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A review by lindy_b
Out of the Vinyl Deeps: On Rock Music by Ellen Willis
4.0
Rock music, more so than any other genre of popular music, relies upon a mythology created in a dialectic between the performers, the fans, and the industry (which includes the music press). Ellen Willis, acutely aware of her positions within the mythology, relentlessly interrogates that dialectic, without-- and this is important-- relinquishing joy. Willis writes with panache and self-assurance; some of her opinions are unpopular (then and even more so now) but she never apologizes for having them; there are no long justifications for declaring critically-acclaimed songs/albums "awful." Someday I hope to write like this.
One such unpopular opinion of 1972, which I would like to tweet passive aggressively at every music writer working today:
The longer essays (e.g. "Dylan," "The Velvet Underground," "Beginning to See the Light") are all excellent. Many of the shorter columns are also good, but being bite-sized they leave me craving more, which is by turns motivating and frustrating. I want a whole book just dedicated to the politics of music internal to the Woman's Movement.
The pieces are organized into loosely themed chapters and then chronologically within the chapters, which I didn't think was a helpful decision as it rendered tracking the evolution of Willis's criticism through time a convoluted process.
One such unpopular opinion of 1972, which I would like to tweet passive aggressively at every music writer working today:
A lot of nonsense has been written about Bowie. The ubiquitous comparisons to Alice Cooper, in particular, can only be put down to willful incomprehension. There is nothing provocative, perverse, or revolting about Bowie. He is all glitter, no grease, and his act is neither overtly nor implicitly violent. As for his self-proclaimed bisexuality, it really isn't that big of a deal. British rock musicians have always been less uptight than Americans about displaying, and even flaunting, their 'feminine' side. Androgynousness is an important part of what the Beatles and the Stones represent; once upon a time Mick Jagger's bisexual mannerisms and innuendos were considered far-out. Bowie's dyed red hair, makeup, legendary dresses, and onstange flirtations with his guitarist just take this tradition one step further. In any case, Bowie's aura is not especially sexual; Ronson is the turn-on of the group, and his attractiveness-- platinum hair, high heels and all-- is very straight, if refreshingly non-macho. What Bowie offers is not 'decadence' (sorry, Middle America) but a highly professional pop surface with a soft core[.] (39-40)
The longer essays (e.g. "Dylan," "The Velvet Underground," "Beginning to See the Light") are all excellent. Many of the shorter columns are also good, but being bite-sized they leave me craving more, which is by turns motivating and frustrating. I want a whole book just dedicated to the politics of music internal to the Woman's Movement.
The pieces are organized into loosely themed chapters and then chronologically within the chapters, which I didn't think was a helpful decision as it rendered tracking the evolution of Willis's criticism through time a convoluted process.