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Between a Rock and a Hard Place

Well, some kind of summer has finally descended on Camden Town. The sun is out, the birds are singing and the lesser spotted Paparazzi are still gathering every day, about two hundred yards down the road from me, to catch Amy Winehouse in various states of distress. I find it sad that the girl who single-handedly brought back a sense of passion and style to pop music is now more famous for staggering around Camden Town in a drunken state, and for her tortuous love life, than for her music.

The response from record companies has been to sign lots of sound-like female singers, some of whom, it is has to be said, are very good, but they have obviously been drafted in to fill the gap left by Amy’s inability to tour. I heard a track on the radio the other day and hadn’t a clue who it was. It could have been any one of four new female singers currently around.

Over the years, drugs and drink have always played a part in the music scene, but it is the myth that this is somehow the only way to credibility that is most dangerous. I’m currently reading Eric Clapton’s autobiography, which is fascinating, but it’s sad to read of the dark world of drinks and drugs that nearly killed him, fueled by an insecurity in his ability and position in life as a musician.

Last night I went to see Martin Scorsese’s Shine A Light at the  IMAX cinema here in London. Watching the huge screen, I felt like I was on stage with the band. One of the highlights is when the Rolling Stones are joined on stage by Buddy Guy performing a Muddy Waters song called "Champagne and Reefer." On the big screen, the chemistry between the band and Buddy is so tangible it sends shivers up and down your spine. It’s a rare moment, the real deal captured right there on film. It must have been good, as Keith gives Buddy his guitar at the end of the number. It’s a class A high scored without the aid of drugs by men, especially Ronnie and Keith, who have been to some dark places and have come out the other side.

The dilemma is this: Do these musicians play better for their experience of their drink and drug fueled past? The answer in my opinion is yes!  It’s the life experience that makes this performance so real. I’m not advocating taking drugs to make better music--in fact, in my experience, the opposite is true. Listen back to a recording of a grass or drink fueled jam and you’ll probably be listening to the most boring music ever committed to tape. But it is a sad fact that many artists go through such an insecurity about their abilities and roles in the world that they use drugs to mask the problem. Recently, when asked who out of the new artists was making great music, Keith replied, “Amy Winehouse.” Keith obviously senses a kindred spirit but, like a rock ‘n’ roll grandfather, he did say she had to “get her act together.”

The other problem is that record companies seem interested only in selling records, not the welfare of their artists. In a highly competitive and corporate business, this situation is getting worse and worse. How much money has Britney Spears made for her record company? A lot, I reckon, but where were they when she was going insane, shaving her head in the gaze of the world’s media? Probably still counting the money from her continuing sales and cynically thankful for the free publicity. Talk about a rock and a hard place! The record company on one side and an increasingly aggressive media hounding these people on the other. In tabloid land. musical ability means absolutely nothing. Compare Amy and Posh Spice, now both competing in the same market for column inches. I am constantly staggered by the amount of magazines on the news stands devoted to the lives of celebrities. The huge  industry that has built up over the past few years is like a vampire sucking the life out of everyone, including the people who read this stuff. Here’s a world where fame rather than talent is the key to success. Why bother learning to play a guitar and write songs when you can be just as famous for, well, just being famous? Perhaps this is the worst addiction of all.

One thing that comes across in the Eric Clapton book is the fact that he could always go back to his music, whether playing or listening, and find himself. So come on Amy, for God’s sake: listen to those old songs that made you want to sing in the first place. Get some help from those who have your interests at heart, not their own, and get back to doing what you do best...making music.

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