Ciccone Youth is the side project of Kim Gordon, Thurston Moore, Steve Shelley and Lee Ranaldo (all of Sonic Youth), with Mike Watt (of Minutemen). The band has never played live, and has only released one full-length album, The WhitneyAlbum, in 1988.
The Whitney Album is one of the most varied albums I've ever heard in terms of style and sound. Mixing 1980s pop, new wave, noise, and samples from Madonna songs--Ciccone Youth is a group of extremely talented musicians playing around on their off hours. I played the track "Macbeth" on my radio show a few weeks ago, a funky, grinding, screeching experimentation with a hybrid of lounge-era electronica and free form noise.
If you don't want to hear a cover of Madonna's "Into The Groove" that sounds like straight up Bauhaus, there's something wrong with you.
Check it out. I guarantee no matter what you listen to, there's one track you'll fall in love with (if not all of them).
As a woman with a radio show centered around punk and noise music, I often run into the tangled issue of misogyny and violence in fringe music. I think it's a fascinating conundrum that isn't just limited to music, but the definition of art itself. However, my opinions on women in punk aren't what I'm writing about today. What I'm interested in are the messages conveyed in punk and noise music (to use those terms very broadly) that often target women or minorities in a negative way. Words and lyrics take on a complex, and often problematic duality. Punk and noise is a genre traditionally dominated by men. Fans of these genres are no strangers to offensive, and often racist and sexist lyrics. The Brainbombs song "Anne Frank" describes raping and mutilating Anne Frank. Not only perverted and misogynistic, the song is anti-Semitic as well.
But, to throw in the heated question, is there artistic merit to this song? Certainly it's offensive from the stark perspective of lyrics on paper. Certainly it's outrageous and meant to be so. But it illustrates an opinion, a point of view, not necessarily one that the artists themselves hold, but a worldview that someone, somewhere, probably does hold. Maybe we should redefine what we mean when we say "offensive."
To use a literary example, Vladimir Nabokov's Lolita (one of my favorite novels) is notoriously controversial for just this reason. Its in-depth descriptions of pedophilia, murder, and sexual perversion are so visceral that it was banned in multiple countries. Is Vladimir Nabokov a pedophile? No. Does he illustrate the opinions and sensual desires of a pedophile? Yes. In reading Lolita, we are forced to design a personal paradigm with which to read the book. The protagonist (and pedophile), Humbert Humbert, coins the term "solipsization," or "to solipsize." The original meaning of solipsism is fashioned into something new. Humbert creates a separate universe in which he can sexualize Lolita and fantasize about her without encroaching on reality. The problem however, is those lines blur very quickly, as Humbert does in fact violate Lolita many, many times throughout the novel.
However, the concept of solipsism is quite interesting. The safety of solipsism is the opportunity it gives us to experience art in the most visceral sense, the most potent form of imaginative engagement and suspension of disbelief. We can place ourselves in a separate reality when we listen to music and experience it without repulsion from the aspects of it that we consider morally unacceptable. However, the peril of solipsism is the ability it has to dehumanize and obscure reality. I am able to take my own beliefs about feminism, equality, and misogyny, and put those to the side while listening to "Anne Frank." To be clear, I don't like hearing about anti-Semitism or rape, and I am certainly not defending Brainbombs, but I am curious about the lyrics. I wonder what it would be like to be misogynistic, or racist, or abusive--it is a type of imaginative engagement for me, rather like watching a movie or a play. When we watch a Quentin Tarantino movie, or read Lolita, we're not relishing the gory, disgusting elements--we are simply imagining what that would be like. A reader can only fully enjoy Lolita when they set their moral judgments aside, and let themselves fall under Humbert's spell, even agree with him at times. That's the fun in art--it allows us to try on different opinions and desires, to experience something other than ourselves.
That said, are musicians actors and authors? I am inclined to say that yes, idealistically, that is their role. However, these lines are easily blurred. Some artists are simple to analyze. Steve Albini has written some extremely offensive songs in his long and varied career. However, offstage, Albini is a completely different character. It's actually comical to think about him onstage versus the sort of person he appears to be on his food blog (it's totally awesome, check it out), where he gushes about cooking meals for his wife and serving her breakfast in bed. It's clear that Albini is playing a character in his music. He embodies a raging, perverted, graphic human onstage, but goes home to his wife when the show is over, same as a Shakespearean actor playing a villain like Macbeth or Iago. A musician can be an actor if the incidents and opinions he is describing are platonic scenarios used to challenge the audience and make them think.
However, this is not always the case. The ability "solipsization" has to blur lines is dangerous. There's a seedy underbelly to any countercultural movement, and none more so than punk, noise, and power electronics. Women have been harmed before, and hate crimes have been committed. The line between theatrics and reality has been crossed before, and it continues to happen. I don't think that's a reason to stop creating controversial art though. "Anne Frank" describes some of the most grisly aspects of human desire. It reminds us of our potential to commit horrendous sins and it fascinates us with its total lack of sensitivity towards subject matter that many consider taboo. In my personal opinion, I actually find punk and noise exciting because of this, there's a certain thrill in choosing to play a controversial song. Words are what you make of them. Actions are concrete, but words can be personalized, they can be "taken back" and "owned." I choose to expose these elements of music, the grisly, dark parts that people don't like to think about. I think admitting they exist and discussing them is actually a good way of leveling the playing field and making artists more accountable for what they do and say, forcing them to question the images they are using, and what meaning they are looking to convey in their music.
