A propos of little, beyond, I suppose a continuation of my New Romantic thread, I thought I'd air an hypothesis that struck me recently: The British pop sensibility leans more to the camp than the cool. Discuss.
Is this really obvious? Forgive me if it is, but I do think if we audit the most characteristic icons or moments in our pop history, then there is a decided bias towards mince rather than menace, over-statement than under. I raise this because 'cool' (a pretty meaningless term if truth be told) is an attribute often used lazily in association with what we do over here - London is way cool drivels the emo from Vancouver -; is it? I wonder. Cool is more consistently a US pop cultural property, while we guys have difficulty sustaining the detachment and self-regard that this state demands.
Which is interesting, because I think we were responsible for defining a look and stance that can be seen as one of the first prototypes of what we now identify as cool. Dandyism was an English phenomenon, emerging in the regency. And dandyism in its pure form was very much about understated elegance. Nuance, nicety and nonchalence, rather than opulence and flourish. It led to black becoming the uniform of the man about town, and black, through various iterations is the sartorial staple of cool. Now, to put this immediately in perspective, look at what we do with black now. The Goths are one of the few home-grown British pop style cults, who are, of course, drenched in black, and cloaked in melancholy. Does that make them cool? It should do, but something goes awry. Apart from Pete Murphy in the BASF ad (white socks accepted), Goth is as camp as a row of black tents. Even Goth - home-grown British Goth - doesn't take itself too seriously, and camps it up with lace and red and purple and all kinds of kitchy drag, because it just can't leave it alone, just can't do the nonchalant detachment demanded of cool.
This, I think, is quite prevalent across the piece if we would but briefly survey it. Punk, cool? The Ramones maybe. But not the British version. Recklessly camp, despite a dollop of theatrical menace. Roxy? OK, maybe in the suave lounge-lizard incarnation, but, surely its only in this country that a bald, button-pushing nerd like Eno would consider pushing the eyelined envelope of camp so far with that absurd getup. Kraftwerk pushed buttons too, but never dropped their guard. Bowie essayed cool with the Thin White Duke, but that was only a phase he went through, and before you knew it he was dragged up again for Scarey Monsters and upstaging even Steve Strange in the video. Yes, there are a few counter examples. The Velvet Underground surely defined late-60s arthouse cool, but then Reed camped it up rotten with the Transformer album cover, and Walk on the Wild(e) Side, and there are many poodle-haired absurdities from 80s US rock that thought they were cool, but went where even Slade or Gary Glitter feared to tread as regards a version of camp. But on balance there appears to be something deeply lodged in the British pop psyche that prevents us doing cool with much conviction. 'Performance', a film about an East End villain, as hard as nails. Before you know it, he's riffling through Jagger's drag box and upstaging old wiggle bum himself. Clockwork Orange? Alex and his Droogs should be as cool as those glasses of milk plus, but they just can't resist mixing ultraviolence with some high theatrical camp. The single false eyelash says it all.
I've no idea what this adds up to, or from where it all comes. But here it is, and long may it continue. The day we can do cool with real conviction is the day we start to take ourselves seriously. May I never see the day.
Is this really obvious? Forgive me if it is, but I do think if we audit the most characteristic icons or moments in our pop history, then there is a decided bias towards mince rather than menace, over-statement than under. I raise this because 'cool' (a pretty meaningless term if truth be told) is an attribute often used lazily in association with what we do over here - London is way cool drivels the emo from Vancouver -; is it? I wonder. Cool is more consistently a US pop cultural property, while we guys have difficulty sustaining the detachment and self-regard that this state demands.
Which is interesting, because I think we were responsible for defining a look and stance that can be seen as one of the first prototypes of what we now identify as cool. Dandyism was an English phenomenon, emerging in the regency. And dandyism in its pure form was very much about understated elegance. Nuance, nicety and nonchalence, rather than opulence and flourish. It led to black becoming the uniform of the man about town, and black, through various iterations is the sartorial staple of cool. Now, to put this immediately in perspective, look at what we do with black now. The Goths are one of the few home-grown British pop style cults, who are, of course, drenched in black, and cloaked in melancholy. Does that make them cool? It should do, but something goes awry. Apart from Pete Murphy in the BASF ad (white socks accepted), Goth is as camp as a row of black tents. Even Goth - home-grown British Goth - doesn't take itself too seriously, and camps it up with lace and red and purple and all kinds of kitchy drag, because it just can't leave it alone, just can't do the nonchalant detachment demanded of cool.
This, I think, is quite prevalent across the piece if we would but briefly survey it. Punk, cool? The Ramones maybe. But not the British version. Recklessly camp, despite a dollop of theatrical menace. Roxy? OK, maybe in the suave lounge-lizard incarnation, but, surely its only in this country that a bald, button-pushing nerd like Eno would consider pushing the eyelined envelope of camp so far with that absurd getup. Kraftwerk pushed buttons too, but never dropped their guard. Bowie essayed cool with the Thin White Duke, but that was only a phase he went through, and before you knew it he was dragged up again for Scarey Monsters and upstaging even Steve Strange in the video. Yes, there are a few counter examples. The Velvet Underground surely defined late-60s arthouse cool, but then Reed camped it up rotten with the Transformer album cover, and Walk on the Wild(e) Side, and there are many poodle-haired absurdities from 80s US rock that thought they were cool, but went where even Slade or Gary Glitter feared to tread as regards a version of camp. But on balance there appears to be something deeply lodged in the British pop psyche that prevents us doing cool with much conviction. 'Performance', a film about an East End villain, as hard as nails. Before you know it, he's riffling through Jagger's drag box and upstaging old wiggle bum himself. Clockwork Orange? Alex and his Droogs should be as cool as those glasses of milk plus, but they just can't resist mixing ultraviolence with some high theatrical camp. The single false eyelash says it all.
I've no idea what this adds up to, or from where it all comes. But here it is, and long may it continue. The day we can do cool with real conviction is the day we start to take ourselves seriously. May I never see the day.
