The title track of his 1988 album, This Note’s For You, offered no illusions as to how he felt about the growing corporate influence on music, with Young in a defiant mood: “Ain’t singing for Pepsi, ain’t singing for Coke/I don’t sing for nobody, makes me look like a joke.” To accompany the song’s single release, Young made a video that went further still – mocking advertising tropes (the smoky bar, stylized black-and-white perfume ads) and including Michael Jackson and Whitney Houston lookalikes, as a dig at some of the performers who’d taken the advertising dollar. It’s unsurprising, then, that he viewed the then-fledgling trend for musicians endorsing brands with some cynicism. Never one to pander to industry expectations, Neil Young spent his 80s wrongfooting even those who expected a certain contrariness from the singer-songwriter, releasing a string of albums that confused fans and led to his label suing him for making unrepresentative records. The controversial song ruled the airwaves, The Kinks had their biggest hit for years, and, presumably, Ray put his feet up for a bit. Davies boarded a plane back to the UK after a gig in Minnesota, had a go at the overdub, didn’t quite manage it so flew back for a gig in Chicago… after which he returned to London, where he finally nailed it. It was decided that Davies would replace the name of the offending drink with the more generic “cherry cola.” Unfortunately, The Kinks were on tour in the States at the time, and the master tapes were in the UK. The BBC’s strict product placement rules meant that “Lola” wasn’t played on the radio, hindering its chances of becoming a hit.
Despite detailing a coming-of-age moment in which the narrator is shocked – then accepting of – the subject of his boozy affection’s gender, the song was pulled up because of this offending lyric: “Where they drink champagne and it tastes just like Coca-Cola,” which mentions a specific product. Surprisingly, the reason that the BBC banned singer Ray Davies’ tale of ambiguous lust wasn’t the subject matter as such. Infamously, copies of the lyric were faxed by police forces from city to city ahead of the band’s tour dates, increasing hostility and making it difficult for venues to find security. The controversial song helped to cement NWA’s position as “The World’s Most Dangerous Group” and the record was banned from radio play, thus ramping up its notoriety. Nonviolent protest.” NWA’s response? The uncompromising “F_k Tha Police,” a lyrical tour de force that boldly called the authorities out, with no scrimping on the insults. According to Ice Cube, “It was just too much to bear, to be under that kind of occupying force, who was abusive. While most had no way of venting their frustrations (fewer than one percent of officers investigated over allegations of extreme force during the period were prosecuted), NWA had the power of music at their disposal. With the subtlety-named Operation Hammer, launched in 1987, the LAPD had declared war on gang violence and, by the following year, had arrested over 50,000 people.
NWA: F_k Tha Police (1988)įor young black men living in LA in the late 80s, police harassment was a fact of life. Sensing the industry had cheated them, McLaren and the Pistols organized another stunt: on June 7 they played a wild gig on a boat as it floated down the Thames River, past the Houses Of Parliament, sending the tabloids into meltdown and securing the Pistols’ notoriety. Yet, somehow, it didn’t hit the No.1 spot. Despite a ban from the BBC, the single flew off the shelves, selling 200,000 in its first week. The celebrations, however, got out of hand – so much so that the label wiped its hands of the group just four days later and destroyed most of the singles.Įnter Richard Branson and Virgin Records, who signed the Pistols on May 18 and decided to rush-release the song to coincide with the Queen’s anniversary bash. On March 10, the group signed a new contract with A&M Records outside Buckingham Palace, and 25,000 copies of their anti-establishment tirade were pressed up. With the Queen of England’s Silver Jubilee on the horizon, the Pistols and their manager, Malcolm McLaren, sensed an opportunity to capitalize. Back in 1977, however, things were very different, and the band – singer John Lydon in particular – found themselves at the center of a moral panic.
0 kommentar(er)
