism: a time when British rock bands made a conscious bid to challenge the authority of the past in order to further their own artistic agendas and establish rock music’s aesthetic status. A sub-genre of British rock emerged that sampled the music of the past in order to control it, appropriating it to new ends.17 Sometimes the results were music that did quite well commercially; sometimes, as was the case with the Kinks, the venture into art territory marked the beginning of ’s cult status. In all these instances though, British rock modernism aimed to challenge the symbolic authority of conventional British pop song represented by music entertainment and its folk ethos, while at the same time challenging the assumption that rock, as a popular, youth-oriented form, lacked intellectual seriousness, and a sense of history. Frequently the records or television programs I discuss assume the form of ordeals where the comparative strength of the new genre is proven through struggle. Soon after British rock emerged, rock bands became acutely aware of

17 see Unterberger: it is usually forgotten that New Orleans musician Dr. John’s debut record Gris Gris (1968) had a large influence on British rock musicians for its mash-up of musical styles. The record mixes new styles like , the new free jazz of Coltrane and Albert Ayler, with older vaudeville song (Dr. John’s grandfather was a minstrel show performer). Dr. John was also the Stones’ first choice for musical guests on their Rock and Roll Circus program. 14 british rock modernism, 1967-1977 a key difference between rock music, which seemed to segregate mass audiences along generational lines, and the social function of music-hall song, which served to unify the different classes and generations.18 The sharp, brittle sounds on arguably the Beatles’ most experimental record, Revolver (1966) was partly the result of the band’s new intent to replicate the accelerated perceptions of road life on a studio record. The Beatles, like their hero did during his 1966 tour of Britain with the Hawks, learned that the pressures of tour life combined with the right drugs enhanced artistic creativity, at least in the short run. During the period of stock taking which followed the Beatles’ decision to quit the road, Lennon and McCartney seem to have become obsessed with the past, both their own past and a broader, national past, represented by their Liverpool home. This introspective turn seems to have led naturally to a consideration of how contemporary rock related to the experience, and the music, of their childhood. Building on the precedent of Revolver’s “Yellow Submarine,” the Beatles’ music begins to incorporate a broader sonic palette than only American rock or rhythm and blues. The personal and national past becomes a lyrical theme in songs like “Strawberry Fields Forever” and “Penny Lane.” Increasingly, non-rock instrumentation and rhythms become regular parts of Lennon/McCartney songs, at the same moment that Eastern instruments and tempi enter the songs of George Harrison. Magical Mystery Tour, the first film directed by the band, is aimed at a television audience, rather than the concert or record-buying audience. With an eye toward a national, mass audience, the film contains some of the group’s most experimental music (“I Am the Walrus”), set in the decidedly quaint narrative frame of a bus tour of the English countryside. The surreal adventures of allude both to the experiment in communal living on a bus pioneered by Ken Kesey’s Merry Pranksters, but even more obviously to the not-quite bygone age of cheap British holidays for the working and lower middle-class in the countryside, the world of seaside tours and popular entertainment dating back to the late-Victorian era. The Rolling Stones, fresh from a commercially successful and critically lauded album release, 1968’s , made a television movie,

18 as I discuss in my chapter on the Rolling Stones, the idea for the Rock and Roll Circus program originated in a discussion of Mick Jagger, The Small Faces’ , and the Who’s Peter Townshend about the future of the . Conscious that rock bands had become big enough draws to play solo rather than on the variety bill, their discussion about the future of the rock occurred at a critical juncture for the capitalization of the . The Stones’ of 1969 would inaugurate the era of stadium tours and high price tickets, but for a brief time, Jagger considered other options for rock performance like Lane’s suggestion that could become a populist enterprise. The Stones eventually chose the stadium rock route rather than Lane’s path, but Lane would later take his own advice and get off the grid after leaving the Faces. He toured England by caravan with his band Small Chance as part of the Passing Show, which also featured clowns, comics, and belly dancers. That Lane in 1968 could imagine the rock circus as a means to escape the commodification of rock music supoorts the idea that the year represents a crossroads for British rock in general. introduction 15

Rock and Roll Circus, in an attempt to outshine the Beatles’ television special, which was critically panned. The Stones and director Michael Lindsay-Hogg set live performances by the Stones and other rock bands in the scenario of the Victorian circus. That same year, the Kinks made their most ambitious record, The Village Green Preservation Society (1968), effectively giving rock music a whole new content area: a lament for the traditions of old England that rock and modernism had transformed, or displaced. Rock modernism quickly went imperial, rewriting history, or appropriating the past for its own purposes. Rock groups had learned to do what T.S. Eliot did to the Marie Lloyd story: rewrite history in order to legitimate the new mode of art. These bands contest with previous musical forms and parody them, in order to establish the hegemony of new music. In Magical Mystery Tour, the Beatles’ bus caravan unloads and puts up a tent that transforms into a theater with plush, red Victorian decor. The film that is screened in an ominous, half-lit inset video of George Harrison singing “,” a song with disembodied voices moving in and out of the mix, to an exaggerated, then halting beat, with ghostly effect. The Goon Show clowning and circus costumes donned by the Beatles to mime “I Am the Walrus” fail to make the song any less intimidating to listeners; nor does it lessen the intensity of Lennon’s vocal, or temper the lyrical barrage of the song. In Rock and Roll Circus, four songs into the Rolling Stones’ set (the first time the band had performed before an audience in a year and a half on account of Mick Jagger and Keith Richard’s arrest for possessing drugs), Jagger strips off a red shirt to reveal a new Baphomet tattoo, adding a ritual touch to the Stones’ pursuit of transgression for its own sake. The film’s fairground setting and the Circus ringleader costume Jagger dons earlier in the program also suggest that the group’s efforts to dramatize the darkness of their age now entails recreating the past. Similarly, the “Blue Jay Way” sequence in MMT highlights the internal distance that exists between the space-age modernism of the Beatles’ music and the program’s mise-en-scène. These television films mix a broad sonic range, thus invoking a wide range of emotional responses. In each case, the formal devices of the setting and the music on film are blatantly displayed. All told, these various devices disclose the greater risks and new ambition of British rock. Perhaps the television program that both MMT and RRC most closely resemble is not a rock movie at all, but Coronation Street, the long running ITV soap of working-class life and love. That TV program could hardly be called modernist: but it does provide viewers with a view of traditional Englishness, at the very moment when it seems to be passing away. The Rock and Roll Circus and Magical Mystery Tour programs both present rock as a modernist art while simultaneously preserving in quasi-documentary fashion a vision of pre-WWII Englishness. The trajectory of British rock into art developed at its own accelerated pace, with its own attendant contradictions. In the context of late-60’s British society, rock modernism had the more primary effect of widening the already sizable gap between pop stars and working-class audiences. Since the end of the 16 british rock modernism, 1967-1977 nineteenth century, sport and entertainment played a paradoxical role in British working-class life. Football and music making were foundations of working-class cultural identity, and at the same time, the primary means of dodging the traditional working-class fate of leaving school, getting married, and joining the work force. Music, especially pop music, offered the quickest escape from social : master three chords and you can make a living. Young musicians, most of them working class, made it rich and, cut off from their roots, began to insist their music be taken seriously as art, not entertainment. The cultural transformations we associate with the 1960s were luxury items for most working-class people in Britain. Young working-class women often could not afford the luxury item of the contraceptive pill. Unlike the speed pills favored by young Mods in the early 60s, LSD, the new preferred drug of university art students and psychedelic rock bands, did not easily accommodate the routines of the working week. The Anglican Church and the Socialist party alike spoke out against what they deemed the selfish, hedonistic morality of university students. The student Left was not exempt from the charges of reckless pleasure-seeking, and rock groups themselves seemed to embody the worst excesses of nihilist youth. By the end of the 1960s, British rock music was a world of young men who lived like princes, with similarly large retinues of hangers-on, segregated from everyday life by their enormous wealth. In this context, the aspirations of British rock groups to establish rock’s aesthetic merit, and of artifice that was a distinctive feature of British rock, widened the gap between rock music and working class culture. This seems the context for the lyrical fatalism of John Lennon’s “,” which appeared on Lennon’s first post-Beatles record in 1970, where a rock singer only realizes after becoming a star that the music he makes has the broader function of maintaining the status quo. The story of the Sex Pistols represents the finale of the modernist experiment in British rock covered in this book: the moment when, for the first and last time, the music hall as an image of ersatz Englishness played a role in furthering the specific evolution of British rock. The Sex Pistols’ lead singer Johnny Rotten incorporated the broad theatrical gestures of music-hall performance in the style of the singer. It is clear in retrospect that larger historical forces, including the crisis of Labor and the end of growing working-class prosperity prompted Rotten/formerly Lydon’s incorporation of music-hall theatricality in hard rock performance; the result was an anxious attempt to reintegrate British rock with a specific British working-class identity, at the very moment that workers’ struggles were marginalized in British politics, and the welfare state under attack by social and fiscal Conservatives. Sex Pistols’ bassist Glen Matlock recalls the Kensal Green neighborhood where he grew up as “an old-fashioned, tight-knit working class community, the kind that survived through thick and thin since Victoria was on the throne and that nowadays only exists in sociology textbooks and TV soaps” (although it is precisely because the old world exists in TV soaps that Matlock can evoke it in a single sentence) (20). However, the welfare state that had put in place policies for alleviating extreme poverty was being contested on several fronts. introduction 17

Rampant youth unemployment; the relocation of working-class neighborhoods, terraced houses being replaced by high rise concrete council flats; perhaps most of all, the popularity of American-style consumerism among the young, transformed the value system that once held tight-knit working-class communities together. In this context, The Sex Pistols’ embrace of the music-hall past represented an attempt to reclaim a link between class and traditional Englishness that would prove as significant to the music and ideology of the band as their later, infamous attack on the archetypal British institutions of monarchy and parliamentary democracy. The old entertainment still retained its association with an earlier age, when working-class culture had seemed cohesive and still isolated from American influence. Where the previous generation of rock modernists had relegated music-hall Englishness to the past, Rotten embraces the form in large part because it had fallen out of favor among the British rock establishment. The Sex Pistols also attempted to reaffirm the status of rock music as oppositional, in the face of the obvious fact that rock had now become a global industry, as suggested by the rise of stadium rock. In one respect, the Pistols succeeded in linking with a style of dissent; now, more than thirty years later, punk rock is inseparable in popular memory from the colorful subculture of multi-colored Mohawks, safety pins, and torn clothing associated with the Pistols’ first audiences in the UK. The Pistols’ endeavor to splice rock music and traditional Englishness no longer signified what earlier attempts at a cross-pollinated musical style did in the 1960s. In its way, the Pistols’ music represents the kind of nostalgia for social hierarchy that the Kinks’ Village Green Preservation Society record merely pretends to be; unlike the Beatles, the Pistols’ appropriation of music-hall form was not a gesture of modernist irony, but an attempt to infuse the genre with a contemporaneous sense of working-class misrule.19 I treat UK punk rock as the definitive close of the narrative of British rock modernism outlined in this book. The Sex Pistols became closely identified with the subculture community that formed around them, and the term “punk rock” quickly came to designate a specific music formula, or a social movement, more than an art practice. Punk rock music lost what Bernard Gendron calls its “arty, avant-gardish, studied, and ironic dimension,” elements restored by the subsequent post-punk movement in the UK (270). It was only after the break up of the Sex Pistols that lead singer John Lydon could return to making music that was avowedly conceptual and experimental, in his band .20

19 the link the Pistols’ forged between contemporary punk and music-hall theater was not lost on either an older generation of performers such as Ian Dury, or on younger bands like . Both acts had strong working-class followings, and wrote songs that revived the traditional music-hall sing-along chorus, without, as was the case with 70’s British rock, signifying a saving, ironic distance from older pop music. For more on the link between Dury and music hall, see Double. 20 The finale of the modernist moment in rock music that I discuss is found in UK post-punk, not in punk rock. The movement is comprehensively treated in ; 18 british rock modernism, 1967-1977

The Sex Pistols’ meteoric rise and flame out compromises the end of my story; the book begins, however, with a narrative that suggests both the capacity of tradition to stifle or hamper creativity and an essential link between modernist aesthetic projects and masculine privilege. Rock modernism arguably reproduced gender hierarchy in more pronounced ways than British literary modernism, where at least two women, Virginia Woolf and Katherine Mansfield, were recognized by the literary establishment as standard bearers of the movement. In contrast, the modernist moment in British rock was almost exclusively male. My first chapter focuses on Dusty Springfield’s (London Irish Mary O’Brien) attempt to escape the stereotype of the northern woman and adopt a cosmopolitan musical style intended to parallel the work of the experimental wing of British rock, with her 1969 record, Dusty in Memphis. The record is a remarkable musical achievement, and represents a declaration of independence on Springfield’s part that was also a risky career move; yet at the sametime, the record represents a bold attempt to leave behind the ersatz folk aesthetic of music hall. Dusty in Memphis marks a key transition from one discourse of musical authenticity, rooted in the stereotype of the emotionally direct, naturally expressive northern woman, to another discourse of authenticity, rooted in the transatlantic “Soul” aesthetic. At the same time, the record was a triumph of artifice. Springfield’s record establishes ground-breaking links between subaltern femininity, Black American music, and the “primitive” American South. Still, the record presents a troubling legacy for British Women singers. With the brief exception of punk and post-punk British music, British women never became integrated in the collective enterprise of the (Harris). Even today, the most celebrated and critically acclaimed British women performers remain neo-soul singers in the classic Springfield mode, like Amy Winehouse and Duffy; their “blackface” performance (and in Winehouse’s case, self-destructive behavior) also serves to reinforce their musical integrity since the persona seems so authentic. Or as British folk-singer “KT” Tunstall states, in this revealing appreciation of Winehouse, “You have to go through some hard experiences to sing what she sings about and sing the way she does. She’s absolutely real” (Miller). The book also aims to contest the prevailing interpretation of British rock of the 1960s and 1970s that has recently become hegemonic in British music periodicals like Mojo and Uncut, which casts rock groups of the era as representatives of an explicitly national cultural achievement. British rock in the 60s was a transnational phenomenon; it developed from admiration for its sources in American music, an admiration that broadened to include a respect for classical Indian music; but to a surprising extent, British Rock modernism is now interpreted as “heritage” culture, exclusively tied to the national past. It is not mere coincidence that the 60’s rock experiment was so susceptible to being re-branded as a heritage-related commodity. A legacy of the so-called

I hope that my compressed account of rock modernism sets the aesthetic evolution of British rock in sharper relief. introduction 19

Britpop movement of the 1990s was that bands could make hit records and, in the case of the rock band Oasis, draw stadium size audiences. served as yet another reminder that, for all the extensive discourse of pop and rock criticism extolling independent artisans and equating creativity with low budgets, powerful economic interests dominated the production popular music. Britpop produced a carnivalesque travesty of rock history: the Mod subculture from 1960s returned, but this time as its evil conservative twin. In 1966, when England won the World Cup and it appeared as if London produced the best magazines, fashions, and pop music in the world, Mod style expressed the underside of triumphant Englishness. As Jon Savage observes, 60’s Mod had signified something dark, edgy, androgynous, subversive, multiracial—a taste in the Supremes and Four Tops, West Indian and bluebeat, the Stones in drag emblazoned on the sleeve of the “Have you Seen Your Mother Baby (Standing in the Shadow)” single, and in full musical anarchy on the record inside the sleeve.21 Mod returned largely as a result of championing of Mod fashions and music by new rock icons like Oasis: but now it represented an Irony-lite response to resurgent Jingoism, also evidenced in the not-so-Camp trend of wearing Union Jack apparel. Britpop revived a simpler, less dangerous version of Mod that easily accommodated the most crudest sort of national chauvinism. The need for community represented by the fandom for Oasis quickly degraded into “New Lad” culture, working-class consciousness into a new stereotype of “thick,” working-class louts, at the same time forging a link between the new rock and a mindless party ethos. The concept of British rock is now increasingly linked to a protectionism that contradicts the roots of the music in cultural practices that traversed the Black Atlantic. The revived interest in the Beatles in the Britpop era was part of this systematic re-interpretation of British rock as heritage culture, representing an age of British hegemony over popular music that new bands like Oasis aspired to reclaim. Britpop inserted the Beatles back into a quasi-imperialist version of Britishness, reinterpreting the dissident social currents of the 1960s as an aggressive nativism.22 Even the Sex Pistols, who Johnny Rotten/Lydon proudly proclaimed as “the anti-Beatles,” have been recast as avatars of national culture since the band reformed as an occasional touring unit in 1996. Given the chance to tell their own story as a band in Julien Temple’s documentary, The Filth and the Fury, the Sex Pistols treat their childhood memories of working-class community with the same reverence, perhaps more, as the Beatles did in post-Revolver recordings like “Penny Lane” and “Strawberry Fields Forever.” The recent neo-nationalist mood in British rock seems to have heightened the Sex Pistols’ investment in Englishness. The band’s CD box set is blazoned with a Union Jack: no longer quite the controversial gesture it was when of the Who wore a jacket of the flag design on the cover of the Who’s debut record. The DVD of the

21 as Jon Savage observes; see Savage’s interview in the “Extras” on the Live Forever DVD. 22 see Andy Bennett for more on the Britishness of Britpop. 20 british rock modernism, 1967-1977

Pistols’ recent reunion concert (May 2008) takes its title, There’ll Always Be an England, from a patriotic song that became hugely popular with the outbreak of World War. The Sex Pistols further underscored a specific identity as a London band in the press interviews promoting their most recent reunion shows in Brixton in 2007.23 British rock now faces the fate of the defunct music hall: of becoming a mere artifact of “Englishness.” Such a misreading may be inevitable, since no music can float above history. Still, I hope that reexamining the evolution of British rock into art might also make it easier to reclaim the cosmopolitan ethos that once animated rock music, and unsettle, if only slightly, the new consensus that British rock is an innate expression of Britishness. By returning to the moment when modernist experiment marked the musical practice of once working class and suburban British youth, my main goal is to clarify the character of British rock as vernacular culture. My aim is to redefine British rock as a cultural hybrid: as a practice interwoven with the techniques of modernist art, on account of the English art school legacy. At a moment when budget cuts in education dominate state economic policy in most Western industrial nations, and with a virulent anti-intellectualism dominant in the American media sphere, it is timely to recall that British rock was the surprising legacy of the policies that constituted the post-WWII British welfare state: of the 1944 Education Act passed by Clement Atlee’s Labor government, which mandated education for all until age 15 and thus delayed entry into the work force, and the National Assistance Act of 1948, which gave young working-class people the time to learn a craft— and perhaps master a —after leaving school (Jim Melly 4). The modernist moment in rock is not a story about individual “geniuses,” but the unplanned result of popular creativity facilitated by state policy. It was a modernism made possible by welfare state reforms, and not “pure” working-class expression.

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