More Sex Drugs and Rock and Roll: An Insider View

There Goes Gravity: A Life in Rock and Roll by Lisa Robinson

A book Review by: Kurt von Behrmann

                Access is crucial to any journalist. However, acquiring it in the rarefied realm of contemporary music presents special challenges. The biggest obstacle is gaining the trust of musicians, particular those who have achieved stratospheric success.  Lisa Robinson had entrée into that world, and all that comes with it, the good, the bad, the ugly and even the boring.

 “There Goes Gravity: A Life in Rock and Roll” chronicles Robinson’s encounters with acts that achieved iconic status and those that were seminal in the underground music scene of 70’s in New York.  The thrust of the book focuses on her stint as a traveling journalist with the Rolling Stones and Led Zepplin.   Both from the U.K., wildly successful and huge fans of African-American music, their respective tours included the obligatory chartered jets, stretch limos and the inevitable conflicts that place egos and artistic integrity into battles of the wills.

                Robinson correctly notes that unless you are part of the self-indulgence that comes with the rock and roll highlife – quick sex, long drinking bouts, endless supplies of drugs and the usual mayhem that accompanies creative people on the road, you are on one tour and they are on another.  Robinson was not a part of the party.   It is obvious from her observations she was aloof from the debauchery. 

                Even if you were not a participant in the shenanigans, it seems a little odd that a reporter would not want to be front and center to the action, if there was any.  Clearly things were happening on tour, but Robinson has either turned a blind eye to the excesses or had no real knowledge of them.  What emerges rather quickly is that Robinson is both fond of her subjects and a little protective of them.  This certainly fosters great friendships, but it hardly makes for exciting reading.

                If you are expecting an expose of the behind the scenes workings of pop music in high gear, you will be disappointed.  A Wendy Williams type of insider providing the “hot topics” is not here.  There are no truly sordid stories here that one may not have read about elsewhere.  

                But, that doesn’t meant that Robinson has nothing of importance to say.  What she does communicate well is the excitement of being on tour and the attendant luxury that comes with huge global success.  She does convey some of the wonder and thrill of perpetual jet travel, meeting the famous and staying in high end hotels in exciting cities.  There is plenty of that here.   

                But there is also a down side.  There is the unexpected consequence of having some so much so soon and so often that it can lead to a type ennui.  After a while the travel becomes tedious and one hotel starts to look very much like the other.  When your world becomes work, travel and work, even with the trappings of success, it can lead to a blur. Even the performances themselves suffer from the unrelenting pressure to maintain stardom.  It is hard getting to the top, and just as hard staying there.  The fear of slipping into irrelevance is omnipresent when you are a proven winner.   

                Robinson captures those feelings, but she seems to be unable to draw any conclusions from what she sees.   She makes note of the chemical dependencies and one night stands with groupies, but she never looks deeper to ask the penetrating question, why?

                Robinson seems content to list her encounters with high powered Rock and Roll acts, but seldom offers up any type of conclusions or assessments of what she has discovered.  There are comments here and there, but nothing that really sums up what all of the travel, music and mayhem was really all about.   There is clearly meaning here, but it feels decidedly ambiguous.   While ambiguity can be a useful tool for an artist, it can ruin a reporter.

                Short of funny anecdotes, or stinging gossip, Robinson does manage to get a few digs in from time to time.  For the most part, she genuinely likes her subject and makes no bones about that.  But, if a celebrity doesn’t connect with her, the dislike is openly expressed.

                One can argue about the talents of Madonna, but one cannot deny that she was a game changer.  Utilizing the emerging world of music videos, hers were about image and sexuality married to dance music.  Like her or not, she created the template for solo female acts that is still in use today.   

                Robinson did not feel the need to accord her a place in the pantheon of game changers in contemporary music, which is her choice.  But she had no problem finding her distant and self-absorbed.  Robinson was looking for something more from Madonna.  Whatever that something was, it left a substantially negative bad taste in the author’s mouth.

                Allegedly, according to Robinson, Sir Elton John didn’t have a particularly high opinion of the material girl either.  “The only thing she has done for the gay community is take their money,” supposedly said Sir John.   

                Another musician that “irked” Robinson was Yoko Ono.  For a period of time, John Lennon and Robinson enjoyed some rather detailed exchanges.  Ono was also included on some of these conversations. The relationship was cordial.   In one of the books better crafted moments, Robinson makes a surprising revelation about Ono. It doesn’t speak well of her. It also provides a dramatic moment that is much needed in a narrative that at times seems to be monotone at moments.

                A thread that comes up periodically are the conflicts of fame and creativity.  Robinson outlines the phases of a band from garage to recording studios and the price paid for success.  It is in the words of the musicians themselves that one witnesses a self-awareness that is worldly, wise and a bit cynical.

                Common to all of the bands are the years of struggle. The battle to make music, be seen, be heard and obtain that most sacred of documents, “a recording contract” are the first phase.  Following the support of a record company, sales start, recognition and fame follow, if lucky.  With the fame comes the money, the acclaim, the awards, the adulation and sometimes the hangers on.

                In the world of popular music, it is an unstated rule that you can’t appear too ambitious.   The image of a musician is someone who loves what he or she does and the other aspects of success are incidental.  The truth of the matter is that all successful musical acts are wildly ambitious.  They simply do not put it in print.

Madonna, early one, happened to be very open about her ambitions.  For acts based on usurping authority and traditional values, ambition and success can be the death of a muse and the annihilation of artistic integrity.

                Robinson does successfully touch upon this point at several times. It is worth noting.  The biggest problem for an act is both success and obscurity.  If you are a maverick and a rebel, a certain kind anyway, you need the edge that comes with the struggle.  If you hang onto your principles and play long and hard, you win an audience and have a muse.  But, if you fail to reach an audience, you are forever stuck in a bohemia where you have limits and restrictions on what you can do.  Certainly, you can inspire and brave new ground, but without some support of some kind, your art dries up and evaporates.   One cannot stay in the underground for too long.   If you do, you  risk sliding into obscurity.

                Should success hit, you have support, an audience and fame.  Now your work hits worldwide and everyone knows you.  First comes acclaim and then the monetary rewards.  Now come expectations.  Then come the compromises that arrive with fame.  Without notice, you are living the type of life your musical was critical of, and now you may well risk losing the muse that inspired you to create music in the first place.

                Sure, these are simple scenarios, but they do reflect the winning and losing side of fame and the downside of remaining a cult act.   Robinson does bring light to the conflict and a few other realizations that add up to the fact that life on the road is never easy, and trust is a dicey concept when you are successful and everyone wants a piece of you.

                Conclusion

                Lisa Robinson’s tour through rock and roll from underground bars in New York to world tours, makes for fascinating reading if for no other reason that peering into the inner lives of successful musicians is always intriguing.  There Goes Gravity depends on the reader having that interest.  Flowing in and out of time, sometimes it becomes awkward going from one tour to the next awkwardly going in and out of sequence.  The repetition of some statements doesn’t help.  Also annoying are some rather clichéd lines that crop up from time to time.

                This is not a particularly poorly written book, but neither is it a particularly exciting one.  What should have been a world of wonder and ideas starts to seem rather pedestrian.  The biggest failing of the book is the failure to capture the personality of the musician in question. Too quickly the book feels like a fleeting note pad of meetings, conversations and events that don’t add up to much more than descriptions.  Minus any analysis, all that is left are descriptions.    The occasional biting comments help. The provide some change in rhythm.  A few stories of seedy activity or self-importance ruining an image supply some spark, but they cannot become a substitute for real insight.

                This is not a bad diversion.  It does open a door into a world few enter, and that is the main selling point of the book.  For an insider view, it should have been significantly more insightful and definitely more fascinating.

The Purge: Anarchy is a thriller that has a lot to say, and it is alarming

Social Criticism In A Major Motion Picture?

By: Kurt von Behrmann

The Purge:Anarchy Web Site

The Purge: Anarchy

If “Dawn of the Battle of Planet of the Apes” was a thinly veiled commentary on contemporary wars, “The Purge: Anarchy” is one on class conflict.  Carefully crafted between the carnage are acidic criticisms of the blatant hypocrisy of a society that openly extols the virtues of Christianity and democratic government while simultaneously engaging in barbarism.  The dichotomy between the “haves” and the “barely have anythings” is at the core of the movie and serves as a leitmotif that underscores the real rationale for “the purge.”

                The premise here is that for one day out of the year from 7:00 PM to 7:00 AM all crime is legal.  Murder, rape and theft are all permitted.  All public services are suspended until the “purge” ends. This includes hospital services.  The concept behind all of this “anything goes” violence is that it offers an outlet for frustrations that have been building up during the year.  Since its implementation this annual event has resulted in reduced crime rates, lower unemployment and an overall more stable society.  That is the official reason.  The reality is more sinister.

                A yearly cathartic for everyone as a guaranteed right as a U.S. citizen, one does have the option to participate or not.  Accepted as an inevitable stabilizer of society and a tool to eliminate undesirable actions, the purge is open to all, but not necessarily of equal benefit.  Proclaimed as an event that has positive results for all, it is an equalizer that places everyone on a level playing field.   Here is where rhetoric parts company with reality.

                The real purpose of the purge is to eliminate the poor.  It is nothing short of open class warfare.  Marketing this mass scale chaos to those with the most to lose, the government in this dystopia have succeeded in convincing the general public that this is not only for its own good, but a God given right. 

                Those able to afford it barricade themselves behind protective alarms systems.  The “uber” affluent live far enough away from the danger zone that they remain safe.  Those living at the poverty level in the inner city receive the brunt of the violence.  Their protection amounts to little more than locked doors and boarded up windows.  Downtown has become a battle ground.

                Not everyone is accepting the purge.  A group of dissenters realize what the actual objectives of it is, and they are willing to do something about it.  They are ready to fight back.  

                For those who benefit the most out of a nation where violence eliminates the poor and devastates the middle class, the super wealthy enjoy the security and rewards that their status gives freely.  They have so much that they transform purge night into a perverse form of entertainment. 

In what can only be described as viciously sadistic, the patrician class pays for victims to be brought to their mansions and murdered in the most violent manner possible.  Beneath the veneer of civilization and opulence resides a disturbed world where the weak are decimated and the very rich amused.  

The contrast between posh environments and unrestrained violence creates a disturbing tension.  As the economically advantaged luxuriate in the comforts affluence confers and all of its shameless sense of superiority and entitlement, the very things that create humanity in its highest form have been trashed in order to satisfy some very ugly frightening yearnings.  Nothing feeds an out of control ego as well as debasing those perceived as inferior.

Money is at the core of everything, along with power.  In this new America that “The Purge: Anarchy” has created, the ultra-affluent have turned the poor into procurers of the poor that are willing to sell out their own class for money.  In one scene we see our protagonists captured and thrown into a van thinking that their lives are going to end then and there.  We discover quickly that the down and out have been paid to find anyone on the streets and serve them up as entertainment for a crowd of the privileged. In a “Hunger Games” like game, the unarmed helpless are prey for armed opponents. 

The interesting connections that this film makes is that both the middle class and the disadvantage share more common ground than is often considered in the public arena.   A white police sergeant, an African-American waitress struggling to make ends meet, her daughter and a young middle class white couple are all of equal in value in this world.  None of them have any extra advantages.  What they in fact share is that they are little more than pawns to be played with and little more. Their lives mean nothing. What this film makes clear is that race is not so much of a divider as is class.  It is an idea not often explored in films, particularly in Hollywood where big spectacles are the rule.  To see it presented in a mainstream film is very edgy.  

Another element that this film handles rather well, and with chilling effect, is the love of not only violence, but of guns.  The imagery here is disturbing.  In one scene we see a woman wielding a very large gun on the edge of a building shooting anyone and everything below.  As she delights in her actions, she mentions how this is God’s will.  The connection between religious beliefs being closely connected to uncontrolled pointless violence is an alarming irony that makes a huge statement.  The criticism of a society that places such value on arms is on display.  It is not a pretty scene.

A particularly disturbing scene involves a society matron introducing freshly acquired victims to be killed for sport.  As she accepts bids to see who has the honor of gunning down the helpless, she described a particular weapon.  In detail she rhapsodies the virtues of a specific gun.  The disturbing image of a mature woman dressed well talking about guns with such warmth is an congruency that underscores the ridiculous nature of gun worship.  

Summer blockbusters are primarily entertainment.  Frequently, all too frequently, they are little more than insubstantial entertainment.  At their best they are harmless diversions.  When they hit rock bottom, as many do, you are subjected to lowest common denominator dripping in dreck nonsense that robs you of money and time.  

“The Purge: Anarchy” provides, thrills, drama and some engaging performances.  There are no weak links.  The big surprise here is that something is being said between the lines, and it is reflective of where we are as a nation politically and socially.  The issues that our society confronts are not given a space in the mainstream media.  Pop, fluff and not so subtle propaganda are have totally replaced serious discussions.  This is just what makes it so intriguing that a big spectacle film has more to say about inequity, class distinctions and open hypocrisy than what no passes for news.

An ominous line comes up when a character asks the question of when this will all end.  The answer is ominous and somewhat prophetic.   “This will end when it is their blood.”  I may not have the line totally accurate, but it does paint a picture of the future that is disturbingly accurate regarding what has historically been, and what potentially could be.