Pete Doherty songwriting interview 2007

PETE DOHERTY - THE LOST BOY

by Simon Goddard

Q Magazine, september 2007

Equal parts self-mythologising waster and Byronic romantic, Pete Doherty is the most influential British songwriter of the past five years. Arriving with the Libertines in 2002, he juxtaposed William Blake-esque visions of Albion with 21st-century squalor, reclaiming British guitar music and paving the way for everyone from Razorlight to Arctic Monkeys.

Today, Doherty fronts Babyshambles and his private life is a tabloid soap opera. The day before Q interviewed him, news broke that he'd ended his on-off relationship with supermodel Kate Moss and was living in a caravan beneath a dual carriageway. But today, Thursday 5 July 2007, it's business as usual: business being a secret Babyshambles show in North London pub The Boogaloo. He arrives a mere two hours late, carrying a guitar, a beautiful young girl with a dark bobbed haircut in tow. He immediately stalks over to greet barely alive Pogues singer Shane McGowan, the Boogaloo's resident barfly who's already fallen off his stool twice this afternoon, before disappearing to the flat upstairs. Five minutes later, Q is invited to join him in a cramped living room. The mystery girl is also there. She smiles but says nothing, even after I introduce myself. Doherty, meanwhile, falls over an armchair trying to close the curtains, presumably lest prying paparazzi snap him. He eventually settles, trilby hat on, a salection of necklaces swinging atop a black shirt. What looks like a plastic elephan earring bobs beside his neck whenever he moves. His fingers are grubby, his left hand wrapped in black gaffer tape. His skin is blotchy and clammy. His eyes are wide, pupils like dinner plates. His voice is so feeble, at times it's like talking to an asthmatic on a ventilator.

What was the first song you ever wrote?

Honestly? It's dead embarassing. Billy The Hamster.

How old were you?

Twenty-one (smiles). No, about 12. I just wrote it in my head.

About a real hamster called Billy?

No, I wasn't allowed one. I think I was promised a hamster, so I went and bought the cage and the sawdust and all the things, hoping that they'd get the hint and buy me a hamster. By the time they did, I was a bit old. And anyway, its name was Reindeer.

Was that when you realised that you could write songs?

Er... (bats eyelids vacantly) dunno.

When did you start playing guitar then?

I picked up guitar quite late. About 16 or 17. I just hammered away at it fow two or three years, not really getting anywhere. Then I bumped into Carl (Barat). Just sat at his feet, gobsmacked. Just taking it in and drawing on that, really.

What point did you start to think you were any good?

Maybe when I was getting the same feeling from things that I wrote that I was getting from other people's songs. Albion. When I wrote Albion, probably.

Do you write every day?

I dunno if I write well every day, but I write every day. I have to. Normally I just flick on one of these things (points to Q's dictaphone) or a laptop.Just playing and playing and then a month or two later I'll listen back to what I've done and think, "Fucking hell. There's something in there somewhere".

Your songs don't come fully formed then?

Not always. Sometimes they can gestate for years.

What about lyrics - is it a case of grabbing a pen and writing on anything when the moment strikes?

Yeah. Me leg's been covered in biro many a time (rolls up trouser leg revealing pale, hairy skin but no biro). But I'm quite precious about my writing. Like, I've got scrap and things... (gets up and scrambles over to retrieve a notebook from his satchel, then sits back down and opens a book at page with a couple of spider scrawls) This started with me going (sings a cappella) "Torn torn torn torn. Torn torn torn torn" (stops singing) That's all I had for ages and then... (grabs guitar from side of chair and proceeds to sing and strum) "Torn torn torn torn. Da dee, dah dah" (stops playing). And then I'll play it to somebody and say, "Hey, listen to it's an old Velvet Underground song". I pretend someone else has written it. And then I go, (resumes singing) "Torn torn torn torn / Torn torn torn torn / Torn between two lives / La la la... (membles something about a ghost ship) Torn, da dee dah dah".

Is environment important when writing?

You think it's important at the time. You think, "This place is dull, I gotta get outta here". And then you look back and think, "Actually that was the right place to be".

Like prison?

Well, that was ideal because there was nothing else to do. Literally, it's just you and a pen and paper.

Is songwriting a catharsis for all the chaos in your life?

A lot of the songs I haven't used, or tend to get embarassed by, I'd say were, but I think my most successful songs are ones that are pure fiction, really. Taking a small idea from reality and telling a story. That's when people get paranoid and say "Why did you write that? That's about me". I'd say "No, no, no. It's just a song". My famous last words. "It's just a song and it's not about anyone".

So you've written some songs so personal that you've chosen to hide them?

I wouldn't say hide, I just don't think the outside world has anything to gain by them.

Do you live your songs or sing your life?

Well, take What A Waster. Line by line, verse by verse, every line of that began to ring true over time. But when I first wrote it I was a clean-living lad, to be honest.

It became a self-fulfilling prophecy?

Completely, yeah.

Are drugs a help or a hindrance to you as a songwriter?

I'd sayd drugs are an alternative to songwriting. It's something else to do rather than playing guitar. Sit down and have a pipe instead. It's not conductive to concentrating and playing and singing.

So whenever you write, you're always straight?

Erm... it's not really a conscious thing. But I tend to not get a lot done when I'm battered.

Does it bother you that the tabloid circus surrounding you continually detracts from your works as a songwriter?

It would worry me if I thought about it. But I can't afford to think about it. I care an awful lot about what people think about my songs, but I'm not interested in their opinions of me personally.

Audience reaction is important to you?

It started off as the be all and end all of songwriting. Wanting to find the audience and crave it. For a long time it was such a pipe dream. It seemed there was no way in the world we were ever going to get a crowd. And then we reached a point where the crowd were singing the songs back to us and it became to be all and end all again. Like "I can't wait to play this song to a crowd". There's nothing worse that when people say to me, "Oh I really liked what you used to do, what you're doing now is alright". But I know I wouldn't carry on writing unless I could maintain standards.

You've not peaked yet?

No, I'd say the record that's coming out this year (Babyshambles' second album) has got the best songs I've ever written.

It's five years since the Libertines' debut...

Is it? (eyes widen). Fucking hell.

...and since then bands like Arctic Monkeys and The View have followed. Are you aware how influential you've been?

I dunno... (frowns) Arctic Monkeys are quite special. I don't see too much of the Libertines in them. I think they'd have along anyway. I've had to swallow my ego and admits they're a good band.

Can you communicate better though song than you can in real life?

(Still talking about Arctic Monkeys) That's a comment on them as songwriters not as people. Cos they wouldn't let us stand by the side of the stage and watch them at Glastonbury.

As I was saying, can you communicate better through song than you can in real life?

Yeah. That's the only way I can communicate successfully. Like you can say to a girl, "Can I kiss you?" and she'll say "Well, no". But maybe in two and a half minutes (she'll see) what's come from inside. Although it's drawn, and it might be fictional, it's not really false, if you know what mean? It's not like someone might hear a song and say, "I wanna kiss that person because they wrote that song". But you never know There might be be someone out there (like that).

So songwriting is your means of finding love?

Hmm... (grimace) I thought so, but really the one or two people that I thought I was in love with, they've never really been big fans of my music. In a way it's good because you know that they're not with you just because they like your music, but it's sad. Everything you do at a certain time in your life, no matter what the song's about, all the energy is really directed towards that one person. Whatever that was for Carl. Or for Kate. Or for someone else I fell in love with.

Kate didn't actually like your songs?

No. It was always a bit of a choker.

Is sadness a good muse?

Even if I'm feeling blank or not particualrly feeling happy or sad, suddenly a song will come out and it'll suddenly occur to me that's how I really feel. It's better than any therapy or any conversation. You just hit something on the head and it captures a mood. Like Well I Wonder by the Smiths. I used to put that on, especially the 7-inch (it was the b-side of How Soon Is Now) where you'd hear all the crackles and then the drumbeat and then... (starts to hum Well I Wonder). Just that mood.

Your new song, The Lost Art Of Murder. Was that inspired by George Orwell's Decline Of The English Murder?

Yeah, yeah! (eyes popping out of his head) Fuck! That's what I meant to call it but I couldn't remember the Orwellian bent on it.

Literature is still a big influence on your songs?

Yeah. Titles are almost the be all and end all of the song. I've got reams and reams of scribbled titles that have never been used. I'm always checking them. 32nd Of December, I had that as a title for so long. It's had so many shapes and sizes and curlies. I could have a whole album of 32nd Of Decembers.

What's the perfect song?

It all depends on the time of the day and what you're wearing.

Right now, what song would that be?

We'll Meet Again (adopts barmy Irish accent). You can never fail with the G to the D7, now.

Do you know the Number 1 song on 12 March 1979, when you were born?

I do. I Will Survive (by Gloria Gaynor).

Is it fitting?

(Shrugs, smiles)

How long do you think you'll continue writing?

As long as the person you want to kiss doesn't want to kiss you , then there's always room for another song. I'm not trying to kiss you, by the way. But you've got quite nice teeth.

Thanks.

You've gone red, mate.

Would you be happy if your gravestone read simply, "Pete Doherty, Songwriter"?

That's just a fantasy, though?

It might happen.

I dunno. That is fantasy stuff. I'd love that. It's like a craft, songwriting. Medieval. Traditional. It'd be the ultimate accolade.

So, what's your secret?

Er... (stares at the ceiling) Being lost. Gettng lost and then not being able to ask the way. As my nan always used to say, "As long as you've got that (grabs his tongue), then you can't get lost".

Our chat ends when Doherty is summoned to start his soundcheck in the bar below. Before going, he shakes my hand and asks if I'll write something in his notebook. I agree on condition he scribbles something in mine. We swap notebooks. In his, I draw a set of dentures, sign my name and add, "Not such nice teeth, really". An hour later, long after we've said goodbye, I finally check what he's written. It begins with a quote from another Smiths song, Rubber Ring. "Don't forget the songs that made you cry... that line always made me well up. Love, Pete".

Charles Manson & his Brainwashing - 1970 Berkeley Barb magazine

 

Dr. David Smith on the Family in the Berkeley Barb 1970 - Vol. 10 No. 2 Issue 231. Jan. 16-22, 1970 Page 3

LIFE WITH MANSON

Charles Manson and his "family" were in the Haight half a year after the Death of Hippie. They left in the Spring of 1968 and moved south close to the scene of the murders with which they are charged. A Haight clinic researcher, Alan Rose, followed them. Rose lived for four months with the Manson family on the "Spahn Movie Ranch," where they spent a year operating a riding stable-- and doing various other things-- after leaving the Haight. In an exclusive interview with Dr. David E. Smith, founder of the Haight Ashbury Free Clinic, BARB got some insights into the personality of the accused slayers of actress Sharon Tate and four others. Dr. Smith told BARB Charlie and other members of the "Manson family"-- mostly young girls-- came to the clinic in April and May 1968 for "general medical things, not drug related problems or psychiatric counseling."

RARE DATA

But the rare "group marriage" sexual scene the Manson family was into attracted the clinical interest of Dr. Smith and Rose, then administrator of the clinic. They were concerned with the health problems that crop up in different types of communal living, and the Manson family was one of the few they'd run across the practiced all-out sexual communism. From that study and their experiences at the Clinic, came a scholarly paper on the group marriage commune to be published this spring in the Journal of Psychedelic Drugs.

WARNING

And coming as a by-product of their study is a warning to people who dig taking other people's trips: your friendly local guru just might be an incredibly persuasive schizophrenic with destructive paranoid delusions, and not a mystic at all. BARB interviewed Dr. Smith Wednesday night for clarification of certain points brought out in the study report-- circulated in typescript-- and received permission to use some of the information it contains prior to its publication. "He, (Charlie) was an extroverted, persuasive individual and served as an absolute ruler of this group marriage commune.  What he approved was approved by the rest of the group.  What he disapproved was forbidden," the report says.

NO BOOKS

The commune at this time consisted of about 20 core members, 14 of them women, plus several visiting "cousins." Three had some college education, one even had a masters degree, but education was "indoctrination" to Manson, and one of his chief tasks was to undo the "brainwashing" society had done on his mainly middle-class charges. Manson "felt that getting rid of sexual inhibitions would free people from most of their other inhibitions and problems," the report said. "Most of the group had refuted the financial and material possession orientation of their families with relative ease. The 'sexual orientation' was not that easy."

INITIATION

The researcher reported how Manson went about the process of reorientation: (Charlie) set himself up as "initiator of new females" into the commune. He would spend most of their first day making love to them, as he wanted to see if they were just on a "sex trip", or whether they were seriously interested in joining the family. He would spend a great deal of time talking with them finding out, as he put it, "where their heads were at." An unwillingness, for example, to engage in mutual oral-genital contact was cause for immediate expulsion, for he felt that this was one of the most important indications as to whether or not the girl would be willing to give up her sexual inhibitions.

DISCIPLINE

The study touches on methods of disciplining family members and prospects who did not shape up. These included refusal to have sex with anyone who was not changing fast enough, and as a sterner measure, a "long talk" technique. "This form would involve two or three partners in the commune approaching the individual in question and asking "Why are you here? What do you want from us? If we asked you to hitchhike to New York and stay there for awhile, would you do it? "If the answer to the last question was yes, and the individual still did not go, he would usually be asked to leave and stay away until he went through sufficient "changes."

THE REJECTS

People usually left "involuntarily" at the insistence of the family..." Those that stayed found the struggle for food-- which they termed an "adventure"-- to be one of the main preoccupations of the daily round. They would rummage through grocery store garbage bins during food forays to town. Other than that, bread came in the form of contributions from new members or gifts of money, food, and clothing from more affluent "cousins." The group stayed in condemned ranch buildings in return for managing the stable of riding horses, the ranch's sole source of income.

KID CULT

The group wasn't into eastern religion or drugs, but the simple daily round of work, lovemaking, casual dope-sacramental use of smoking, and scrounging tied in with Manson's thing about children, the report indicated. There were several kids on the commune. "The child was always the center of attraction and went everywhere the group did. The child was viewed as the one to emulate and follow as he was considered untainted by society. (Manson) used the words of Jesus: "he who is like the small child shall reap rewards of heaven,' to guide their family and child rearing philosophy," the report stated.

INTERVIEW

Primarily concerned with health issues, the report did not devote extensive attention to the other problems raised by this and similar communal arrangements. So BARB sought and received a few additional insights from Dr. Smith. Dr. Smith said, "The problem was that Charlie was disturbed. He developed a paranoid delusional system that led to violence, it wasn't a drug thing. "When we studied them there was no violence, but there is a fairly fine line between mysticism and schizophrenia. Every commune we studied that has survived has had a spiritual leader that has nothing but positive visions this wouldn't happen.

GOD'S WORD

"Charlie had a lot of good things about him, he said a lot of mystical things that appealed to the girls, but he also had a lot of serious problems in the area of paranoid delusions, and everything he said was God's word to the girls. "If you totally accept someone you lose your ability to discriminate between the good things and the bad things.  If you know schizophrenics, you know how persuasive they can get, and if you are an adolescent in turmoil who is searching for a guru, you can be easily convinced." Dr. Smith continued:  "This is one of the things that worries us at the clinic.  People can't surrender all individual control to higher authority, they still have to be able to think for themselves."

WHAT'S REALISM?

"...I think there are certain things anyone should be aware of. like what kind of grasp on reality the leader has, how he apprehends reality, but the girls always say 'What is reality.'' "What Charlie did, the main thing, was the sex thing and the infant consciousness.  They put a tremendous emphasis on that, saying the ideal is the infant.  What they are really saying is any socialization is bad and the individual should reject it. "Then what he did was substitute his own philosophy.

CRUCIAL TEST

"The crucial thing to look for is how in touch with reality the leader is, and, secondly, whether his vision runs counter to what you intuitively know is destructive.  If people would think in terms of what is constructive and what is destructive behavior, not what is conventional or not... "So many groups don't develop an individual ethic, just a group ethic, and they aren't much better off than if they stuck with the straight society they are rejecting.  They just go from one group ethic to another group ethic...

HIP MAGNET

"Unfortunately, a very large number of guys like Charlie are running around.  They seem to be attracted to the hip subculture with its freedom and acceptance.  Fortunately, not many of them are as persuasive as Charlie, and they don't end up in positions of power... "There are a lot of people like that, and many of them are in mental hospitals.  Any individual who has an all-encompassing delusional system that has all the answers is very persuasive to an adolescent who is searching for a substitute father figure." BARB asked if the girls in Manson's family were any different in any way.

GIRL PROBLEM

"No, that's the dangerous thing, there are hundreds of thousands of adolescent girls in turmoil that are looking for answers, and if they get hooked up with a guy like that, they are in trouble.  They must analyze their behavior to determine what is constructive and what is destructive.  I'm concerned with the great deal of group conformity that exists in the hip movement," said the 30-year old doctor.  "It's suppose to be the antithesis of conformity." "I think communes can be a very positive and meaningful way of life but only if the participants in the movement think for themselves," he concluded.

Symbolism of 'The Wizard Of Oz' - The Greatest Movie Ever Made

'The Happiest Movie Ever Made' is how The Wizard of Oz was originally advertised in 1939. Totems, symbols and motifs from The Wizard Of Oz have been regurgitated into so many movies by directors such as John Waters, David Lynch, Guillermo del Toro, and now new filmmakers such as underground director Fabrizio Federico. This classic fantasy film has enbedded its self into the encompassing cinematic language for all time, and has become ubiquitous with pop cultures lexicon, and a paradigm of perfect cinema. Dorothys look of wonder when she sees Oz has been embedded into every childs psyche, and gives off an apex of feeling that tugs at the audiences heartstrings. The journey and lessons of this film are universal, such as, whether to grow up or be a kid forever, but also realizing that by growing up change can be a beautiful thing. But because we have all seen the Wizard Of Oz as kids (especially filmmakers) in a sense we are all either subconsciously living or making the story of the film (if you're a movie director) because it lives rent free in our minds. Even its darkness has touched us deeply. We re-explore, re-investigate, re-contextualize, re-everything about this classic movie. Looking to the past while also looking to the future. Some have said that all that happens in the film is the characters are ''just walking'', but that is the films greatest message, to move forward. In the field of relativity the trick is to find your way home, while wearing ruby red shoes, ''There's no place like home'' indeed. 

One of the films most similar to Oz is 'It's A Wonderful Life', they share the same story, beats, the same trajectory, and they were both flops. The films start off with the main character wanting to explore and see the world, but by the end they just want to go back, to go home. Oz is the quintessential fary tale movie. Welcome to the world of movies. Even 'O Brother Where Art Thou?' (2000) steals from Oz, i.e the scene when Clooney and his gang watch as the KKK hold a wizard ceremony, in Oz their gang watches the guards march around the courtyard and then they both sneak down in disguises. Or how the screen goes from sepia to colour in 'A Matter Of Life & Death' (1946) like a candy coloured world. Or how in the middle of certain movies the main character will suddenly start to sing a song, i.e Nicholas Cage singing Elvis in 'Wild At Heart'. Or how the symbolism of the red shoes and curtains crop up in 'Twin Peaks' & 'Blue Velvet'. Consciousness and transcendence are at the heart of every David Lynch film, and he embodys Oz more than any other filmmaker, but Oz has many acolytes. 

At the base source of thought is this consciousness. Even Dorothy, she transcends and goes to this other world called Oz, where she finds herself and her power. Same thing happens to Neo in 'The Matrix'. Trauma sends them on a journey to find stability. In her case surviving a near death experience from a tornado.

Even the use of wind in the film is symbolic. The winds of change. It defines the whole film. When the house finally lands on the wicked witch the soundtrack finally goes silent for the first time and it clears the palette for the audience. Then we hear those human voices replicating the sound of wind. Wind equals mystery, ''put more wind into the performance'' Lynch would tell his actors. Rooms filled with the sound of wind. Wind will put you somewhere new. It will send you somewhere beautiful but you need to watch your back, like a flower filled with poison in it. Dont take things at surface value. Like when the apple trees come alive  and grabs Dorothy, theres violence below the surface. Oz is actually quite violent. Dorothy enters Oz by killing the Wicked Witch of the East, and later she melts the Wicked Witch of the West. The message is nothing should be taken for granted, and nothing is what it is. Theres a deep truth inside all of us to be 100% awake. Also that you should move through the world like a child with a complete lack of cynicism like Dorothy. When people are kind she's greatful and when they arent she calls them mean. Mainly she is curious and adventures cant be planned, and with the right attitude she is victorious, the way life shoul trully be. 

Curtains are another reacuring symbol. They are a gateway to magic, like in movie theatres or with magicians, so when you see a curtain you know its not going to be real life, but fantasy time. Curtains are welcoming because they are easy to pull open, but once you see behind the curtain the secret is gone, the craft has been exposed. Nothing can live up to it, its top secret. Lynch uses Oz as a symbol and a movie arc. Like when the fairy in her bubble comes down in 'Wild At Heart', or when you seen the evil mother dress as the wicked witch on a broom stick, it give it a parallel and shorthand for a feeling he wants to communicate, and you know their motivations, almost as a shortcut to thinking because you've seen it already in Oz. It's a shared language and it shakes your hand. Even 'Back To The Future's' story resembles Oz, like how Michael J Fox meets his dopplegangers from his past. Its because 'The Wizard Of Oz' is a very sturdy cinematic template for basing a story on, many life lessons can be attached to it. Marty even comes back to the present having changed his future life. But danger and harmony can co-exist. 

Dreams. In these films when you cross over thats where the danger lies. You meet the dark characters who drag you through hell, then returns to their family knowing new worldly things after having liberated the people that they met on the dark side of the tracks. An innocent character moving between different worlds, like how 'The Elephant Man' goes from circus folk to the upper class. Finding your own Kansas and its kindness. Oz inspires and allows and helps parse out a filmmakers story, to tie in particular elements of a films trajectory. New worlds and new sensations is what an audience wants to experience and see, dragged into a hell against our wishes, like Neo in 'The Matrix' or when Forrest Gump is sent to Vietnam, and 'Lord Of The Rings', but you must return safe to your home. In dreamland you can have multiple faces and avatars, be playing different characters like they do in Oz, which is a great metaphor for a dream world. The fish out of water, like Axel Foley in 'Beverly Hills Cop', he learns some lessons and that theres less difference than you might think at first glance, and then he goes back home. Extending yourself beyond your comfort level. Or 'Crocodile Dundee', 'Star Wars' & 'Splash'. 

In the film 'The Miracle Worker' (1962) theres a dinner table sequence, which is both comical, horrifying and a little sad. But as a contrast it is dreamy. Then theres the scene when Annie watches Helen through the window and has a flash back to her days at a school for the blind, and Arthur Penn uses a double exposure dissolve that lasts a long time. But Lynch does it all the time to evoke ghosts from the past, and you cant tell which layer of reality they are in. We see that in Oz when the Lion and Scarecrow are in the field of poppies and the good fairy appears as a double exposure over them. It evokes a nostalgia for a perfect world or a world from the past that only existed in your mind. Oz has baked its self into many filmmakers subconsciousness. Oz is basically the story of a girl who moves between parallel worlds, simulation theory too. But which world is the real one? Even in 'Nightmare in Elm Street', and 'Mullholand Drive', certain characters influence can travel between worlds. Dreams can come true and then it can become a nightmare, a marble prison, like death. Which reality will you land in? Strangeness can cross into reality. Strange timings baked to the bones of certain scenarios. 

Transcendental Meditation is a technique to experience a thought in its most infant states of development until the conscious mind taps the source of topic. A thought moves so it has energy to make it move, and due to intelligence it takes a direction. So the source of thought needs to be clensed. Concentrate on a word without meaning (mantra) transfer the attention to a thought without content. Concentrate on the sound of the word. The source of the energy. As the mind goes deeper into the subtle levels of thought the breathing becomes less, as ur body enters into a lower field of activity, one breaths less. TM takes the mind from the surface level of thinking to the inner field of being and explores the foundation of life.

Being is the basis of thinking, and thinking is the basis if action.

In Oz another aspect that has become standard fare is the villain. In this case the Wicked Witch of the West. The director is a puppet master and the villain is always one of the fav puppets, they are better characters, they have cooler costumes, you just remember them. Examples such as Captain Hook, Cinderella's step mom, the girl from The Bad Seed. Margaret Hamilton embodied the witch and gave her a campy evilness, she even signed her autographs WWW. Even the scene where the Wizard demands for Dorothy to bring back the witches broomstick, for in exchange a reward, has been copied in other films. Loyalty to the King/Queen will grant you your requests. Plus theres the Munchkins who make up the little weird town, even that has been copied in other movies, such as 'The Outsiders' and the 'canteen scene' in 'Star Wars'. Its a familiar movie structure and motif. Oz cliches are all over John Waters movies too. He even made a short film called 'Dorothy The Kansas City Pothead' (1968) and in 'Mondo Trasho' (1969) his main character clicks their shoes three times, then disappears. In his films the villains are the judgemental parents, jocks, and the stuck up rich snobs, but the cool characters are the loose girls, the weirdos, and the outside greasers. The moral of his stories is ''mind your own busines.'' Turn and exaggerate what people use against you, turn it into a style, and win! John Waters practically uses this theme in every one of his movies, usually set in the 1950's surrounded by judgemental, conformist parents and neighbours. People just want to feel at home. The land of Oz is a very disorienting place to live. Lynch even said ''I love, writing, editing and filming. But then you release the movie and thats when the heartbreak begins.'' 

Oz is very elliptically shaped in some ways. The structure and idea within the consciousness of a character, a dreamscape given a narrative life. Which in this case is two thirds of the film. Every character is always searching, dreaming and hoping. All the best characters do. Finding the best version, the most capable, loving and hopeful of themselves. We learn best about a character not from their reality but their dreams. But making movies in Hollywood is about staying in the game, and sometimes that means seeing your true vision die on the editing room floor. Lip syncing is also a reacuring element we see in many of these directors movies, and it stems from Oz. Even the close up's of the actors makeup, such as the Witch, Lion etc... theatrical artifice. Lynch does this the most. Then you realize that the conscious courage that the character has is expressed in their willingness to keep opening doors they shouldn't be opening. Spying and going to strange addresses, in the process they invite terror & chaos into their lives just like Dorothy does. Its the mystery that attracts them. The quotidian narrative trope of the detective is applied. Detectives of the metaphysical mysteries or cosmic, in some cases, to their peril. Thats what Dorothy is, with her dog and basket, being asked to go on this insane journey by the Wizard. Follow the Yellow Brick Road. Its the only way to go home. Its part of the American conciousness. Oz is the foundational text for all these filmmakers. Oz gives filmmakers the permission to think so big and wild, kind of like using the film as a Bible, you go back to it in order to consult the Bible of cinema, a foundational text. Theres so many films braided with gestures and moments taken from Oz, burned into your unconscious minds. Once you see certain images they are etched forever into your psyche, in your DNA. Keep singing infront of curtains, singing like a torch singer. But the meta story beyond Oz is the story of Judy Garland, her brilliance, greatness and the tragedy of her life. The story outside of the story is just as influential. Possibilities that died. You start off all naive & 'golly gee' but then mature and see the dark side of life. A central instinct to the best films is to see the multitudes of a character, how they can evolve and surprise us. There is so much more to all of us. To find the courage to go home, like Dorothy, to face our fears. She was frightened but her gang (Tin Man, Scarecrow and Cowardly Lion) had her back. In the end she becomes THE hero. Its an optimistic film. But we all have each one of those characters in us (cowardly, brave, optimist), including the sham Wizard. 

Many directors have used the formula and the vernacular of 'the heroes journey' to tell their stories. Esentially the story of Oz, when the Wicked Witch melts or they want to meet the Wizard. Even the iconic ''Im Melting!" Has been copied. Oz touches on every genre possible like action, musical, comedy, sxi-fi, horror and drama. Even The Big Lebowsky copies Oz, including the cast of magical characters who give him secret knowledge that they always had inside of them. Suspiria is very Oz like, including Pans Labyrinth & The Devils Backbone, with their lead characters dreamjng of escaping their dull existence. Even After Hours by Scorsese borrows these dream like scenarios, where tasks need to be completed in order to succeed at life. Apocalypse Now has an Oz theme too, he goes on a mystical journey, meets a load of strange weirdos so he csn essencially find an evil wizard. The monolithic, all knowing, powerful Colonel Kurtz which everyone speaks abouth with reverance and fear, but this time hes both the wizard and the witch. The references are the cultural real estate of The Wizard Of Oz that belong in the publics consciousness. Theres a cultural currency to using certain universal Americana images from the past, like a post-modern popular surrealist. 

Lynch is the king at weaving the visual and auditory language, the thematic and story language of Oz into his own work. He honours Oz and admires how the film allows us to dream in a cosmic way, talking to us in a deep way. In his film Wild At Heart you feel that Oz exists in the cannon and mythology of its world and they use it as the ideal of their own lives which they can never achieve. Oz also plays with counterparts & polorization i.e good vs bad, black & white vs technicolour, dream vs reality, good witch vs bad witch. Even the relationship between Dorothy & Judy Garland is highly analogous to heaven & hell. The American dream vs the American nightmare. Theres references to Dorothy & Judy all over Lynch's films, even her surname Garland is referenced. Judy is never found. Judy Garland even famously said in an interview ''I wanted and I tries my damnedest...to believe in the rainbow that I tried to get over and I couldnt! So what!?" 

A funny thing about Oz is how it reverts back to sepia at the end, in a way telling us to stop dreaming and accept life as it is. To stop chasing the rainbow. A movie can give us a vivid perspective of the world around us, or take us to another world and then bring us back home. Each time we watch a movie we are transported. Make peace with a way to exist with the world as it is, like in Spirited Away or Peter Pan. The very concept of never growing up isnt as its cracked up to be, you have to be ready to grow up, a world where the rules do apply. The fantasy of no rules isnt as its cracked up to be. Beauty & The Beast has the same message, so in a way these films are revealing to kids that the disappointments and discimforts are necessary in order to function in the world apprechiate it. You dont have to leave that feeling behind though. Growing up can be just as magical through change. Oz is a fairy tale with bursts of happiness and a jolly ending, but the layers that can be extrapolated from it are vast. As a child you take it as face value, as a teenager your more cynical if you watch it, and then later you view it as a piece of history, that it might have not been a happy production. Look how the Pink Floyd 'Dark Side Of The Moon' myth and the dead dwarf became another strange angle to Oz, a shadow world to the happy myth. Everything goes hand in hand.

We look for darkness in perfection. The whole world family can see themselves in The Wizard Of Oz, just look up at the sky with a look of wonder to achieve an emotional apex as we work our way towards a crescendo of life tounderstand what matters to you. Look to the future.

 

Mick Jagger & The Magic Of His Charisma

Please allow him to introduce himself. He’s a man of wealth and taste. The essence of Mick Jagger is all here in his six-minute epic 'Sympathy For The Devil'. His madman bravado. His seductive sneer. His androgynous glimmer. His satanic majesty. The way he cackles, “Mmmmmean it!” That conga beat. That “hoo-hoo” chant. The way he whoops along with Keith’s out-of-nowhere guitar solo. But most of all, the way he keeps daring you to chase him through that funhouse of mirrors he has for a soul, trying to figure him out, trying to hang a name on him, trying to guess the nature of his game. This song sums up why he’s the most elusive and unknowable of rock stars. But it also sums up why he’s the one who’s kept the whole world obsessed for all these years. Pleased to meet you. Hope you guessed his name. 

And, as Peter Whitehead revealed in a 1994 interview, the Stones’ front man primed him to expect action at the Royal Albert Hall. “Mick said, ‘I’ll tell you when I’ll get the girls up on stage.’ After a couple of songs, he turned around and said ‘Ready?’ and within 15 seconds the kids were on stage swinging around his neck. He’d toss a couple of girls off and he’d look around as if to say ‘Got enough?’ in the middle of singing this song. It’s demonic, it’s voodoo, it’s Satan.” 

So many adjectives have been linked to Jagger: Aristocratic, bitchy, upper class, ladies man, child support, legal bills, court dates, alimony, fame suckers, hangers-on, intellectual property, bitchy, London parasites, starring into the mirror, narcissist, disco's, scenesters, models, groupies, socialites, speed freaks, phonies, poseurs, debauchery, decadent, vanity, mass media, leisure industry complex, prince of darkness, steal your soul, bitchy songs, satanic majesty, androgynous, funhouse of mirrors, urban decay, moral depravity, desolation, economics, high class pimp, fame and fortune, imperialism, combat zones, jaded rouè, showgirl, mystic crystal revelations, acid trip, alienation, apocalypse,  violence on the streets, pilage and burning thats its hard to pin him down. 

On the song Prodigal Son country-blues sermon from the Rev. Robert Wilkins, transmuted into the strange love between these two blood brothers. It’s the Bible story of the rich man’s heir who goes crawling back home in shame. But Mick has no ability to feel shame, or even surprise — he never had a doubt they’d take him back. At the end, Keith lets out a hearty “heeey!,” as if he’s so caught up in the story — and in this musical mind-meld — he can’t help himself. On Gimme Shelter he said “That’s a kind of end-of-the-world song, really. It’s apocalypse; the whole record’s like that,” Jagger tells Rolling Stone’s Jann S. Wenner. “It’s a very rough, very violent era. The Vietnam War. Violence on the screens. Pillage and burning.” But somehow, the song feels even more terrifying today. 

Something Happened to Me Yesterday is a good example of Mick capturing the times. In the heyday of mystic-crystal revelations of 1967, Mick goes deep on an acid trip that leaves him more alienated — and more hilariously English — than ever. David Bowie basically founded his career on this song, especially the moment where Mick muses, “You’re talking in a most peculiar way.” In that moment, you can hear “Space Oddity” and all that followed. 

The early days of music video. “Hang Fire” is a zero-budget one-take quickie — no props, no concept, just five rock stars herded into a hallway for a couple of minutes of awesomely inept lip-synching. (Woody maybe had a little too much sugar in his tea this morning.) But Mick minces like a showgirl with the rent due, especially the moment where he sneaks up to a giant picture of himself to give it a great big kiss.

Micks bares his soul in ‘Too Tough’ in 1983, on a startlingly candid song hidden on the Undercover album, where Mick dishes the dirt about how lonely it feels being a jaded roué with a heart of stone. He spots one of his old flames while he’s flipping channels, no doubt in some five-star hotel. As he sings, “I saw you on TV last night in a rerun soap/You were young and beautiful, already without hope.” He wonders why he’s doomed to live his life this way. Then he goes right on living his life this way.

The Stones hit the ground running in the Eighties, with one of their leanest, meanest, funkiest hits. Mick rails against Reagan-era U.S. imperialism, ranting, “One hundred thousand disparus/Lost in the jails of South America.” The band mix the Clash, Grandmaster Flash, Lee Perry, and Duran Duran into their own electro-throb groove. Like so many Stones classics, it’s a boogie through a combat zone. In the video, Keith plays the kidnapper who pulls a gun on Mick — he’d probably spent years waiting for that moment.

Mick’s movie career has led him to some very strange places, but he’s brilliant in the Hollywood melodrama The Man From Elysian Fields’ in 2001, as a high-class pimp running a posh male-escort service. In a fancy restaurant, he confesses to Angelica Huston that fame and fortune is meaningless without true love. “If you don’t use success to enrich your life, then you’re just putting failure into Gucci shoes.” She laughs in his face. Mick never expresses this sentiment ever again.

As a student at the London School of Economics, a nice boy named Mike Jagger changes his name, to conjure up a little faux-Irish salt-of-the-earth street cred. Result: one of the all-time great rock-star names. His family keeps calling him “Mike” for the rest of their lives. 

In the star-studded chaos of the Stones’ brilliant concert film Rock and Roll Circus, Mick has a heart-to-heart sitdown with John Lennon. They reminisce about their early days together, calling each other “Michael” and “Winston,” but the tension is electric. “He said a lot of sort of tarty things about the Beatles,” John tells Rolling Stone in 1970, “which I am hurt by, because you know, I can knock the Beatles, but don’t let Mick Jagger knock them. I would like to just list what we did and what the Stones did two months after on every fuckin’ album. Every fuckin’ thing we did, Mick does exactly the same — he imitates us. And I would like one of you fuckin’ underground people to point it out.

Welcome to New York — it’s been waiting for you. Or as Mick would phrase it, “Go ahead, bite the Big Apple! Don’t mind the maggots!” “Shattered” is one of the nastiest, funniest NYC travelogues ever, with Mick bitching about urban decay and moral depravity, from the pimps on Seventh Avenue to the rats on the West Side to the bedbugs uptown. And he wouldn’t be anywhere else. “Shattered” comes at the all-time peak of America’s 1970s obsession with hating New York, in the aftermath of the Summer of Sam, upping the punk-rock ante on CBGB in a riot of “shedooby” chants and guitar sludge. Suggested slogan for the NYC Tourism Bureau: “Pride and joy and greed and sex, that’s what makes our town the best!”

When Jagger & Bowie collaborated on a comedy genius dance-off, two of the proudest rock divas ever face off to strut their stuff, both out for blood. Jagger and Bowie try to top each other, stealing each other’s moves, wiggling their jazz hands and shaking their asses. Funniest moment: While David does his prancing, Mick bends down to grab his beer, takes a swig, then goes back into battle with Bowie. Who wins? We all do

Just when it looked like the Stones were going to fade away into professional rock smarm, Mick saved their bacon with Some Girls, an album of mega-bitchy songs about losing his mind in New York City, in the aftermath of his marriage. It’s their most Mick-dominated album — and their all-time bestseller. In the hit “Miss You,” he faces up to the kind of heartbreak he’s spent his life dancing around, wandering through the city, shuffling barefoot through the street, with total strangers asking, “What’s the matter witchoo, boy?”

Michael Lindsay-Hogg directed Jumping Jack Flash, the revolutionary clip of Mick leading the Stones through their new hit. The Prince of Darkness dances up to the camera, war paint on his face. He does his insolent stare right into your eyes and steals your very soul. His green velvet suit is open in front, with a tattoo of a clock on his chest. He does all the Mick moves you’ve seen so many times, but never scarier than they are right now. Charlie and Bill are done up in mascara. Mick and Brian glower in their shades. It’s the most jolting footage of Mick in action, even though there’s no nudity, no violence, nothing at all but him lost in this song. He’s here to ruin your world. He’s here to warp your mind. He’s up to no good and he absolutely means it.

Nobody’s ever described Mick better than Greil Marcus in his classic Mystery Train: “His songs are loud, brutal and mean, containing feelings you like to pretend you do not have, recollections you would like to forget, and temptations that up until now you have wisely avoided.” That’s all here in “Satisfaction,” where he’s just another product of the leisure-industrial complex, defined by mass media and cigarette ads and sexual consumerism.

Carly Simon definitely chose the right backup singer for her Number One smash “You’re So Vain.” Mick proves why he’s Mr. Love in Vain — because he’s so in love with being vain. You can hear him singing along with Carly in the chorus — “You’re so vain! I bet you think this song is about you! Don’t you? Don’t you? Don’t you?” Mick sings the way you can only sing if you sincerely believe every song is about you.

On the tune Sway the change has come. It’s the Seventies, and Mick is so awash in debauchery he can barely enunciate his words, creating a hypnotic haze with the incantation, “It’s just that demon life has got me in its sway.” The younger, more innocent Mick in the band — new guitar recruit Mick Taylor — plays all the guitar himself, making “Sway” the Stones song that’s officially too decadent for Keith.

Ride On Baby is a lethal satire from Flowers, a concept album about all the hip young scenesters flocking around Mick in the London of 1966: artists, models, groupies, socialites, phonies, speed freaks, poseurs. Mick has nothing but bad news for these people. “Ride On, Baby” kisses them off, with Brian Jones’ harpsichord-and-marimba groove. The music is glam but ominous, as Mick moves in for the kill, sneering, “By the time you’re 30, gonna look 65/You won’t look pretty and your friends will have kissed you goodbye.” How can this song hit so hard yet remain so obscure all these years.

Doncha Bother Me” is the bitchiest moment on the 1966 classic Aftermath — which is quite an achievement. Mick sneers at all the London parasites, hangers-on, imitators, fame-suckers, assuring them that they’ll never catch up to him. Ever the innovator, he also makes sure they can’t lay a finger on his intellectual property

Mick's Studio 54 obsession pays off in “Emotional Rescue,” a comedy goof that somehow flukes its way to the top of the charts. He knocks it off late one night, just for kicks and giggles, ad-libbing an outrageous falsetto-disco vamp on electric piano, with Woody on bass and Charlie on drums. He makes up the arched-eyebrow sex monologue on the spot, promising, “I will be your knight in shining aaarmooour.” To his shock, it blows up into an international dance hit. As he tells Rolling Stone, “It’s just one of those recording-studio things. You would never really write a song like that in real life.

There is practically nothing going on in this tune except Mick staring into a mirror and falling deeply in lust with his own lascivious charms, which is why he can sound so self-parodic yet so authentically lecherous at the same time. (Like so many of his sex songs, it’s all about him, with barely a glance at his alleged muse.) By the end, Mick’s screaming, “I’m the burning bush! I’m the burning fire! I’m the bleeding volcano.

No other rock & roll singer could have gotten away with this teary ballad, but Mick relishes the role of a forlorn aristocrat, weeping over his lost childlike innocence. (Talk about a distant memory.) He and Keith originally wrote it for Marianne Faithful, but it takes Mick’s fab arrogance to put it over the top, as he sobs, “My riches can’t buy everything.

On Some Girls the title song Mick reveals the dirty details of playing the ladies’ man, for any fans out there who wish they could be him. He introduces the kids in the audience to exciting new concepts like child support, social diseases, alimony, court dates, legal bills — and lets them all know they can’t afford.

The deep cut Backstreet Girl feom 1967 is scathing portrait of male vanity — always Mick’s  specialty, and always his favorite target for his mean streak. A gorgeous accordion waltz about a hypocritical upper-class snob and his secret working-class mistress, as he talks down to her: “Please take the favors I grant/Curtsy and act nonchalant.

This honky-tonk hoedown groove gets raunchier as it goes along, as Mick tarts it up with his sluttiest schoolgirl gasps over Keith’s guitar. He urges you to rest your weary head on his breasts, and ends up begging you to splash your bodily fluids all over him. In 1969, when the Stones’ music was full of dread and doom, “Let It Bleed” was a moment where the sex drive could win out over the death drive. Even if the song gives you the suspicion that Mick Jagger’s one true erotic obsession will always be Mick Jagger.

On the TAMI SHOW in 1964 he’s got the toughest job in this legendary concert film: He has to go on after James Brown. The Stones begged to play before JB, since nobody in showbiz could top his “Night Train” dance, or his “Please, Please, Please” routine of fighting his way back to the microphone. But Jagger jumps out there and boogies for his life, mincing and swiveling through “It’s All Over Now.”

A soulful guitar ballad about adult heartache. But the money moment is when Mick licks his lips and slips into his falsetto reverie about “pretty-pretty-pretty-pretty girrrrrls.” It’s like he can’t wait for the chance to transform himself into the prettiest girl of them all. (Pretty-pretty! Such a pretty!) It inspired one of the all-time best Stones covers, from the punk band Wild Flag, with the dueling guitars and falsettos of Sleater-Kinney’s Carrie Brownstein and Helium’s Mary Timony.

Mick has brought down the house at 30 Rock so many times: belting “Shattered” in 1978, seeing Jimmy Fallon in the mirror in 2001, karaokeing “Moves Like Jagger” in 2012. But his greatest SNL hit has to be this Weekend Update appearance, with Mike Myers in 1992 playing Mick and Mick all pirated up to play a zonked-out Keith. It’s a Point/Counterpoint debate on controversial rap lyrics, Ice-T, and censorship. Mick-as-Keith just mumbles incomprehensibly, behind his shades, headband, and cigarette. His best punchline: “Mick, you ignorant slut.”

In his comedy special Kid Gorgeous, Mulaney gives a hilarious description of his week of agony when Mick hosted SNL, shooting down his ideas for jokes. “Never to your face does a British billionaire in leather pants go ‘not funnaaaaay!’” When the two write a song together for a sketch, Mulaney has to ask, “Motherfucker, is this how you write songs? Just one word at a time, with verbal abuse?”

Mick wears wizard hat on the cover of ‘Their Satanic Majesties Request'.  The Stones tried to go psychedelic in this zany Sgt. Pepper’s omelette, which they quickly disavowed. But Satanic Majesties has always been one of their most underrated records, simply because it’s one of their most Mick records. He absolutely kills it in the dystopian sci-fi blues of “The Lantern,” “Citadel,” and “2000 Man,” a totally accurate prediction of our modern world’s doom-scrolling bait-clicking phone addiction.

The climax of one of the darkest, scariest of all rock films: Performance. Mick stars as a demonic reclusive rock star named Turner, hiding out in his London mansion in a decadent menage a trois with Anita Pallenberg and Michele Breton. As he warns, “The only performance that makes it, that really makes it, that makes it all the way, is the one that achieves madness.” The tension explodes when Mick howls this blues curse, “Memo from Turner,” with blues guitar from Ry Cooder. The song ended up in an equally druggy movie years later — it’s part of Ray Liotta’s coke-sweat freakout at the end of Goodfellas.

Mick is such a symbol of Western decadence, he creates an international crisis without even trying. In August 1983, at the peak of Cold War paranoia, a 16-year-old Russian kid — the son of a Soviet diplomat — tries to defect to the U.S. because he wants to be like the Stones. It doesn’t work, but as he’s boarding the plane back to Moscow, his parting words to reporters: “Say hi to Mick Jagger.”

Mick redefines pants in ‘Rock and Roll Circus’ A fashion peak for Mick, which for him means it’s also a philosophical peak. He’s the ringmaster of the Stones’ lavish concert movie Rock and Roll Circus. Sadly, the film gets buried, because they get cold feet when they see how great the Who are that night. But Mick has never made a prettier peacock, rocking his purple trousers off as he sings “You Can’t Always Get What You Want.” In his skintight red shirt and leather belt, he’s the queen of the underground.

Mick redefines the collapse of civilization in ‘Jigsaw Puzzle’. The Stones take a huge leap forward with Beggars Banquet — the album where they finally shake off the Beatles influence and blow up the blues. “Jigsaw Puzzle” is his wildly comic ramble through modern culture, a spoiled rock & roll prince watching the castles crumbling. Mick crows, “The singer, he looks angry at being thrown to the lions!” He also notes that the guitarists look damaged, the drummer looks shattered, and the bassist looks “nervous about the girls outside,” which is probably true.

Mick proves how easy it is to write faux-‘Exile’ songs with ‘Plundered My Soul’ For the 50th Anniversary edition of Exile on Main Street, Mick refurbishes some outtakes into finished songs, whipping up new lyrics. All he needs to do is go into his old Exile character, and out comes the brilliance of “Plundered My Soul.” It kinda raises the question of why he doesn’t do this more often? Jagger pulls the same trick for the Some Girls reissue, adding a whole new coat of NYC grime to “Do You Think I Really Care?”

Angie is exactly the kind of song you’d sing if you wanted to sound heartbroken about a woman, but you had no idea what it was like to give a shit. He sounds like he keeps saying her name because he’s having trouble remembering it. (“Angie, Aaa-haaan-jaaay—it is Angie, right?”) Keith started writing this song while recovering from heroin detox, for the album Goats Head Soup, but Mick turns it into his own kind of melodrama.

'Sweet Thing' is considered to be Mick's best solo effort, but the fantastic deep 'Empty Heart' from 1964, cut from the early days — the hungry young Stones at their meanest, out to conquer the world with this raw, primitive electric screamer of a song. Mick yowls about how it feels to have an empty heart, and why that’s a good thing.

In 1978 Mick caused an internationL scandal, making the headlines for reportedly dallying with Margaret Trudeau — whose husband at the time just happens to be the prime minister of Canada. (As is her son Justin in 2023.) The first lady skips their wedding anniversary to party with the Stones, in the same Toronto hotel where Keith just got busted for dope. Even Charlie Watts admits, “I wouldn’t want my wife associating with us.” Mick is shocked, shocked, at the sex rumors, dismissing them as “insulting to me and insulting to her.”

Monty Python’s Eric Idle and Neil Innes devised the fabbest and funniest of Beatles spoofs: The Rutles. In their TV mock-rockumentary All You Need Is Cash, they chronicle the Pre-Fab Four — “a music legend that will last a lunchtime.” But Mick steals the show as himself, totally deadpan, as he discusses the Rutles’ breakup, warning, “Cherchez la femme.” Mick gets the final word in the movie. Interviewer: “Do you think they’ll ever get back together?” Jagger: “I ‘ope not.”

Mick peacocks across Top 40 radio with the sleepwalk sex swagger of “Honky Tonk Women,” where the poor boy sounds exhausted by his busy bed-hopping schedule. He leers over the guitars and cowbell, as if if he’s slipping into a post-coital coma, chewing up the punchline: “She blew my nose and then she blew my mind.” It hits Number One for four weeks — the Stones’ biggest U.S. single.

Mick is such a symbol of Western decadence, he creates an international crisis without even trying. In August 1983, at the peak of Cold War paranoia, a 16-year-old Russian kid — the son of a Soviet diplomat — tries to defect to the U.S. because he wants to be like the Stones. It doesn’t work, but as he’s boarding the plane back to Moscow, his parting words to reporters: “Say hi to Mick Jagger.”

Mick dances on the 60's grave with 'Dead Flowers' poison valentine for the Woodstock generation? A surly lament for Altamont? A hardass portrait of smiling young potheads turning into zombie-eyed junkies? A countrified obituary for the not-even-dead-yet Gram Parsons? “Dead Flowers” is all that and more.

I’d like to point out one of Mick Jagger’s greatest and most overlooked quirks: his penchant for using ludicrous accents. It’s the oft unmentioned, oft forgotten tool with which Mick pushed music forward, whilst reaching back into its past, shining a mirror to its faults and moving forward.

So, it was quite common for him to don an exaggerated American, more specifically Southern-American accent, while singing various folk or country influenced songs. Quite possibly the best example of this is on the Stone’s 1978 album, “Some Girls,” in which Mick does THE WORST caricature of a country-western singer I have ever heard in “Far Away Eyes.” Mick even does some redneck spoken word “poetry” at various points in the song. It’s immediately funny, but it’s also a subtle satire of the genre, as Mick sings about religion and perfectly parodies the weird, exploitative nature of early rock music and the African American community. As most musicians, such as Jerry Lee Lewis and Elvis built their careers off of stealing from early African American performers.

One of his most explicable, and maybe least intentional accents was that of the strange quasi-German/Austrian accent that he uses in the spoken word section at the end of their 1980 song, “Emotional Rescue.” Nothing is written on this accent. Seriously, I’ve looked multiple times over the years and come up with no reasonable explanation, nor any explanation at all as to why he used that accent. Like, seriously, it’s almost as if nobody’s noticed that the lead singer of one of the world’s biggest rock bands suddenly started musing about being a “knight in shining armor” while LITERALLY sounding like “Funky Dracula.”

Though, he wrote songs for the common folk, quite literally ending an album with a song entitled “Salt of the Earth” in which he literally sang a ballad for the working class. Mick also used, according to a Hazlitt article by Linda Besner, a fake cockney accent, making him sound, more working class than he actually was. According to the article, several famous British people have used this “mockney accent” as a way to fit in with the populace. As Besner writes, “usually doing it to express some kind of solidarity between themselves and a historically underprivileged sector of society,” it was a way for The Stones to inject into the culture their messages, many of which lampooned the status quo and helped to bring about the revolutionary nature of the ‘60s.

In the flesh Jagger looked smaller and less impressive, so he had to work any room he enteted. Which is to say he had to flit around ceaselessly, wave his hands expressively a lot, wiggle his bum a bit, chat with certain people while pointedly ignoring others. He was constantly on the move, his body language like that of an over indulgend eleven year old allowed to stay up late and show off at his parents dinner party. He had this other peculiar habit of adopting the dialect and accent of anyone he was talking to, just as he was talking to them. One one occasion he was in a room with a white guy from the American South, a black guy from LA and a man from the North of England; and everyone stood quietly aghast as Micks voice weaved a reckless path away from his usual Cockney intonations to attempt a 'y'all' drenched drawl straight out of a particularly arch Tennessee Williams productions before slipping into a 'soul brother' black speak somewhat in the over excited cadence of Little Richard. When he finally started talking like a Manchester bus driver, everyone in the room looked utterly mystified because the whole performance was frankly ridiculous to begin with and you couldnt tell if Jagger consciously realized he was even doing it or not. But ultimately it didnt matter cose it got him what he wanted, which was to be the centre of attention.