SUNDAY LIFESTYLE Angela Mollard...Keys, Beyonce, Rihanna — ... etry in both lyrics and clip. Fine...
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18 Sunday Territorian. Sunday, February 9, 2014. www.sundayterritorian.com.au PUB: NT NEWS DATE: 9-FEB-2014 PAGE: 18 COLOR: C M Y K sundayterritorian.com.au Angela Mollard SUNDAY LIFESTYLE Email [email protected] Follow her on www.twitter.com/angelamollard Modern music is seriously lacking singers with heart John Legend is one of very few male contemporary artists who still seems to believe in love JOHN Legend is a daft name — I much prefer his real moniker, John Stephens. Or if he had to do that attention- seeking, headline- abbreviating, single-syllable thing (Lorde, Prince, Pink) I’d have gone with John. John’s a sound name. To be honest, I’m not even won over by his hit single All of Me — certainly it’s not up there with Percy Sledge’s soul-squeezing When a Man Loves a Woman or Eric Clap- ton’s enduringly romantic Wonderful Tonight. But something about John’s song (sorry, can’t wr- ite Legend with any serious- ness) has plucked at my heart. Both the video — a monochromatic, deeply inti- mate portrayal of his relation- ship with his wife — plus his performance at the Grammy Awards, where he stole glances at her — ‘‘you’re my end and my beginning’’ — feel like an unashamed, old-school, hand-written let- ter to love. Because I can’t remember the last time a man stood at a microphone or sat behind a piano and belted out a ballad to a woman he adores; when a straight, contemporary male artist had the confidence to stand up and sing, ‘‘I love you so much.’’ Sure, accuse me of retro sentimentality, of failing to get down with ghetto-speak (indeed, you must, if only on the grounds of my dubious fascination with Rod St- ewart). But I don’t want those power ballads for me — I have a whole back catalogue seared in my soul: Otis Redd- ing, U2, Robbie Williams, Bryan Adams, Hunters and Collectors — I will kiss you in four places. No, I want them for Gen Z and beyond because what the ’80s and ’90s lacked in fashion, they made up for with songs that took you from picnics to bars to bed to Sun- day mornings. Even books — Nick Hornby’s High Fidelity and, latterly, David Nicholls’ One Day — reinforced that it was OK for a song to seize your heart. Now it’s all about grabbing you in the groin — shocking, crude, ugly songs that seduce with a catchy melody but taunt with an offensive mess- age: ‘‘Are you up for this?’’ Robin Thicke is goading in Blurred Lines when he sings about trying to domesticate a woman but her being an ani- mal. Now Enrique Iglesias, the Artist Formerly Known As Heart-Melter, has come out with a vile piece of porn pop called I’m a Freak. The video clip reinvents the Hefner-esque pool party, com- plete with obligatory twerk- ing, near-naked women spanking each other, simu- lated sex, shot slamming and cream licking. This from a man who 13 years ago brought us the exquisite, tear- inducing Hero. I want to slap Iglesias — clearly not in the way he likes — but on behalf of my daugh- ters, who deserve better than this. The soundtrack of their youth increasingly comes from big fierce power ballad chicks — Pink, Adele, Alicia Keys, Beyonce, Rihanna — and a clutch of insipid men who clearly lack the balls to match them at it. As one mu- sic industry insider said to me this week: ‘‘Where’s the Sinatras, the Tom Joneses? Strong men who are so passionate they want to grab the woman they love, lead her on to the dance floor and sweep her off her feet. ‘‘Men need to step back up and reclaim the love song. It’s been hijacked by all the grungy, bearded, ukulele- strumming hipsters who for- get that the toughest thing about them is their tattoo. We need male artists to emote, to scream: ‘I f---ing love you’.’’ The gay community is well catered for. Macklemore’s Same Love was the anthem of 2013 and Mary Lambert’s She Keeps Me Warm was pure po- etry in both lyrics and clip. Fine if you like James Blunt (I recently attempted to reacquaint, fearing it was a case of Celine Dion syndrome but, no, he’s a whiny little git). And, sure, there’s plenty of room for alternative-cute — Paramore’s Still Into You is a sweetheart of a song. But as Valentine’s Day lurches round with heart- strewn stationery and flaccid flowers, we need some testosterone-fuelled love bal- lads, some hit-you-in-the- heart songs favoured by truc- kies and tradies and blokes who wear Blundstones, not Birkenstocks. Ballads are songs of the road; of heart, not head; of loving one woman, not the multiples favoured by Thicke and Iglesias and hip hop’s cretinous Lil’ Wayne. The ballad is the rugby union of rock; it’s about honour and tenderness and respect. It’s love making, not sex. As Sara Leonardi McGrath says — she phoned as I was writing — it’s about ‘‘emot- ional safety’’. She and hus- band Glenn played Islands in the Stream at their wedding. ‘‘It’s not about putting a ring on it or being needy,’’ she says. ‘‘It’s about allowing yourself to be a woman and putting your heart in some- one’s hands.’’ The feminist Camille Paglia reckons we’re neutering boys of their maleness, that ‘‘there’s no room for anything manly now’’. I disagree, but in the age of gender-neutralism we still need men singing majestic songs. Inspiration is plentiful. But if you’re keen and under 30, please, I beg you, give a wide berth to anything from Chris de Burgh. TERRITORY CHILDCARE GROUP INC. Murraya Childrens Centre 89271080 Bees Creek outside school hours and vacation care 8983 3290 Darwin Family Day Care 89200600 [email protected] www.territorychildcare.org.au think child care, think Territory Child Care
Transcript of SUNDAY LIFESTYLE Angela Mollard...Keys, Beyonce, Rihanna — ... etry in both lyrics and clip. Fine...
18 Sunday Territorian. Sunday, February 9, 2014. www.sundayterritorian.com.au
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sundayterritorian.com.au
Angela MollardSUNDAY LIFESTYLE ay
Email [email protected] Follow her on www.twitter.com/angelamollard
Modernmusic is seriouslylacking singerswith heart
John Legend is one of very few male contemporary artists who still seems to believe in love
JOHN Legend is a daft name— I much prefer his realmoniker, John Stephens. Orif he had to do that attention-seeking, headline-abbreviating, single-syllablething (Lorde, Prince, Pink) I’dhave gone with John. John’s asound name.
To be honest, I’m not evenwon over by his hit single Allof Me — certainly it’s not upthere with Percy Sledge’ssoul-squeezing When a ManLoves a Woman or Eric Clap-ton’s enduringly romanticWonderful Tonight.
But something aboutJohn’s song (sorry, can’t wr-ite Legend with any serious-ness) has plucked at myheart. Both the video — amonochromatic, deeply inti-mate portrayal of his relation-ship with his wife — plus hisperformance at the GrammyAwards, where he stoleglances at her — ‘‘you’remy end and my beginning’’— feel like an unashamed,old-school, hand-written let-ter to love.
Because I can’t rememberthe last time a man stood at amicrophone or sat behind apiano and belted out a balladto a woman he adores; when astraight, contemporary maleartist had the confidence tostand up and sing, ‘‘I love youso much.’’
Sure, accuse me of retrosentimentality, of failing toget down with ghetto-speak(indeed, you must, if only onthe grounds of my dubiousfascination with Rod St-ewart). But I don’t want thosepower ballads for me — I havea whole back catalogueseared in my soul: Otis Redd-ing, U2, Robbie Williams,Bryan Adams, Hunters andCollectors — I will kiss you infour places. No, I want themfor Gen Z and beyond becausewhat the ’80s and ’90s lacked
in fashion, they made up forwith songs that took you frompicnics to bars to bed to Sun-day mornings. Even books —Nick Hornby’s High Fidelityand, latterly, David Nicholls’One Day — reinforced that itwas OK for a song to seizeyour heart.
Now it’s all about grabbingyou in the groin — shocking,crude, ugly songs that seducewith a catchy melody buttaunt with an offensive mess-age: ‘‘Are you up for this?’’Robin Thicke is goading in
Blurred Lines when he singsabout trying to domesticate awoman but her being an ani-mal. Now Enrique Iglesias,the Artist Formerly KnownAs Heart-Melter, has comeout with a vile piece of pornpop called I’m a Freak. Thevideo clip reinvents theHefner-esque pool party, com-plete with obligatory twerk-ing, near-naked womenspanking each other, simu-lated sex, shot slamming andcream licking. This from aman who 13 years ago
brought us the exquisite, tear-inducing Hero.
I want to slap Iglesias —clearly not in the way he likes— but on behalf of my daugh-ters, who deserve better thanthis. The soundtrack of theiryouth increasingly comesfrom big fierce power balladchicks — Pink, Adele, AliciaKeys, Beyonce, Rihanna —and a clutch of insipid menwho clearly lack the balls tomatch them at it. As one mu-sic industry insider said tome this week: ‘‘Where’s the
Sinatras, the Tom Joneses?Strong men who are sopassionate they want to grabthe woman they love, lead heron to the dance floor andsweep her off her feet.
‘‘Men need to step back upand reclaim the love song. It’sbeen hijacked by all thegrungy, bearded, ukulele-strumming hipsters who for-get that the toughest thingabout them is their tattoo. Weneed male artists to emote, toscream: ‘I f---ing love you’.’’
The gay community is well
catered for. Macklemore’sSame Love was the anthem of2013 and Mary Lambert’s SheKeeps Me Warm was pure po-etry in both lyrics and clip.Fine if you like James Blunt (Irecently attempted toreacquaint, fearing it was acase of Celine Dion syndromebut, no, he’s a whiny littlegit). And, sure, there’s plentyof room for alternative-cute— Paramore’s Still Into You isa sweetheart of a song.
But as Valentine’s Daylurches round with heart-strewn stationery and flaccidflowers, we need sometestosterone-fuelled love bal-lads, some hit-you-in-the-heart songs favoured by truc-kies and tradies and blokeswho wear Blundstones, notBirkenstocks. Ballads aresongs of the road; of heart, nothead; of loving one woman,not the multiples favoured byThicke and Iglesias and hiphop’s cretinous Lil’ Wayne.The ballad is the rugby unionof rock; it’s about honour andtenderness and respect. It’slove making, not sex.
As Sara Leonardi McGrathsays — she phoned as I waswriting — it’s about ‘‘emot-ional safety’’. She and hus-band Glenn played Islands inthe Stream at their wedding.‘‘It’s not about putting a ringon it or being needy,’’ shesays. ‘‘It’s about allowingyourself to be a woman andputting your heart in some-one’s hands.’’
The feminist Camille Pagliareckons we’re neutering boysof their maleness, that ‘‘there’sno room for anything manlynow’’. I disagree, but in the ageof gender-neutralism we stillneed men singing majesticsongs. Inspiration is plentiful.But if you’re keen and under30, please, I beg you, give awide berth to anything fromChris de Burgh.
TERRITORY CHILDCARE GROUP INC.
Murraya Childrens Centre 89271080
Bees Creek outside school hours and vacation care 8983 3290
Darwin Family Day Care 89200600
www.territorychildcare.org.au
think child care,think Territory Child Care
