Welcome to the penultimate edition of the Cancel Culture Club. Yes, the steam's running out of this feature, but I like the idea of doing a Top Ten before calling it quits. Plus, I promised Ernie we'd find room for one of his favourites.
Meanwhile, we come to Lola. One of the biggest, most-loved hits by arguably Britain's best band of the 60s. Who in their right mind could possibly consider this classic pop song worthy of cancelling?
Step forward, honorary Cancel Culture Club member Richard Melville Hall, aka Moby, who last month decided that every copy of Lola should be burned in a big bonfire outside J.K. Rowling's mansion.
Here he is speaking the Grauniad, who probably cherished this quote and sent Moby a medal for his Services To Pseudo-Woke...
Lola by the Kinks came up on a Spotify playlist, and I thought the lyrics were gross and transphobic. I like their early music, but I was really taken aback at how unevolved the lyrics are.
OK, with the cat now firmly ensconced amid the pigeons, I wonder what the original CCC Committee members think about this matter? JC, The Vinyl Villain - care to offer your thoughts?
And to be honest, if that was the only response Moby's rant had elicited, I'd have been pretty content to leave it at that. But JC wasn't alone in his opprobrium. Here's the aforementioned Secret Agent and Alan Wicker replacement, Ernie from 27 Leggies..
Can we cancel Moby for being a pillock and, according to Natalie Portman, a bit of a creepy perv?
Do I need to add the word "allegedly" to that? Just to be on the safe side?
Blur - Girls & Boys
All very good, of course, but none of this is getting us any closer to considering the issue at hand - is Lola transphobic? SWC from No Badger Required...?
I do as it happens, have a very good story about Lola by the Kinks.....
Well, I do hope you'll share that with us one day, SWC, perhaps on your own blog in between all the other top notch features (currently a reader-generated list of the world's most underappreciated bands, of which my own entry will stick out like a sore thumb).
That's how I've always interpreted it, C - and as always, you are able to express that in a far more precise and succinct way than I could have managed. And although songwriter Ray Davies remained silent on Moby's comments, his brother Dave was less reluctant to wade in...
“I am highly insulted that Moby would accuse my brother of being ‘unevolved’ or transphobic in any way.”
Dave goes on to explain how the song had support back in the 70s from San Francisco band The Cockettes, which included transgender members.
“We appreciated them. Why is Moby being so rude about this simple song? We’re not transphobic. Why does he have to have a go at us?”
Furthermore, Dave shared a letter from Dallas-born trans-punk singer Jayne County who admitted to being “thrilled and amazed” by Lola...
“Lola will always be one of those songs that for me ‘broke the ice’ so to speak! A song that breaks down barriers and brings a used to be, hush, hush subject to the forefront and makes it sound perfectly natural to be singing a song about a ‘girl’ named Lola!”
All of which sounds pretty conclusive to me, but it does open up a wider issue, which - once again - I'll let C put into words far better than mine...
What concerns me more instead is if there becomes an increasing trend of jumping on the 'woke' bandwagon without actually thinking something through and fully examining why, and Moby's outcry about these lyrics strikes me as a perfect example of that - a knee jerk response. There's only one jerk here as far as I can see, though, and it's not Ray Davies.
When I was initially putting together a list of songs for the Cancel Culture Club to tackle, I never considered Lola... until I asked Professor Google and found a number of people online who held the same opinion as Moby... and it wasn't just Lola that raised their hackles. No, there's also a lot of grumbling about this little beauty...
Holly came from Miami, F.L.A.
Hitch-hiked her way across the U.S.A.
Plucked her eyebrows on the way
Shaved her legs and then he was a she
She says, "Hey babe, take a walk on the wild side"
And because I figured that tune might well come up today, I mentioned it to the rest of the committee. Here's Walter from A Few Good Times In My Life with his thoughts on both tunes...
In both The Kinks’ song and “Walk on the Wild Side”, the lyrics are taken out of their original context. I can’t detect any homophobia or disrespect toward gender identity in either of them. What they have in common is that, in their lyrics, they tackled topics that were still considered taboo more than 60 years ago.
I don’t think anyone should have the right to judge a historical phenomenon in hindsight. If such texts are no longer used today, that’s fine. But they shouldn’t be criticized in hindsight or from a narrow perspective. In that sense, “cancelling” them is not appropriate.
Thank you, Walter. I think one thing we've agreed upon (with a couple of exceptions), through the duration of this feature, is that "cancelling" isn't appropriate in most circumstances. Maybe that's why we need to Cancel the Cancel Culture Club. Otherwise, we're just encouraging the likes of over-sensitive bandwagon-jumpers like Moby.
Our final response today comes from Swiss Adam, the man in charge of the Bagging Area...
Moby is, not for the first time, wrong.
I've always heard Lola as being totally sympathetic to Lola and to trans people. In fact Ray concludes by saying 'it's a mixed up, muddled up, shook up world / Except for Lola'. In the song, Lola is the least messed up and most sorted person. Lola knows exactly who she is.
Walk On The Wild Side is a work of genius, a song by Lou Reed at his post-Velvets best and who was living at the time he wrote it (and for the rest of the decade) with Rachel, a trans woman. Lou is celebrating Holly, Candy, Little Joe, the Sugar Plum Fairy and Jackie and all the other mixed up, shook up people who lived in his downtown New York world. His use of the word coloured is dated but we're going to have to let that go, I think.
Yeah, but at that time, "coloured" was considered the less-offensive terminology, wasn't it? Which links very nicely to what Walter says above.
I'm saving Adam's final line to close this post with... but first, a confession.
I had hoped to get an expert, first-hand opinion on today's issue, so I sent an email to an old friend who has become a leading figure in the transgender community. I felt a little cheeky in doing so, but I also felt like I'd regret it if I didn't ask her opinion on the matter.
Sadly, my email received no reply. There could be any number of reasons for this, but now I'm wracked with guilt in case I've caused offence. This is someone who often speaks about her own journey, and who is considered a champion of the transgender community... but there's a difference between being approached for comment by the press, and getting a personal email from an old colleague. Because I didn't want to follow that email up and worsen any potential offence I might have caused, I'd like to apologise here for it, just in case. My intent was honourable, in my mind at least.
But this did make me think... just because Jayne County and other members of the LGBTQ+ community have leapt to Lola's defence, we can't take it as read that every trans person feels the same. As the Cancel Culture Club has proved, our responses to art can vary, and there's no such thing as a "wrong" opinion, if you can justify it. I find Forrest Gump a deeply offensive film, for example, while other people think it's just a bit of light entertainment with a cheery moral. Am I wrong or are they? Or are we both just responding to a text in our own ways? I guess what I'm saying is, if a trans person does find Lola objectionable, who am I to say they're wrong? They've got more right to their opinion than I have to cast aspersions on Gump.
Against Me! - Transgender Dysphoria Blues
Still, I do think it comes down to intent versus interpretation. Going back to Moby's initial objection - is Lola... or Walk On The Wild Side, for that matter... actually transphobic? It may be possible to interpret either song in that way, but that surely wasn't the intent of either songwriter. One might infer an offensive meaning, but it doesn't appear either songwriter meant to imply that interpretation.
Or, as Swiss Adam puts it...
If Lou Reed and Ray Davies are on the wrong side of this debate, then I'm not sure where the debate has gone.
I was largely unaware of the story of Alan Bates and his fight to clear the names and reputations of hundreds of Post Office employees. The recent TV dramatisation starring Toby Jones came as quite the eye-opener... and I'm still reeling. It's the sort of story that proves reality can be far scarier than fiction. If it wasn't true, I wouldn't believe it. Surely there must have been...? Why didn't...? What sort of people...? How could they...?
Words fail me.
Here are some songs that feature the Post Office. The warm and welcoming local high street institution that we all grew up with... not the evil, autonomous Mega-Corporation that took it over.
Robert Arthur "Tut" Taylor Sr. was a champion and preserver of old time bluegrass music who once sold a Hank Williams guitar to Neil Young. Here he reminds us of a Post Office to be proud of...
Buccaneer is from Jamaica, but his real name is Andrew Bradford. He was stuck in the Post Office back in 1994.
As soon as I started thinking about songs featuring the Post Office, two sprang immediately to mind. The first is just a mondegreen though. Still, if Michael really was singing...
Keep on to the Post Office
Don't stop till you get enough
...then there wouldn't be a better song to support Alan Bates's 20+ year fight.
Feeling brow-beaten Day after day, I think it's over, but I just can't get away
You said, forget it, Well, don't jump the gun, You're laughing this time, Next time, you might be the one To tell... The Story of the Blues!
First they take your pride, Turn it all inside, And then you realise you've got nothing left to lose So you try to stop, Try to get back up And then you realise, you're telling The Story of the Blues.
At a California university in the 1950s, a rather bizarre experiment took place.
A man is sitting in a chair with lots of electrical wires coming out of it. Some of these wires are taped to his arms, his legs and his face with electrodes. One by one, a group of student volunteers are led into an adjacent room where they can see the wired-up man through a window. A scientist in a white coat tells them that they are taking part in an experiment, that it’s quite safe, and that it’s for the good of humanity. All they have to do is follow instructions.
On the desk in front of them is a box with a big red button on. The scientist checks his watch, consults his clipboard, and then says, “Push the button.”
The student pushes the button.
The man in the next room suddenly begins to scream and convulse, his body twisting and writhing, his face stretched in agony. This goes on for a few seconds before it stops and the man slumps back into his chair.
“Did I…?” says the volunteer, looking concerned. “Was that because I…?”
“Press the button again,” says the scientist.
“Wait, no, did I…?”
“Press the button again.”
“I don’t want to hurt him. You said it was safe. I don’t think—”
As recommended by Ben, I’ve started reading Dr. Faith G. Harper’s Unfuck Your Brain. At first, I found her tone a little uncomfortable for a science / self-help book, because she swears. A lot. Not just in the title of the book, but pretty much every other sentence. She also uses a lot of slang and hipster / yoof speak that seems out of place for a medical professional of her age (not that I know exactly how old she is, but she doesn’t look like a fresh-faced Millennial).
However, after a chapter or two, I found myself warming to her style, even appreciating it. She clearly knows her shit (to use her vernacular), and throws a lot of heavy brain-science at you, but does so in a way that’s very down to earth and actually quite endearing after a while. Your own mileage may vary, but I’m starting to learn that we can choose how we react to things, whether we like them or not. We don’t have to follow our initial instincts… which is a good thing, since my initial instinct appears to be hardwired to dislike most things automatically… and then just go along with that, without question. This may well have something to do with a concept Dr. Faith has just introduced me too: my storytelling brain…
It's not just English teachers, frustrated wannabe novelists and people who spend far too much time writing about obscure musical trivia on the internet who have storytelling brains… we all do. Here’s Paul J. Zak, director of the Centre for Neuroeconomics Studies at Claremont Graduate University in California.
…as social creatures who regularly affiliate with strangers, stories are an effective way to transmit important information and values from one individual or community to the next. Stories that are personal and emotionally compelling engage more of the brain, and thus are better remembered, than simply stating a set of facts.
Weirdly, this is something I’ve been teaching my students for a while now in my own clumsy way, without really understanding the science behind it. The writing question in GCSE English Language Paper 2 gives students an opinion such as “Homework is a waste of time” or “Prisons are too lenient” and then asks them to write an article, speech or letter in which they argue their opinion on this subject, for or against. I regularly advise students that the worst thing they can do is to start out by telling the reader their opinion and bombarding them with facts – much better to open with a story that illustrates their opinion in a persuasive manner.
We all love stories – and good stories make us care about characters and want to know what happens to them. Even unpleasant characters. Stories help us process our own experiences, emotions and relationships. Through stories we gain empathy which helps us connect and stay connected with other people (remember how the amygdala is interested in protecting our place in society as much as saving us from danger?). You meet your mate in the pub? What’s the first thing you say after the initial greetings and small talk are out of the way? “You’ll never guess what happened to me this week…”
Storytelling is also what our brains do when they’ve not got anything more important to deal with. That’s why our brains keep telling stories when we’re asleep – dreaming. That’s why our minds wander when we’re driving home and we start to construct stories about what we’ll have for tea, where we’re going this weekend, the conversation we might have with our significant other. We make plans, which are just stories, and try to head off conflict (which is an essential part of any story, but something we go out of our way to avoid in real life). And Dr. Zak even believes it’s why we slow down to look at car accidents – it’s not out of a ghoulish desire to see mangled bodies and twisted metal, it’s self-preservation. If we can construct a story about why it happened, we can then stop the same thing happening to ourselves. So don’t feel guilty the next time you drive by a multi-car pile-up: the scientists have given you a free pass to gawk.
Stories help us learn. This is something good teachers understand. Even barely average to occasionally piss poor teachers like myself pick it up eventually. Say I’ve got to explain the imperative voice to a class. I can give them the grammatical explanation like so…
“The imperative mood is a verb form used to make a demand, issue a warning, or give advice or instructions. The subject of sentences in the imperative mood is implied to be the second-person pronoun “you,” but the word usually isn't actually included (e.g., “close the door”).”
Or I can tell them the story at the top of this post, to illustrate the power of a command sentence that uses the imperative voice.
Is it a true story? Well, I’m sure I’ve read about similar experiments that were used to explain why so many Nazi soldiers followed the orders of the Third Reich in WWII… but whether it’s true or not really doesn’t matter. The fact is, that story is far more likely to help your brain remember the definition, purpose and power of the imperative voice than reading a dozen grammar textbooks back to back ever will.
Stories help us learn because they create recognisable patterns which relate to our own experiences. Or, to use science talk, they create and strengthen neural pathways. Here’s an explanation from The Great Minds Clinic…
A neural pathway is a series of connected neurons that send signals from one part of the brain to another.
We already have a series of neural pathways, and we are creating new ones all the time. An example of an early neural pathway is that if a baby smiles, he or she is rewarded by a smile in return and possibly a cuddle. The same baby may work out that if he or she touches something sharp, it may hurt. Both are valuable learning experiences.
Neural pathways tell our brain how to react to whatever is thrown at us on a daily basis. That includes things we’ve dealt with before and things we’ve only ever seen or heard about second hand (which is why we’re so interested in car crashes). It’s like the basic programming language you might have learned in school, starting with IF…
IF b > 10 THEN GOTO 20.
Or, to put it into language Dr. Faith G. Harper would be more likely to approve of…
IF hungry sabretooth tiger approaching THEN getthefuckoutofDodge!
All very useful in terms of keeping us alive, which you’ll recall is our brain’s number one function.
Except…
Except sometimes we create neural pathways that are significantly less useful, using stories that reinforce negative or self-destructive responses and ultimately lead us into a world of pain and misery.
Which is where I’ll pick up next time.
(A reminder, if you're new here... I'm writing these posts for myself, to help me understand my own mental health and hopefully manage it a little better than I have been doing over the past few years. They may be of interest to you too, but I'm not preaching. Or, as Todd Snider puts it, "I did not do this to change your mind about anything, I did this to ease my own mind about everything".)
Yesterday morning, Jane Russell helped usher in a Top Ten Jane Songs... but I wonder if anyone can identify the famous Jane above? Piece of cake, right?
It's been a while since I ran any guest posts here, and the only reason for that is that nobody has offered any. Fair enough, most of you have your own blogs to worry about. Fortunately, George has got sick of reading my interminable ramblings day after day, or perhaps taken mercy on me after yesterday's bumper post, and offered not one, but two guest posts to give me what Huey Lewis would call a Couple Days Off. So Guest Post Thursday is back!
Here's George...
I was listening to one of the three cds in the Sick, Sorry and Sober set recently and I heard this:
Today I passed you in the street,
And my heart fell at your feet,
I can’t help it if I’m still in love with you
And I thought that it was genius: a simple lyric, a simple tune, that Hawaiian-sounding guitar, that reedy, plaintive and painful voice, combining to make an unforgettable song. I can understand why some 70s and 80s country music puts people off, but I will never understand how people could not like and admire this song.
And if you can get hold of that 3 cd set I would urge you to do so.
A while later, whilst sitting around not doing much, just singing those lines, I thought of this, another simple intro, builds up a bit, that “ooo” the drum roll, then Levi Stubbs’ voice...
I’m spoiling you, two utterly brilliant songs, it’s got to be downhill now. There’s a lot of song titles that start “I can’t”, and an amazing number of them are great. And then there’s that abomination by crap prog turned crap pop group with that drummer-singer. So, to cleanse your ears after just polluting them with the thought of that song, here’s some hard-rock blues.
Anita is on heat as I write this, has been for a couple of days, so much bleating round these parts, and it’s difficult to get her in the goat shed. Parsley goes in no problem, a bit of bread, corn, he’s there, but at times like these, not Anita. FORTY minutes it took on Tuesday. She’s bleating for Francisco’s young male goat:
So a Top Ten “I Can’t” songs. Yes, some obvious ones not there, some deliberately excluded on grounds of taste, but not Barry Manilow, oh no, but because the song is Can’t Smile WIthout You, and not I Can’t Smile Without You.
Thanks of course to Rol for allowing this to be posted. Feel free to leave your inane comment.
And I’ve just been informed that I can write a part 2. I bet you can’t wait!
Because tradition dictates I close my posts with a video (I feel naked without them), I found another version of George's top song which is equally worthy of your ears. And I'm glad George didn't diss Barry. Less bothered about him dissing the drummer-singer.
In a desperate effort to move this blog away from wall-to-wall misery, self-pity and middle-aged grumpiness, here's a new feature in which I pay tribute to celebrities who have been immortalised in song.
I don't know why I chose to start with Robert Mitchum, other than I wanted the list to be random and he was the first person who popped into my mind. When I was younger, and a huge Humphrey Bogart fan, I never liked Robert Mitchum. I found him rather wooden compared to Bogie: given they both played Philip Marlowe, it was hard not to line them up together.
In later years though, I grew to appreciate Mitchum's performances more, and I could see why he was considered a very cool dude. In modern times, I felt the same way about Keanu Reeves at first, thinking him a one-note actor (that note being Ted "Theodore" Logan), but over time I developed a lot more respect for him. Like Mitchum, he has real screen presence. And that indefinable cool.
Julian Cope was the first person to immortalise Robert Mitchum in song...
The part in Ryan's Daughter when you lose your wife
I've never seen a more dignified man in my life
But when you start looking for Bob Mitchum songs though, you'll be amazed how popular he is...
Before we get onto this week's winning tune, it's worth remembering that Mr. Mitchum had a short-lived musical career of his own... and I'm guessing a certain Mr. B. Springsteen might be aware of it...
Now I can't guarantee that every week I'll find quite so many songs about one celebrity... I'm sure there are plenty with only one to their name. But when I first thought about starting with Robert Mitchum, this was the song I knew I'd finish with. Because it's almost as cool as he was...
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