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Archives
Looking back |
Nostalgia...it sounds like a chronic ailment, something relieved by over-the-counter curatives. "Take two compilations for fast, temporary relief of inflammation of the memory due to sudden onset of middle-age." Actually, what most people often refer to as nostalgia is in truth, revivalism. In order to experience nostalgia, a person must have a first-hand memory of the original. Revivalism on the other hand, is the mining of the past for appealing cultural artifacts. I think I can imagine how strange it felt for my parents to witness the first of several go-rounds of '50s revivalism in which I participated. There I was in 1973, blue jeans rolled at the ankles, t-shirt with fake cigarettes rolled up into the sleeve, hair slicked back with baby oil, and heading for a "fifties" dance at school. Our picture of the '50s was less than two-dimensional. We knew about a dozen songs -- "Maybeline," "Rock Around the Clock," "Jailhouse Rock" and a few others. We had no sense of context. We'd seen "American Graffiti." That was it. Later, in the early '80s, I'd already become deeply immersed in the music of Gene Vincent, Carl Perkins, Johnny Burnette and the Rock and Roll Trio and others when a full-on Rockabilly revival caught fire. The high water mark of this revival was the chart-topping success of the Stray Cats. I found myself at more than one Cats show in 1982 in black jeans, engineer boots, bowling shirt and motorcycle jacket. I wasn't alone, and we were as ridiculous a cartoon show and those Tokyo rockabillies you see in the travel documentaries. We strutted and danced with ourselves. It was a costume party. Brian Setzer's exceptional guitar playing saved the musical moment, but even though I now knew about Joe McCarthy, Lenny Bruce, Milton Berle and Alfred Kinsey, I allowed no sense context to complicate my party. So now here I am, watching the '70s in the merciless hands of '90s youth and it's truly an odd experience. I see now that nostalgia isn't merely revivalism -- it is reductionism. All contexts are complex, and complexity interferes with marketing. The '70s were much better and much worse than the culture-bites that I see on display. '70s revivalism can be tracked as a marketing effort by following the product delivered by three industries -- music, film and television, and fashion. There's not too much to say about fashion other than the real thing wasn't as simple as the Brady Bunch or as lurid as the glossy disco polyester that pollutes the department stores right now. Where are the cowl-neck sweaters and painter's pants? Where are the Earth shoes and waffle-stompers? The current wave of '70s-inspired films is interesting. While the Hollywood version of anything is just that -- Hollywood's version, what's different now is that when filmmakers in the '70s wanted to depict youth of the '50s, they had nothing to go on in film history. In the '50's and even until the late '60s, any film that depicted youth culture was made either to exploit the youth audience or was made for an adult audience. There were no films like The Lords of Flatbush made in the '50s. Only Rebel Without a Cause came close. This isn't so of the '70s. Plenty of films portrayed the youth of the '70s realistically. Check out Foxes, featuring Jodie Foster for one good example. Of the '90s films that depict the '70s, only Richard Linklater's Dazed and Confused and Spike Lee's Crooklyn are recognizable to me. I can't help but wonder but where is the '90s equivalent of Happy Days. The renewed interest in the music of the '70s presents a serious dilemma. When you examine the music from that decade in depth, you'll see that any narrow preconception of '70s music completely falls apart. It's not just disco, or pop. Watching Dazed and Confused, which incidentally does not feature the song "Dazed and Confused," I get a pretty accurate hit on what was coming out of teenage car 8-tracks in the summer of '76. But even that's a really narrow sampling. The film's soundtrack leans pretty heavily in one direction -- toward rock songs with real male appeal. After all, in May of '76 when the film takes place, "Silly Love Songs" by Wings reached number one twice. To get a feel for the full diversity of '70s pop music, the stuff ignored by classic rock and oldies stations, I recommend Rhino Record's series Super Hits of the '70s, Have a Nice Day -- all 25 volumes. The series, released between 1990 and 1996, includes 300 mostly forgotten or unfamiliar chart singles, depending on your age. You might know "Mississippi Queen" by Mountain, but you need to get to get acquainted with simple little gems like Wadsworth Mansion's "Sweet Mary" and "Timothy" by the Buoys. You'll get a chance to learn to tolerate such '70s radio schlock as Coven's "One Tin Soldier" and cheese whiz like Leo Sayer's "Long Tall Glasses." If you make it through Sammy Davis JR's "Candyman" or Clint Holmes' "Playground In My Mind," you're made of sterner stuff than I am. Someday, without a doubt, I'll have the pleasure of seeing the youth of the next century dress in hip-hop, grunge and skate wear and scare the hell out of their parents. And they'll have no concept of Celine Dion. This is my last column for JAMtv. It's been a great experience. I can be reached at newman@buftom.com.
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