More on Kim Fowley
Here's an excerpt about Kim Fowley from Evelyn McDonnell's book Queens of Noise: The Real Story of the Runaways. It fleshes out his Dickensian childhood as well as a formative encounter with music biz hucksterism:
Kim’s mother married again, to musical arranger William Friml. Kim received his first music-biz lesson by listening through the walls as his stepfather worked with musicians to craft hits and careers. It was an education not in musical inspiration, talent development, and the frisson of collaboration, but in shrewd packaging and manipulation—the worst mass-culture nightmare of Theodor Adorno and the Frankfurt school.
And these two quotes portray him a pre-rock type, perhaps born a bit too
early, more comfortable in a world where songwriting duties were
atomized instead of clustered in the singer-songwriter:
Kim’s mother married again, to musical arranger William Friml. Kim received his first music-biz lesson by listening through the walls as his stepfather worked with musicians to craft hits and careers. It was an education not in musical inspiration, talent development, and the frisson of collaboration, but in shrewd packaging and manipulation—the worst mass-culture nightmare of Theodor Adorno and the Frankfurt school.
“The
client would come in and these guys would figure out ways around their
inabilities to sing and play and perform, and at the end of it they had a
package and would make thousands of dollars a week,” he recalls.
“That’s when I learned how to record attitude and arrange attitude, as
opposed to actually having musical talent. The Runaways, for example, as
a group were not great. They had strengths and weaknesses individually,
and I was always aware of what they couldn’t do musically, and I would
hide that from the audience, and then I would play on the things they
could do… I learned at a young age that not everybody who walks in the
doors is Caruso or somebody who’s going to be Al Jolson and stop the
show every night. Some of these people don’t deserve to be on a stage,
they don’t deserve to be on an album cover, but they have pretty faces,
or they can dance, or they can do something else, and then suddenly, it
becomes product...
Labels: Kim Fowley
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