theory
praxis
Friday, February 13, 2026
Monday, February 2, 2026
None more Old Wavier
Fascinated by this particular performance of a song that was among the select group of pre-punk songs to cut through to me, a child then not paying that much attention to the hit parade beyond a weekly watch of Top of the Pops.
"Wide Eyed and Legless" is a harrowing confession of inadequacy and failure - "this world is full of my shame" - from a man beaten by the bottle ("the rhythm of the glass is stronger than the rhythm of life") and who sees no prospect of ever getting "free of these chains". He's been here before, so many times, and remains locked in a cycle of sorrow that cannot be drowned.
And here's the singer grinning through the performance, laughing and larking about, and the band too all smiley affability - while an audience of children (the show is Supersonic) bob balloons about and treat Fairweather-Low and crew as if they're a boy-band like Slik or Flintlock.
Incongruous!
Musically, it's true, the laidback, easy-going sound is at odds with the lyric - it sounds more lighthearted than the subject matter..
That Old Wave musicianship also feels equally at odds with Supersonic. It's like if John Martyn popped up in the teatime slot for kids programs
Packed with pre-punk pleasures: the smokey yet somehow also icy electric piano (on the record it's played by Rabbit aka John Bundrick.... here it is Georgie Fame)... the pedal steel from B.J. Cole.... Maudlin countrypolitan strings add sweetness that only brings out the sourness more sharply.... and a great aching edge-of-strained vocal from Andy Fairweather-Low.
For sure, pop history has had its fair share of "heavy" hit singles, dealing with death and other grim stuff...
(I mean, "Copacabana" is tragedy.... "D.IV.O.R.C.E." is gritted-teeth behind the jokey framing... Country specifically is full of this kind of thing: "If Drinkin' Don't Kill Me (Her Memory Will)", "He Stopped Loving Her Today"... I once tried to persuade a girlfriend that "Hello Walls" was as harrowing as Joy Division).
But "Wide Eyed and Legless" - it's like The Lost Weekend or Leaving Las Vegas fed through Billy Sherrill...
"Wide Eyed and Legless" got to Number 6 in the winter of 1975.
You couldn't get much more Old Wave than the title and cover of the album on which "Wide Eyed" appears. The washed-out colour palette alone...
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"Legless" I get.... "wide eyed", though? It works in the song - but on reflection I'm not sure what he means... so drunk you've lost control of your vision as well as your limbs?
Did Andy F-L actually create an idiom here, by combining two existing idiomatic type words?
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Presumably it's the semi-inspiration for this made-for-TV film I never heard of before, and which seems to be trying to out-do the song for grimness.
Wide-Eyed and Legless (known in the US as The Wedding Gift) is a 1993 made-for-TV British drama film, directed by Richard Loncraine starring Julie Walters, Jim Broadbent, Sian Thomas and Thora Hird.
It is based on the 1989 book Diana's Story by the writer Deric Longden, who co-wrote the script with Jack Rosenthal.] The film tells the story of the final years of Deric's (played by Broadbent) marriage to his wife, Diana (Walters), who contracted a degenerative illness which left her unable to walk and in almost constant pain and which medical officials were unable to understand at the time, though now believed to be a form of chronic fatigue syndrome or myalgic encephalomyelitis. As Diana's health deteriorated, she encourages him to spend time with another woman whom Longden has met (the partially-sighted and legally blind novelist Aileen Armitage (Thomas)), to help ease his pain over her eventual death.
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It's been borrowed at least a couple of times as the title for a book, including this one, where the "wide eyed" fits the idea perhaps of an innocent thrown into the decadence and madness of the rock biz:
Wide Eyed & Legless: The memoirs of a music biz journalist & pr
by Brian Anthony Harrigan
The story of a music journalist in the UK in the 1970s and early Eighties in which our hero is fished out of a freezing swimming pool by Ozzy Osbourne, is terrified by the older brother of the Kray Twins, inadvertently inspires a hit record for Lindisfarne, gets his best friend a smack in the mouth from Tony Iommi, helps launch a brand new music paper in ten days, co-writes the Encyclopedia Metallica, is horrified by Jimmy Saville, spends an afternoon in a pub with Genesis P. Orridge and an elephant's vagina, faints after meeting a Beach Boy, cruises the bomb-ravaged streets of Belfast with the Bay City Rollers and is at a complete loss as to what to do with Dee D. Jackson
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Looking for any info on the real-life inspiration for the Andy Fairweather-Low song, I came across a borrowing of the title by latterday singer-songwriter Laura Veirs
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In a mysteriously deleted post, a commenter notes what I had clean forgot: Talking Heads's "Cross Eyed and Painless" is clearly a nod to "Wide Eyed and Legless". So it must have got some radio play in the USA....
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A detailed interview with Andy Fairweather-Low, going from his pop star days in Amen Corner through the solo career and onto his long latterday career as a journeyman playing with figures like Eric Clapton and Roger Waters. Presumably his amiability and reliability have put him good stead...
Saturday, January 17, 2026
None New Wavier (17 of ???)
Proficiency of the musicians - and the prowess / power of the singing - suggests an Old Wave into New Wave makeover.
And indeed...
Before Angletrax, the singer Wendy Herman was in Sadista Sisters, an all-female confrontational cabaret troupe who made a fairly feeble record in 1976 for Transatlantic Records
Their Brechtian agit-prop approach went over well in Germany and Holland though
In the UK probably big among a certain Time Out reading contingent
Although Sounds put them on the cover
Then the Sadistas dropped the soft rock stylings for something a little more arty and angular for one last single
Somewhere between Peter Gabriel and Pink Industry
Probably they heard a Judy Nylon record and thought 'oops better change it up sharpish'
‘This company aimed to explode myths about the female psyche and challenged the notion that women are there to serve as ciphers for male protagonists in theatre. This music/theatre company – eclectic, savage, funny, tender and populist exploited everything from performance art to punk – and carried on in many incarnations for 14 years. It was a marriage of many styles’ - from http://sadistasisters.blogspot.com/
Jude Alderson on Sadista Sisters first show at the Hard Rock Cafe, via Unfinished Histories, a website documenting alternative theatre in the UK
"The thing at the Hard Rock wasn’t a show, the thing at the Hard Rock was a sort of event… it was a happening. The first show was…the opening, the set was a pair of female legs and a heart shape, in the centre, which I don’t need to tell you what that was, with a cellophane covering, and Teresa and I in pink cat suits with these amazing masks that were across here [indicates across face], that were like with cheeks and dummies on them and we had pink swimming hats on. So we looked like babies or foetuses or whatever, and we tore our way out of this heart, and then we sang this song ‘Baby Doll’, so we turned immediately into…desirable… nubile, Barbie doll baby women."
Friday, December 26, 2025
Do Anything You Wanna Do
One of those groups who are let down a little by their front man's appearance - not that he isn't "charismatic", he certainly commands the stage.... but his owlish babyface and mullety hair-style, combined with the bared chest in the performance above.... well he's punching above his weight here in the studly rockgod contest
Not just the sound - it's the very ideology of the song that is far more Sixties than late '70s. Euphoric libertinism, a very un-punk confidence in the power of desire unleashed...
Don't need no politicians to tell me things I shouldn't be
Neither no opticians to tell me what I oughta see
No one tells you nothing even when you know they know
But they tell you what you should do
The source of authority is the self and the self alone - even when it comes to getting a prescription for a pair of glasses.
Now this bit....
Gonna break out of the city
Leave the people here behind
Searching for adventure
It's the type of life to find
... reminded me of the echt-Sixties freedom anthem "Born To Be Wild" and its "looking for adventure"
"A true Nature's child" - except for the technocratically designed and administered apparatus of highway construction / extraction-refinement-transportation of gasoline /manufacture of Harley Davidsons.... that entire enormous engine of post-war production-innovation-prosperity that buoys up the adventure of those allegedly breaking "loose" from it, yet secretly utterly dependent on it....
Irresistible song, though - with another great lyric
Get your motor runnin'
Head out on the highway
Looking for adventure
In whatever comes our way
I like smoke and lightnin'
Heavy metal thunder
Racing with the wind
And the feeling that I'm under
Yeah, darlin' gonna make it happen
Take the world in a love embrace
Fire all of your guns at once
And explode into space
Like a true nature's child
We were born, born to be wild
We can climb so high
I never wanna die
Born to be wild
"Fire all of your guns at once /And explode into space" - this where the complicity with the military-industrial complex almost rises to consciousness within the song
And weren't many Hell's Angels actually veterans of World War 2 who found a return to suburban-domestic quiet life to be too boring? (Some, notoriously, supported the Vietnam War and offered to beat up peacenik longhair protestors...)
On the subject of libertinism - hark at the cover of the Rods single!
That's Aleister Crowley, with Mickey Mouse ears on!
Now I am told by students of the black arts that my interpretation (in Shock and Awe) of Aleister C's dictum "Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the law" is wrong - it doesn't mean you can do whatever the hell you like, it means that whatever the Cosmos has designed you for, has endowed and ordained as your nature or gift or vocation or purpose, you should pursue that to the limit, or rather to the no-limit.
"Wilt" means "willed" - it's not you doing the willing, you are being willed. Your deepest existential drive is not a matter of volition, something you decided for yourself, but rather emanates from ... the Force or whatever they call it (Thelema?). So rather than being a Luciferian or "disobedient child" mission statement, "do what thou wilt" is really about a kind of submission to the World-Will.
However I must say, in practice, the maxim would seem to be a recipe for a "do-what-you-like" approach to pursuing one's desires - a psychopath or abuser could say, "just following my nature here! Just being my best monstrous self!".
Another hit single expressing a similar life-stance to the Rods hit, from just a few years later: Thin Lizzy, "Do Anything You Want To"
Equally irresistible tune: the Burundi-ish drums invent Adam and the Ants several months ahead of schedule, great dual-lead gtr. And some good lyrics from Phil
There are people that will investigate you
They'll insinuate, intimidate and complicate you
Don't ever wait or hesitate to
State the fate that awaits those who
Try to shake or take you
Don't let them break you
You can do anything you want to do
It's not wrong what I'm saying, it's true
You can do anything you want to do
Do what you want to
People that despise you
Will analyze then criticize you
They'll scandalize and tell lies until they realize you
Are somebody they should've apologized to
Don't let these people compromise you
Be wise too
You can do anything you want to do
It's not wrong what I'm saying, it's true
You can do anything you want to do
Do what you want to
Hey you
You're not their puppet on a string
You can do everything
It's true
If you really want to
You can do anything you want
Just like I do
You can do anything you want to do
It's not wrong what I'm saying, it's true
You can do anything you want to do
Do what you want to
Hey you
You can do
Hey you
Yes, you
The repetition of "you" drills in this idea of the listener being directly incited to autonomy - "Hey you!"
This advert flexes what Althusser called interpellation - or hailing. It's like a recruitment ad - "the country of rock'n'roll needs YOU"
Actually there are two you's in "Do Anything You Want To" - object and subject.
There's the "you" of the verses, persecuted and bossed around. And then that "you" busts loose, in the chorus, into free living.
A perfect anthem of adolescence.
The last lines are odd in this "nothing can hold you back" anthemic-ness context:
Elvis is dead
The king of rock and roll is dead
Elvis is dead
A sobering conclusion to a song based in the idea rock'n'roll shows you the royal road to freedom and self-realization - early death (42 in Elvis's case)
And of course Phil Lynott would be gone by the age of 36... drugs and drink related illnesses.
As the Thin Lizzy tune ended, another song piped up on YouTube - in an advert - "nothing can stop me, I'm all the way up"
Yes the sentiment is imperishable - and this idea of rock-as-unbridled-freedom lives largest in hip hop
Underlining my sense that rap's politics are libertarian and magical voluntarist (positive thinking, visualization, manifesting) *
As with pre-punk rock, it's the worldview of the adolescent, the disobedient child.
Of course, no way for a society to be run and thank god for the conscientious parentally minded professionals trying to keep the whole shitshow on the rails...
Personally I am in favor of more rules and regulations - a World Government, with an arsenal of punitive powers for those destroying the live-ability of the planet.
Not just Kim Stanley Robinson's Ministry for the Future, hatching policies and solutions and hoping they'll be taken up ... but a whole judicial apparatus...
A Super Ego for a world amok with id energies
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* Reminded of this surprising quote about his addiction to MTV from Harold Bloom
"My favorite viewing, and this is the first time I have ever admitted it to anyone, but what I love to do, when I don’t watch evangelicals, when I can’t read or write and can’t go out walking, and don’t want to just tear my hair and destroy myself, I put on, here in New Haven, cable channel thirteen and I watch rock television endlessly. As a sheer revelation of the American religion it’s overwhelming.... I watch MTV endlessly, my dear, because what is going on there, not just in the lyrics but in its whole ambience, is the real vision of what the country needs and desires. It’s the image of reality that it sees, and it’s quite weird and wonderful. It confirms exactly these two points: first, that no matter how many are on the screen at once, not one of them feels free except in total self-exaltation. And second, it comes through again and again in the lyrics and the way one dances, the way one moves, that what is best and purest in one is just no part of the creation—that myth of an essential purity before and beyond experience never goes away. It’s quite fascinating"
Too many examples...
addendum
I suppose "Anarchy in the UK" and its flipside "I Wanna Be Me" are the properly punk versions of the Sovereign Ego stance.... "I Wanna Be Me" especially sounding more paranoid and cornered than triumphantly free.... a portrait of identity confusion and fear-and-loathing of the media
I had enough of this
This is brainwash
And this is a clue
To the stars who fool you
Gimme World War Three
We can live again
You didn't fool me
I fooled you
You wanna be me
Yeah, didn't I fool you?
I ruined you
I got you in the camera
And I got you in my camera
A second of your life
Ruined for life
You wanna ruin me in your magazine
You wanna cover us in margarine
And now is the time
You got the time
To realise
To have real eyes
Down, down, down, down
And I'll take you down on the underground
Down in the dark
And down in the crypt
Down in the dark
Where the typewriter fit
Down with your pen and pad
Ready to kill
To make me ill
Down, wanna be someone
Wanna be someone
Need to be someone
You wanna be me
Ruin me
A typewriter god
A black-and-white king
PVC
Blackboard books
Black and white
Wanna be me
Sunday, December 21, 2025
"Words that make the air bleed"
1978! Never heard of this - session? guest appearance? interview? Doesn't seem like the sort of thing Capital Radio used to go in for.
I think the estimate of the number of people who'll be listening in is rather inflated... that would be literally every single person in Greater London, at that time.
I mean, yes, "eight million people can listen" to The Pop Group, but are eight million people going to listen? Not very bloody likely.
“Words that make the air bleed” makes me think of "when I fart, the sky bleeds" by Ted Milton on “Confessons of an Aeroplane Farter” - this is before he formed Blurt, who were not unlike The Pop Group, homegrown Contortions
Monday, December 8, 2025
Sex Maniacs
Does any phrase bring to mind the atmosphere, the aroma, of the British 1970s better than "sex maniac"?
Not a rhetorical question - I genuinely am curious if there's a more evocative word or phrase.
I mean, there's "secondary picket".
The ad above is from 1976. The Sex Maniac's Diary launched in 1972, which surely proves its echt-Seventiesness. ("Kinky" would be the much cooler 1960s precursor I should think) (In fact, the Diary has a Kink of the Week listed)..
It reminds me of this forgotten book that I actually got for Christmas that year, I'm really not sure why, given that I was about 13 at the time.
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A sort of spoof on Superwoman - a 1975 best-selling guide to achieving female omni-competence by Shirley Conran - but also a genuine guide for the modern gentleman. Apparently it too was a best-seller.
A riff on "Male Chauvinist Pig" - another very 1970s phrase.
The only things I can remember from Superpig are Willie Rushton's advice on sex: a gentleman always says "thank you" afterwards. And also that prior to intimacy, a man should always undress top down - shirt first, then trousers and socks. Trousers removed while the shirt is still on, he considered an undignified look that would blow your image of suave savoir faire in the boudoir.
Back to the Sex Maniac's Diary - someone I knew at Melody Maker, a freelancer, one of those interesting oddball characters who found their way into the inkie press, actually worked for Tuppy Owens, the female entrepreneur-activist behind the "Sex Maniac's" brand (there were Sex Maniacs Balls and the Erotic Awards and all kinds of other products - this chap was involved in all of that). This would be late '80s, very early '90s, when you would have thought that the "sex maniac" concept would seem frightfully dated.
Actually looking into her life, Tuppy Owens seems to have been a genuinely progressive figure. And she died earlier this year in fact.
The concept of "sex maniac" always makes me think of the wonderful trailer for this classic of softcore smut, a/k/a "funography"
I love the husky elation of the woman singing the theme song: "this is your life, Timmy Lee!"
I say "classic", but I still haven't watched the whole film, even though it's out there
Timothy Leer-y
There's also a film called Confessions of a Sex Maniac, but not sure if this is from the actual official series of Confessions... books / films, which always stipulated a profession or occupation or line of employment, that happened to lend itself to sex-mania
1974, need you ask...
So is the conceit of the novel / film series that "Timothy Lea" is both the author of the books and the protagonist, doing a series of jobs that lend themselves to how's-your-father?
Doug Keeley reminds of the Confessions of a Pop Performer flick - in which Robin Askwith's Timmy Lea plays in a glam band called Kipper
A rip off of the Confessions template
Although there was a Confessions of A Plumber's Mate book....
Another rip-off of the Confessions template
Possible convergence of "sex maniac" and "secondary pickets", ahoy
Brings a whole new spin to the idea of trade union congress…
"Shop Steward" - another '70s-scented phrase of course
Andrew Parker points to the Australian counterpart - Alvin Purple
Whose occupation is water bed salesman
"Purple" - I fear this is meant to connote a la "crimson crowbar"
Ooh, something much much earlier - 1934!
However I think it was originally just called Maniac and then repackaged as Sex Maniac and repositioned for the porno market. In the '70s or '80s
Not sure if any of the following have any relation to Tuppy Owens's brand
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A serious thought - the journey from "sex maniac" to "sex addiction" tells a story about our times. From permissiveness and libidinal liberation to a medicalized era and the idea of appetite-as-affliction
Mind you I suppose - as jocular as an expression as "sex maniac" was, it did contain the idea of psychopathology
What is the literature of sex mania?
Portnoy's Complaint.
The early creepy short stories of Ian McEwan (Ian Macabre as he was nicknamed) have an angle on the souring of Sixties liberation-drive into something seedy, sordid, and depressive-hedonist. There's one involving some blokes who work in a sex shop in Soho... and another about an all-nude singing-dancing-fornicating West End theatre production... and then there's the ones about incest, child molestation (two of those, very different) and Los Angeles as where erotic politics slackens into nullifying decadence.
There's at least a couple of porn film called Sex Maniac and Sex Maniacs - both from the 1970s
But probably the place where the concept lived largest was TV comedy. Everyone is being accused of being one, or claiming to be one.
As suggested by Phil in comments:
Hanky panky, how's your father, slap 'n' tickle, get your end away, leg-over ...
cf words that feel 1980s onwards: bonk, shag, rumpy-pumpy, nookie
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How's about music?
Well, there's this Ian Dury character Billericay Dickie....
Not about a sex maniac, but about a sexy windowcleaner - or is he? (Argument that the song is full of innuendo and is about about a sex worker who vigorously enjoys his work)
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I actually know a sex maniac.... Always on the pull, always going on sex holidays.
This lad's like a characterological throwback to the 1970s - men with eyeballs popping out on stalks and necks that swivel every time a curvy young lady walks by... panting... sweat popping off the forehead and damping up the hairy palms... slavering for a glimpse of knickers...
Like a young, very good looking Benny Hill with ultra-hip music taste
A dirty young man, in fact...
1970s-throwback too insofar as he doesn't use the apps, he's a chat up merchant, always getting girl's numbers in the street.
Funny thing is that he is of the generation that is supposed to have gone off sex, to be doing it markedly less than previous generations... either dissatisfied by or deflected from the Real Thing by their porn addictions... or paradoxically turned off sex because of its insta-availability through Tinder etc... in exactly the same way that streaming can create musical anhedonia, a wilting and atrophy of the urge...
Not him though
x
Tuesday, December 2, 2025
The Parental Voice in Pop
"We gave her most of our lives.... never a thought for ourselves..."
"We only wanted to be loved"
(always taken it to be meant as a clinging motherly or grandmotherly voice, a mixture of sponge and limpet... although others bits of the lyric suggests it's more about the mutual braindeath of matrimony: Rotten's last stand of cynicism before hitching up with Nora, for life)
"Nigel's whole future is as good as planned"
And now for something completely different...
Ray Davies playing truant from his role as Head of the Family, keeping his head down and turning a blind eye...
I am sure there's other examples of the parental voice in the Kinks songbook, must be something on Village Green Preservation...
Not a parental voice but perhaps a social surrogate for the parental - the congressman in "Summertime Blues" - "like to help you son, but you're too young to vote"
Harry Chapin of course...
Not forgetting Cat Stevens's "Father and Son"
Maternal voice internalized as spectral super-ego, not heard but invoked in "Triad"
I love you too
And I don't really see
Why can't we go on as three
You are afraid, embarrassed too
No one has ever said such a thing to you
Your mother's ghost stands at your shoulders
A face like ice, a little bit colder
Saying to you, you cannot do that
It breaks all the rules, you learned in school
But I don't really see
Why can't we go on as three
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update 12/2 late night
Lots of good suggestions in the comments, but this one I remembered myself - it dramatizes a dispute between a dad and his fruity, freaky glam-rock loving kid.
The full skit below concerns a teenager (Tommy Chong) who wakes up and listens to a song by "Alice Bowie" (Cheech Marin) and then his father (also played by Marin) yells at him to get ready for school and they have a fight.
[song]
My mamma talkin' to me, tryna to tell me how to live
But I don't listen to her 'cause my head is like a sieve
My daddy, he disowned me 'cause I wear my sister's clothesHe caught me in the bathroom in a pair of pantyhoseMy basketball coach, he's done kicked me off the teamFor wearing high-heeled sneakers and acting like a queen (queen)
The world's comin' to an end, I don't even careAs long as I can have a limo and my orange hairAnd it don't bother me if people think I'm funny'Cause I'm a big rock star, and I'm making lots of moneyMoney, money, money, money, moneyI'm so bloody rich, I own apartment buildings and shopping centerAnd I only know three chords, watch me burn you fools
[skit starts]
I said turn that thing down and get ready for schoolHey, what are you trying to do? You ruined my record, man, I just bought itI don't care what you just boughtYou get your little fanny perpendicular and get ready for schoolI'm not going to schoolWhat do you mean you're not going to school?
It's what I said, I'm not going to schoolAnd why not?Because I'm sick, that's why notSick, you're sick, all rightWhat's wrong with you now, prince charming?I got an earache
Earache, my eye, how would you like a butt ache?Now, get your little fanny out of that bed and clean up this roomIt looks like a pigsty, you hear me?
(oinking sounds)
All right, that's enough, that's enoughYou pushed me far enough, young man, you're gettin' punishedNow stand up, no I said stand up!
Ah, let go of my hair, manNow, young man, I have talked to you and talked to you and talked to youTil' I'm blue in the face, and I'm done talking to youGood, does that mean you're done spitting on me, too?Shut up, I'm not done talking to you, now turn around and bend overOr what are you going to do, you pervert?
Pervert? What are you snobby littleOw, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, owOh, shut up, I haven't even touched you yetNow I want you to know this is gonna hurt you a lot more than it's going to hurt meOh wow, that didn't even hurtOh, yeah?
Oh, wow, what are you trying to do, tickle me?Tickle you? Yeah, I'll tickle you, ow!Oh, is that tickle, huh?Come on, I'll tickleCome on, lock it up, honey, come onOh no more, no more
All right, now you're gonna do what I tell ya?Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeahYou gonna talk back to me?Yeah, yeah,
what?I mean no, no, no, no, noAlright, now you get your clothes on and get your little butt ready for school right nowDo you understand?
Yeah, alright
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Update: 12/ 3
how could I forget this one?
sourced in this anti-drug single (as mentioned in the comments)
4 Hero's sequel to "Mr Kirk's Nightmare"
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