All works of art, high and low, betray a multitude of echoes of works that came before -- and in extraordinary cases, after -- them. In this series I'm gonna take an item up for sale over at the store and outline some of the echoes I perceive in it. Any facet of the release (the music, lyrics, production style, cover art, etc) are fair game for echo-mining. Some will be straightforward and obvious and some will be oblique or non sequitur-like; either way each will be presented with a minimum of commentary or justification (but I'll be right so don't test me). Here it goes.
I copped this 12" in a thrift store in New Mexico a few years ago. You might have heard this or King's bigger hit "Love & Pride," but this is my favorite joint of theirs. I don't think they got too big outside of the UK but either way these dropped in 1984, a year before I was born so I have little memory of them. This track is an example of my favorite sort of 80's New Wave (and Electro Funk for that matter) track, the apocalyptic banger. The apocalyptic banger is as consumed with the anxieties of the time as it is with a body-moving, dance floor-burning beat: fatalistic, realistic, and escapist all at the same time.
(Also, this joint has one of the illest synth-fills ever. Theres a retarded extended solo in this live performance that shreds. You gotta sit through the ballad first.)
Echo 2: Herb Ritts' Nood Doodz WARNING: THIS ECHO MIGHT BE NSFH (not safe for homophobes)
OK RELAX and just be glad I didn't post any of the man on man action or full-frontal shots like I could have (those available at Ritts' Home Page or do a google). Herb Ritts was a black and white glamor photographer who shot everyone from Dizzy Gillespie to Jack Nicholson to Cindy Crawford. He is also known for his statuesque portraits of oily nudes heavily inspired by Greek sculpture (and certain other Greek pastimes).
Echo 3: Strange Days
When I saw the cover for the Hypercommunication 12" my mind first went to Ritts' photos (although, admittedly there's very little that doesn't send these images to my mind), and then immediately went to this cover. On this note I also spent last Saturday night watching movies on cable. After Devil's Advocate I caught the 1995 Cyberpunk flick that shares its name with this album and stars an often nude Juliette Lewis, a muscley, karate-trained Angela Basset, and British hack Ralph Fiennes. It's pretty F'ing sick, not least of all because it was released in '95 and set only five years down the road on New Year's Eve 1999, but those intervening five years apparently brought more technological innovation than the preceding fifty, as well as an Escape from New York-ish apocalyptic bedlam to LA (sort of like Escape from LA, released a year later). Also involved in the plot: illegal virtual reality headsets, snuff porn, and did I mention slutty nude Juliette Lewis in her prime? So ill.
