The Politically Correct Paradox

Let's talk about political correctness. It's been on my mind, lately. It seems to me that accusations hurled at someone for being PC have become, like Samuel Johnson said of patriotism, the last refuge of a scoundrel.
Let me explain. There is a difference between "being PC" and "simple human decency." Context and intent mean something (and if you don't know their meanings, look them up now. There are a bazillion online dictionaries. Not knowing what a word means in this day and age is inexcusable). Is a person using music or a painting or a novel or jokes to make a point ABOUT offensive things and enlighten their audience or is a person actually saying offensive things to bully others or to inflict pain upon an entire group of people and to encourage others to do the same?
Amy Shumer tells a funny joke ABOUT how people view Hispanic men and some people lose their shit and scream "RACISM."
Donald Trump says the majority of Mexicans coming across the border are rapists and some people cheer and think he would make a good president.
Now, I would say that the people who made those accusations against Shumer are "being too PC." There is a community of folks on the far left that are just as censorious and humorless as the those on the far right. The flip-side of this is, if you accuse Trump of racism, he and his supporters will counter with the same "too PC" argument.
And this is where we are. We have taken something (PC) which started out as "Hey, show a little decency and sensitivity" and turned it into, on left, "Hey, you can't even TALK about that," and, on the right, "Hey, I'm gonna say whatever I want and if someone calls 'bullshit' I'm gonna shut them down by calling them PC."
What started out as a way to talk about and treat other with dignity and respect has turned into white people asking why they can't say ni**er anymore and being held up as champions of the First Amendment.
If you say offensive things for the sake of being offensive, you're not a rebel. You're an asshole. And throwing out the whole, "I'm just telling it like it is and if you don't like it you're just a politically correct wuss," does NOT insulate you from criticism or build a wall around you that deflects people from calling you on your bullshit.
You are free to say whatever you want. You are not free from the consequences of that speech. Artists control the things they create, but they can't control the audience's reaction to their creation. As a comedian, I like to see how far I can go with a joke, without completely losing my audience and having them turn on me. It's like walking through the Fire Swamp. Sometimes, I'm gonna get burned (its always your own fault if you get offended, though [joke]). At the end of the day, though, shouldn't we all be more offended by what's really happening in the world around us, instead of by the people who comment on those things through art? Shouldn't we hold the people who want to lead our country to a higher standard than a comic telling dick jokes to a roomful of people drunk on half-price margaritas?

It's Complicated

Life is complex.

The above sentence scares the shit out of some people. Oh, sure, there are simple things contained within life's complexities. As I'm typing this, Ed, the newest feline member of our family is right on the other side of the laptop, doing flips while trying to catch her tail. It is absolutely simple and absolutely great (and a pretty good metaphor for what writers spend most of their time doing). People want simple solutions, simple answers, simple entertainment. By the way, that last sentence totally explains why Adam Sandler is a multimillionaire.

 There are many things in life that are definitely NOT simple, although people try to force simplicity upon them. That's where we get into trouble. That's where cognitive dissonance takes hold. Cognitive dissonance is defined as the mental stress or discomfort felt by an individual who holds two or more contradictory beliefs at the same time, or is confronted by new information that conflicts with existing beliefs, ideas, or values. Put simply, it's feeling the enjoyment that comes from smoking a cigarette, while at the same time knowing that it's bad for you and can eventually kill you. It's also a great way to explain Young Earth Creationism. Folks don't want to take the time or use the brain power it takes to reconcile their sincerely held belief in Biblical truth with hundreds of years of contradictory scientific study, evidence, and facts. It's easier to buy a ticket to the Creation Museum and believe penguins from Antarctica made the trek to the Middle East at the behest of a 900-year-old drunk before the great flood, kangaroos floated on logs to Australia after the flood, and Jesus rode a dinosaur. And if you want to believe that...fine. However, to quote Neil Degrasse Tyson, "I don't have an issue with what you do in the church, but I'm going to be up in your face if you're going to knock on my science classroom and tell me they've got to teach what you're teaching in your Sunday school. Because that's when we're going to fight."

We look at our increasingly complex world and want to apply the simplest solutions. Immigration can be solved with a wall. More guns=less crime. Putting the Bible in schools will magically solve all the problems facing young people (personally, I think we need to give the Bible a chance to stop all the molestation in the church, before we start passing them out during homeroom). Teen pregnancy? Teach abstinence exclusively. Remember when Bristol Palin toured schools across the country as an advocate for abstinence WHILE SHE WAS PREGNANT OUT OF WEDLOCK? What a hoot. Teaching "abstinence only" to teenagers is like standing in front of millions of years of evolution (or 6,000 for you creationists) and instinct and our species' built in desire to procreate and puberty and hormones and the availability of Marvin Gaye's music (fuck you, I'm old) and saying...don't.

We want simple solutions to the increasing divide between the wealthy and everyone else in this country. Let's see...your tax money is going to pay for roads in Afghanistan, to pay for drones that indiscriminately murder, not only their targets, but anyone who just happens to be near them, even children, to pay back the massive debt we owe to Japan and China, to pay the six trillion, T-R-I-L-L-I-O-N, dollar price tag for our war in Iraq, to buy the weapons that we sold in the Middle East to our "allies" that are now in the hands of ISIS, to pick up the slack from the tax breaks we give to the wealthiest people, to fund the bailout of the banks that tanked forty percent of the world's wealth (and not one person went to jail over this), to pay our representatives, OUR representatives in OUR government, who bend over to suck the dicks of the aforementioned wealthiest, faster than any prostitute in the history of sucking dicks and leave their asses stuck in OUR faces...but, hey, let's get pissed off about that poor person who gets government assistance or food stamps, because I CAN SEE THEM AND THEY HAVE THE NERVE TO BUY FOOD IN FRONT OF ME AND THEY HAVE A CAR AND THEY HAVE A CELL PHONE AND THEY ARE A PERFECT WAY FOR ME TO AVOID LOOKING AT THE REAL PROBLEMS IN THIS COUNTRY BECAUSE HATRED IS EASY AND SIMPLE AND IF IT WEREN'T FOR THEM MY LIFE WOULD INSTANTLY GET BETTER AND A RAINBOW WOULD SHOOT OUT OF MY ASS AND I'D RIDE A UNICORN RIGHT UP THAT MULTI-COLORED ARCHWAY TO HEAVEN AND RIDE A DINOSAUR WITH JESUS!

What was I talking about?

Oh yeah, life is complex. Appreciate the simple pleasures in life. Just don't expect them to solve all of our problems.

The Return of Government Cheese

August 1987. I'm fresh off the boat, er, fresh out of my Mom's car at Western Kentucky University. I'm here as a college freshman. I chose WKU because they accepted me and my C average without blinking. I'm a theatre major. You wouldn't need all of the fingers on one hand to count the number of times I've gotten laid. I'm away from home and on my own for the first time and I don't know shit about shit. I'm convinced that listening to The Smiths makes me "edgy." For some reason, I wear bolo ties and fedoras. I'm really bummed by the fact that I've successfully completed 12 years of school and have a diploma to show for it and here I am facing at least another four years of homework and studying. I just want a beer. I want to play with titties. I want to be irresponsible. One day, a friend in the theatre department says, "Hey! You wanna go to the Cheese show tonight?" That was where my college education truly began.
Bowling Green, Kentucky in the late 80's was my first exposure to a "local music scene." I may be biased, but I think ours was pretty fucking sweet. Government Cheese were our punk rock ambassadors for that music scene. When I got to WKU, their "C'mon Back to Bowling Green" EP had just been released. I bought it on cassette after that first show. It's hard to describe how much I loved that damn cassette. I was always a music kid. I bought my first 45 when I was four years old ("I Shot the Sheriff" by Clapton, in case you were wondering). I followed the bands I loved, religiously. The Cheese were a different animal. You could drink a beer with them after a show. They would talk to you. They went to the same parties I did. They were OURS. I spent one drunken night at a party doing Bobcat Goldthwait impressions with Skot Willis. This inspired in my 18 year old self a whole new level of devotion to a band.
That devotion only increased when, at some point during my freshman year, the Bowling Green city council changed the legal age to get into a club from 18 to 21. Before, if you were under 21, you could still get in the club, but you had a wristband that identified you as someone who was legally prohibited from imbibing. This was a huge blow to my career as a fledgling alcoholic. The first Cheese show after the ordinance passed, if I remember correctly, was a viewing party at Picasso's for the debut of their "Face to Face" video (which would go on to air on MTV). I showed up and stood in line, but had zero hopes of actually getting in. I thought perhaps I could just invisibly slide past the bouncer. The fact that I was wearing a bolo tie and a fedora would have made this highly unlikely. I was about three people away from the door, shaking and trembling in fear of being discovered, when Tommy Womack appeared like an angel in a blinding light akin to what St. Paul must have seen on the road to Damascus. He grabbed me by the arm, told the bouncer, "He's with me," and pulled me into the club. For an 18 year old kid from Princeton, Kentucky who fancied fedoras and thought The Cure was "deep", that kind of selfless gesture will inspire a devotion that boarders on religious fanaticism. So, for the next few years of their existence, I sacrificed my innocence and sobriety on the pagan altar of Government Cheese.
A Cheese show was LOUD, sweaty, brazen, anarchic, and just plain right. It was rock and roll as it was meant to be: dangerous with a chance of bodily harm. At some shows, audience and band would be locked in a symbiotic frenzy together, only to simultaneously collapse in a heap at the end like we had just experienced an orgy that would have put the Romans to shame. That's not to say that human decency didn't prevail at times. One of my fondest memories is a show where my glasses were knocked from my face and into the throng. Somehow, Beth Tucker(now Womack) saw this happen and, somehow, found them on the floor and rescued them for me. Beth Tucker is a wizard.
I still, to this day, listen to Government Cheese. The songs fucking hold up. If you have never heard "I Wanna Be a Man" "Nothing Feels Good" "Yellow Cling Peaches" "I Can't Make You Love Me"  "My Old Kentucky Home" or "Camping on Acid" then you need to find them and listen to them. It's some of the purest punk rock to ever come out of the south. If you can't hear the genius in a lyric like, "I know your career is important to you, but my liver is precious to me..." then you don't understand rock and roll.
This weekend, I'll be doing something I never thought I would do again. I'm going to a Government Cheese show and I'm taking my young bride-to-be, Adrian. It'll be her first exposure to The Cheese. Maybe it's true that you can't go home again, but I can at least show her the house where I had some of the greatest times of my life. Tommy, Skot, Billy Mack, Joe Elvis, and Viva...thanks for making my younger years more awesome than they had any right to be. I'll see you Saturday night.

See Government Cheese Saturday night, August 23rd at the Mercy Lounge in Nashville, TN. Tickets are on sale now.

It's More Than Just a Bad Mood, Dammit

   12 years ago my day consisted of an anti-depressant/anti-psychotic medication cocktail, three times a day, and all I did, besides let my dog out every few hours, was sit on my couch, stare at the TV and drool on myself. That's what depression looks like. I spent a few years like that. There was no, "just decide to get over it." Gee, that heart disease is really bringing us all down and making it hard to be around you, what do you say you just get over it? See how ridiculous that sounds?    If there is anything good that can come out of the death of one of my heroes, Robin Williams, it's that maybe, just fucking maybe, a few more people will understand that depression is a disease and not a mood. Everybody has bad days. Everybody gets sad. That's called being human. However, not everyone has clutched a bottle of pills, or put a rope around their necks, or held a razor blade to their wrist, or put a gun to their head and tried to think of ONE REASON to take one more breath and failed. Wake the fuck up. These are not the actions of a rational being. It's a broken mind. Trust me, your brain can break just like a bone. The chemicals in your brain can fuck you up just as much as fluid in your lungs. It's a physical fucking ailment. STOP telling people to cheer up. Listen to them and try to get them to see a doctor.
   If I sound angry, it's because I'm fucking angry. I'm heart broken and goddamn furious. If I could, I would punch Robin Williams in the face and ask him if he understands what this will do to his wife, his children, his friends, and, according to things I'm seeing posted on social media, everybody in the world who was touched by or moved to laughter by one of the myriad creative gifts he gave us. I know what it's like. I've sat with a loaded gun in my mouth and thought that everyone I cared about would be better off if I was dead. I was wrong, of course. In that moment, though...you just want the pain to stop. Depression is a demon that will eat the flesh off your bones and show you a slide show of every bad decision, every humiliation, every hurt, every embarrassment, and every mistake you've ever made while it's eating you alive. It is as ruthless as cancer.
   Performers are a strange lot...comedians in particular. Almost every artist I've ever known, was tortured to some degree( the good ones, anyway ). Most of them get depressed. Sure, we're self-involved. We can be overly dramatic. We like to take our demons out and play with them. Some of us turn them into songs. Some turn them into books. Some paint. Some of us tell jokes about them. An article I read earlier by David Wong said it better than I can, about what makes comedians tick:
   "Every time they make a joke around you, they're doing it because they instinctively and reflexively think that's what they need to do to make you like them. They're afraid that the moment the laughter stops, all that's left is that gross, awkward kid everyone hated on the playground."
   Most of our jokes come from very personal and very painful places. They are a defense mechanism. They are also how we make you like us. It's this whole "push-pull" dynamic. I love it when I'm doing stand-up and I say something that offends and shocks the audience and then whip out a punchline that makes them laugh at something they were just offended by a second ago. I am a disturbed individual. I want to control and play an audience like a piano. I want to make you lose control and laugh, even when you don't want to. For most people, family and friends are enough. Performers need that extra affirmation from complete strangers to feel validated. Why do you think I'm writing this? My fiance', Adrian, is aware of this. She will tell you that I am no day at the beach to live with sometimes. She's a singer and actress, though...so there you go.
   Ask yourself a question: "Do the people that I care about, know that they can come to me if they're depressed, or do they think that I wouldn't take them seriously or call them weak if they did?" We have got to get rid of this notion that depressed people can just snap out of it or that they are weak and just brought this on themselves. You wouldn't scream at a person suffering from a stroke to pull yourself together and to stop doing this to yourself, would you? Let people know you're there. Validate their existence. Let them know that you want and need them to be a part of this fucked up existence. Give somebody a reason to laugh and to keep on breathing. Make sure artists know how their writing, their painting, their singing, their jokes, their performances have affected you and that you appreciate them. We don't perform in a vacuum.
   Robin Williams left behind an amazing body of work. If forced to choose, I'll take "The Fisher King" as the one that speaks to me the most. I can't believe that he's gone. The powerful play will go on without him. Please, don't stop before you've completed YOUR verse. I love you guys.

" You find some wonderful things in the trash." - Parry, from The Fisher King
 
   

All You Need is Empathy

“Imagination is not only the uniquely human capacity to envision that which is not, and, therefore, the foundation of all invention and innovation. In its arguably most transformative and revelatory capacity, it is the power that enables us to empathize with humans whose experiences we have never shared.” 
― J.K. Rowling

   Burt Bacharach said that love what the world needs now. The Beatles said love was all you need. Patty Smyth said that sometimes love just ain't enough. You know what? Patty's right. Religions, civic organizations, poets, Oprah, pop music, hippies, cults, philosophers, prophets, artists, and your mom, have all been telling us since the dawn of time to love each other. It's not working. The world is still a hate-filled shit hole on a bad day and utterly indifferent on a good day. It ain't from lack of love. We love OUR families. We love OUR friends. We love OUR churches. We love OUR kind of music. We love OUR candidates. We love OUR country. We even love OUR hatred. You disagree? If people didn't get something out of hating others, then why would they continue to hate? These days, it's a lot easier to get a group of people together based on what they hate or what they're against or what they fear. Love is a real and necessary emotion, but I think what we need more these days is empathy. It's not lack of love making life suck, it's lack of empathy.
   Empathy: simply the act of seeing the world through someone else's eyes and trying understand how they feel. Look at those grown-ass people in Murietta, California holding signs and screaming at children. Now, just for a sec, put your political feelings about immigration aside. These were ADULTS...SCREAMING INSULTS...AT CHILDREN. If they had just made a conscious effort to look through the eyes of those kids, or to remember what it was like to be a kid and how intimidating and scary adults can be, maybe they would have reconsidered. Maybe not. The point is, you're less likely to hate someone(especially a child) if you put yourself in their shoes. You might never agree with them, but you might not be sent into rabid hatred at the mere sight of them.
   One thing that I have learned in my 44 years of life on this planet: Intelligent and creative people, tend to have more empathy than ignorant people. Dumb people hate more and are afraid of more than smart people. I think the comment threads on a lot of Facebook posts prove that point. Readers, in particular, seem to have more empathy for others. Here's why: Reading forces you to empathize. You are literally putting the thoughts and feelings of another person in your brain. Why do you think so many books have been banned throughout history. Those who oppose and fear change or hate those who are different or whose livelihoods depend on you staying uneducated and not thinking for yourself, have never stopped trying to keep the "wrong" books out of the hands of the "wrong" people. Ray Bradbury said, "“You don't have to burn books to destroy a culture. Just get people to stop reading them.” 
   You want to make the world a better place? Start by reading books. And not just books that reaffirm what you already know or that bolster opinions you already have. Read books that will challenge you and your beliefs. Books are magic. You can see through the eyes of the dead. You can visit every country on the planet. You can travel to places that don't exist. When you start reading a lot, a funny thing happens. You start looking at different people differently. Empathy will start to creep into your worldview. You start to look at things from different angles instead of just having the same knee-jerk reaction that you've always had.
   And THAT is what scares those in power more than anything. They want you to take their word for everything, whether it's a preacher, a politician, or anyone whose way of life depends on us never challenging what they want us to believe.  Take my favorite dip-shit of the week, Brandon Smith-R, state legislator from Kentucky. When he says that it's a proven fact that Mars and Earth share the same temperature in an attempt to prove his belief that burning coal doesn't contribute to climate change, he's counting on us to be stupid. It shows the contempt that he has for his constituents. He doesn't want people to take fifteen seconds to Google the temperature of Mars. While you're Googling that, you might also discover that Brandon owns coal mines. Shocking! People will say they want a book banned for all kinds of reasons. Profanity! Sex! Violence! Blasphemy! We need to protect the children! Don't be fooled. The main reason books are banned is because someone is afraid of the IDEAS contained in the book. "If my child reads THAT book they might not hate the gays like I do!" 
   Books create and foster empathy. There can be no real love without real empathy. You want to stick your nose into other people's lives? Stick your nose in a book.
   
   

A Hard Day's Night and the Need for Joy

"It is one of the great life-affirming landmarks of the movies." - Roger Ebert

"They were my first favorite group." - An adorable little six-year-old girl after the screening yesterday

   The Beatles, I dare say, are the only rock band, over the age of 50, still capable of inspiring such love and devotion in a six-year-old. There will simply never be another cultural phenomenon like them. Their impact and originality was such, that, much like "The Simpsons" are to animated TV shows(as "South Park" taught us), there are very few things you can do musically without the statement, "Beatles did it!" That being said, I have friends who have grown to actively despise The Beatles due to over-familiarity. I understand that feeling. I don't feel that way about The Beatles, however, there are other bands, who, through no fault of their own, have inspired hatred in me whenever I'm forced to listen to them. I could live the rest of my life without hearing "Sweet Home Alabama" or "Stairway To Heaven" or anything by Boston or Journey. (Full-disclosure: I used to be a "classic rock" DJ, so that probably has a lot to do with it. Or it's just a consequence of growing up white in 'Merica where all of the above are forced down your throat, repeatedly, like Flintstone's vitamins.) I've never felt that way about The Beatles, though(As I read once in a book about the history of rock and roll, "Not liking them is as perverse as not liking the sun.") I get it if you do. I have to ask, though...if you do, why are you still reading?

   My fiance', Adrian, and I saw the 4K restoration of "A Hard Day's Night" at the Belcourt theater in Nashville yesterday. It was the first time I saw it on the big screen. It was quite an experience. The picture quality was so insanely good that, in the final musical performances, you could see individual beads of sweat on Lennon's face. The new sound mix, by Giles Martin(son of Beatles producer, George Martin), has an immediacy to it that makes the sound of the screaming fans all-encompassing and disorienting at times. The music has never sounded better and they had the sound cranked at the theater. 

   The movie itself is one of the greatest ever made, I think. It is the cinematic equivalent of pure JOY. Directed by Richard Lester and filmed by Gilbert Taylor(who would later be DP on "Star Wars"...just sayin') the film broke new ground with it's use of hand-held camera work and editing. Every movie about music that followed borrowed it's techniques. It created a new cinematic language. All this, from a relatively low-budget film that was made to cash in on the worldwide success of The Beatles. The Fab Four weren't just another "pop group", though. They didn't want their name on anything "dead grotty." The screenplay, by Alun Owen, gave the guys a lot of funny one-liners, however, when filming began and the makers saw how naturally funny they were, more lines were written. Apart from the music, the movie is essentially a comedy and every single Beatle shows a remarkable gift for comic timing and dry, sarcastic wit. Seriously, if that whole "music" thing hadn't have worked out, they could have gone into sketch comedy. Lennon's "I declare this bridge...open" gag got a huge laugh in the theater.

   Other highlights: George's scene with the trendy TV producer("...when she's on, you turn the sound down and say rude things."). Ringo's parading scene. Paul at the press conference("...we're just good friends"). The cleanliness of Paul's grandfather. Lennon playing with boats in the tub. The "Can't Buy Me Love" sequence. Every single song on the soundtrack.

   I mentioned "joy" earlier. The film captures how it feels to be young and how it feels to have "fun" be your number one motivation for anything. I was born five years after the film was released, so I can't speak from experience, but I'm willing to bet that when kids of the period saw it, their perception changed a little bit. Don't forget, The Beatles were controversial for everything from their music to their haircuts. Rock and roll still wasn't considered "real music" at the time. Imagine being told by your parents or preacher or any authority figure that The Beatles were evil and rock music was evil and it was almost "satanic" in it's perversity. Then, you go see this movie and you see the truth and you smile all the way through it and it captures exactly how you feel about life and legitimizes all of those thoughts you've had that you were told were "bad" and you walk out of the theater and you see the world through new eyes and just maybe, for the first time in your life you start to realize that, not always, but sometimes Mom, Dad, the schoolteacher, and the preacher on Sunday morning are full of shit. 

   As I sat in the theater, holding my fiance's hand and letting the movie wash over me, I started to cry. The tears were a mixture of joy and sadness. Joy for how perfect a work of art this film is and how great the songs are and how lucky I was to be sitting there and experiencing it with the woman I love. Sadness because John and George are no longer with us and because I knew the innocence and fun that the film represents gives way to adulthood and age. The Beatles grew up and broke apart. The '60's ended in death and destruction. We get older and life throws things at us with the chaotic ferocity of a madman. Thanks to movies like "A Hard Day's Night", we can return and remember what it was like to be young and filled with joy and as long as we can return to that, then there still might be hope for us.

 

HAVE YOU BEEN A GOOD BOY? Elvis Costello Touches Himself and Everybody Else

NOTE: The following is the first in a series I'm writing about my favorite albums. I'll get back to my greatest movies, eventually...no, really...I promise. Oh, and for the musically geeky who are reading this, I'm using the original British version of the album with the running order by Costello, himself, before Columbia fucked with it for it's American version.

   "This Year's Model" is an album I know front to back, top to bottom. It's been a part of my life for years. I'm still not burned out on it. It's Elvis Costello's second album and his first with The Attractions. The cover shows Costello behind a camera as a photographer that would make anyone feel uncomfortable as they were posing. There's plenty on the album to make you uncomfortable, as well. That's not really surprising, when you consider that one of the main things the album is about is masturbation. Not just your run-of-the-mill pocket pull, though. Costello uses jerking off almost as a political statement, as a way to keep all of the hurt and pain that the world and other people bring at bay. 

   Don't believe me? The first song is called "No Action" and the opening line (just Costello's voice, no music) is, "I don't want to kiss you. I don't wanna touch." Listen to the way he draws out the word "touch" until it's dripping with disgust and derision and the Attractions literally explode like an orgasm behind him. From that point on, Costello plays the part of the nerdy, intellectual asshole who only acts that way because of how badly he's been hurt in the past and that "I'm smarter than you and I don't give a shit about anything" attitude is the armor that protects him. (I know that guy REALLY well...maybe too well.) Another line from "No Action" is very telling, "...then the things in my HEAD start hurting my mind." An ordinary songwriter would probably say "heart" instead of "head" in that lyric. Not Elvis. "You might mess with my brain, but you'll NEVER touch my heart," he's saying. It's bullshit, of course, but image over substance is another great theme of "Model."

   Next up is "This Year's Girl." It's one of the most disturbing songs ever written about the woman as sex symbol. Every year offers up another actress/super model/porn star that becomes the national object of desire and what do we use those women for, guys? Yep. We do. Costello lays bare, in brutal detail, the effects of dehumanizing another human being for selfish and sexual gratification. "You want her broken with her mouth wide open, 'cause she's this year's girl," is an ugly, but honest lyric. The song is totally against the objectification it portrays and holds up a mirror to all of us and says, "Those are real people underneath those media images." 

   Feeling guilty? Good! You're now ready for the  first absolute masterpiece on the album, "The Beat." (masturbation, again? But of course!) It's a song about guilt, paranoia, oral sex, sexual panic, peer pressure, and, yes, masturbation. It captures all of this in three minutes and forty-five seconds. "On the beat, 'til a man comes along and he say's, 'Have you been a good boy, never played with your toy? Though you never enjoy, it's such a pleasure to employ.'" Is there anybody reading this who didn't feel guilty about playing with themselves when they were first starting out? No? Didn't think so. This song captures that feeling like none I've heard before or since. The Attractions provide the perfect soundscape for the words. Nice and relaxed on the verses and hard and driving on the chorus. Pete Thomas' drums and Bruce Thomas' bass gallop and chug through the choruses, while Steve Nieve's keyboards both carry and comment on the melody. The song reaches it's climax when Costello admits, "I don't wanna be your lover. I just wanna be your victim." He says "lover" the way some people would say "liver" and says "victim " like it's a synonym for "hero." We've all been there, whether we want to admit it or not. We all went through that adolescent stage where getting your heart broken was a brave and romantic thing to strive for, so we could wallow in all our misery and angst and write bad poetry. Some people carry it over into adulthood. Some people make a career out of it. Hello, Morrisey. Feeling down, today? (Let me state, for the record, that I am, in fact, a huge fan of The Smiths.) Anyway, "The Beat" perfectly encapsulates that feeling when authority tells you that you're too young for sex and, oh, by the way, touching yourself is a sin and you should be ashamed.

   "Pump It Up" announces itself with a pumping drumbeat and bass riff, before launching into some kind of batshit organ/guitar figure that is the aural equivalent of the dance that Crispin Glover does in "Friday the 13th Part Four: The Final Chapter." It's one of Costello's most well-known and best songs and he still performs it live to this day. Best Line: "No use wishing now for any other sin." Foiled again. No action. Might as well go home and pump it up.

   Next up is the almost-but-not-quite country song, "Little Triggers," followed by the headlong rush that is "You Belong To Me." The latter has one of the most disquieting images for oral sex in the history of songs that have words about blow jobs: "Your eyes are absent. You mouth is silent, pumping like a fire hydrant. The things you see are getting hard to swallow." The narrator of the song is, again, trying to make us think he's above all of this relationship stuff. "I don't want anybody saying, 'You belong to me.'" Hey, when they won't let you into the club, stand outside and make fun of the club.

   "Hand in Hand" "(I Don't Want To Go To) Chelsea" "Lip Service" and "Living in Paradise" are all great songs, ("Chelsea's" guitar riff is one Costello's best and "Paradise's" drunk almost-reggae and lyrics about voyeuristic jealousy are highlights. "You think that I don't know the boy that you're touching, but I'll be at the video and I will be watching," from "Paradise" is both incredibly creepy and furthers the theme of watching life instead participating in it) but I want to move on to the second absolute masterpiece on the album and it's best song. "Lipstick Vogue" presents us with the same sensitive jerk from all of the preceding songs, but now he has actually fallen in love with a real person and she's breaking his heart. It reminds me of the lyrics from Costello's "(The Angels Wanna Wear My) Red Shoes." "I said, 'I'm so happy, I could die.' She said, 'Drop dead,' then left with another guy." "Lipstick Vogue" motors by like a freight train. The Attractions play like furious fucking demons. The song begins with Costello pleading with his partner, "Don't say you love if it's just a rumor. Don't say a word if there is any doubt." He has finally let someone into his heart and not just his head and that person is beginning to question their feelings for him. "Sometimes I think that love is just a tumor and you've got to cut it out," is the next line. You can avoid feelings all you want, but when you let your guard down and actually give in to those feelings and open yourself up to another person, instead of staying alone and fantasizing, it takes fucking surgery to let those feelings go and it always gets bloody and messy. The lyric, "Sometimes I almost feel just like a human being," sums up everything that is great about this album and Costello's songwriting. In the chorus he cries, "It's YOU! Not just another mouth in a lipstick vogue." I fell in love with YOU. I don't want any of those other girls, the real ones or the ones in the magazines. I just want YOU. "Maybe they told you you were only a girl in a million.You say I got no feelings, well this is a good way to kill them." The asshole who claimed to never have any feelings is paying the price for the choices he made. His past is biting him in the ass. He's feeling way too human, now. I suggest when you listen to this song, you turn it up LOUD.

   The album closes with the purely political, "Night Rally." At first, it might seem that this fascist nightmare of a song is out of place on an album that is all about relationship politics. I think what Costello is saying, ultimately, is that the people who are dictatorial in their personal relationships are going to be dictatorial in their political views, as well. It's a warning. Let your lovers rule over and intimidate you and you'll let authority do the same thing. Also, even though the album was released in 1978, I can't listen to this song without picturing modern day Tea Party rallies. "Everybody's singing with their hands on their hearts about deeds done in the darkest hours" and "...the corporation logo is flashing on and off in the sky" and "You think they're so dumb, you think they're so funny, wait until they've got you running to the night rally." Politics and relationships are scary as hell. Do we take the chance and get involved with them? Or do we just stay home and...well, you know.