— Miranda Sawyer
The concert didn't get off to a great start. Coming on stage at approximately 9:00 PM, Billy Bragg didn't appear keen to be there for long. He zipped through a handful of numbers, not even pausing for between-song banter. His nibs looked distracted and his rather sloppy performance indicated that he didn't care. Then, a heckler emerged to save the show.
"These people aren't your fans", he shouted. "They're on your bandwagon."
Bragg didn't respond much at first. He simply kept on playing. But the disturber in the crowd wasn't going to let himself be ignored. With each number, our friend in the audience found a way to be offended. If Bragg played something from the recent Mermaid Avenue project, the heckler accused him of commercial pandering; if he played an old favourite, he'd sulk that the rest of us weren't around when they first came out. And, he demanded, what were these people doing dancing at a Billy Bragg concert?
"They can dance if they want to," replied Billy. "They can talk if they want to. This concert's for them".
The crowd roared with approval. At last audience and performer were seeing eye-to-eye. Bragg's patience eventually evaporated and the heckler was forcibly shown the door. His solo acoustic set ended well; after a short break, he was back out with his band The Blokes and they proceeded to tear the house down. What had started off as a by numbers show had come to a close with everyone looking pleased with themselves.
After the show ended, I went down to the campus pub with my friend Tasya. As she proudly looked at the copy of the setlist that she snagged from the stage, I sipped at my pint and wondered why anyone would shell out twenty bucks just to roast a supposedly favourite singer. Didn't he have anything better to do? What did he think he was achieving? And what was he doing at a Billy Bragg concert to begin with?
I had been a fan for about seven years at that point. It started off with "Sexuality". At first, I was into the catchy tune and I dug the video, particularly the bit in which he covers the first two letters of the sign for 'ESSEX' with 'SAFE' and 'NO'. I've always been a sucker for sunshine indie pop because of course I am. It was the song's message that resonated with me most though. Having been ostracized by a small group of so-called friends the previous year, it was welcoming to have a singer accept me for who I am.
Gay? No, I'm not that way inclined. But the fact that these people had a problem with it seemed to be reason enough to be rid of them. Even if I happened to be gay, what the hell was it to them? No matter my sexual orientation, I didn't deserve their harassment.
Luckily pop music wasn't going to turn its back on me. My modest collection of tapes had no interest in judging me, even if none of them were up to tackling my current state of angst. I was then listening to Pet Shop Boys and Erasure, groups with strong LGBTQ connections but they weren't in the business of addressing straight fans who were being wrongly outed at school. Few, if any, are.
Billy Bragg wasn't even addressing my predicament in "Sexuality" but that's how I chose to take it. Being sex-positive meant that it was all good, something I was already aware of, but I needed to hear someone state it. "Just because you're gay", Billy sang, "I won't turn you away": here was someone who was going to accept me no matter what, so to hell with those losers at school.
Bragg's 1991 album Don't Try This at Home has often been labelled as an attempt to make him into a proper pop star. With a full band, a selection of big name guests and goofy videos, it seemed like Go! Discs was finally going to cash in on their long term investment. To an extent this worked out: the LP sold well and some new fans had come on board. But to deal with gay pride was bound to be a risky chart proposition. "Sexuality" only barely outperformed his last real hit "Levi Stubbs' Tears" when it had all the elements to possibly take him into the Top 10. If Go! figured they had a new pop star in the works, their protegee wasn't about to make it easy for them.
It was on a summer's night in 1998 that a lanky individual in his late-twenties went to a Billy Bragg concert. He was probably a decent enough fellow. I'm sure he could be a nice guy with progressive ideals that dovetailed with most of us who go to see the Bard of Barking. The only trouble was, he figured he owned a piece of Billy and could dictate just how he wanted him to be. He tried to stick around but he didn't allow himself much common ground, something you need to have if you wish to be a real fan of his.
~~~~~
Also Reviewed This Fortnight
Cathy Dennis: "Just Another Dream"
Miranda Sawyer describes this fortnight's also-rans as a "sorry troupe" and she couldn't be more correct. Alongside a down the dumper Bros and Martika, there's a bevy of no-names. 35 Summers, The Party, Subsonic 2, Paul Varney: not exactly a bumper crop of stars. (Dannii Minogue also appears but at least she was something of a hit maker, even if her singles were on the duff side as well) Cathy Dennis seems like a big name only she wasn't terribly big in her homeland despite a string of early-nineties hits in North America. I thought she was really good at the time though I wonder quite what I saw in her at the time. Her voice seemed really good then but, as Sawyer states, she struggles with a "nasely squeak". The song itself is nothing special either: Dennis would go on to compose far better pop songs a decade later but that's no reason to be curious about her own brief career as a starlet. Lousy and yet probably the second best new release this fortnight. The world of pop was entering a sorry state indeed.
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