Musicals get a bad press. I'm not sure why... talented dancers: check, talented singers: check, talented musicians: check. What's not to like? Cheese is what's not to like. The saccharine, wholesome, moral, dare I say it - Americanistic feel good musical where everyone lives happily ever after and is all very glee (with a capital and a little 'g').
I love musicals. Or rather, I love musicals that make you think and feel and react emotionally. Musicals that affect you and stay with you. Musicals you return to time and time again long after you've left the confines of your velvet seat in row F on the balcony floor.
I'm happy to say American Idiot had that reaction from me on Saturday night. Writing a rock opera (to give it it's deserved proper title) is a fucking hard thing to do. That's why American Idiot is only the fourth recognised one ever to be penned*. Tommy and Quadrophenia being two of my very favourite musical creations ever dreamt up, for me, Green Day had some fairly major boots to fill.
They also faced a fair amount of public speculation how technically good it could be in terms of musicality etc given that they are a punk band, and the age old misapprehension that punk is not a musical genre that is 'good enough' to be taken seriously on the same stage that has been home to masterpieces of the likes of Lord Andrew Lloyd Webber. Being a long term punk fan, and a die hard defender of the importance of the punk genre, and that it's not an angry white man shouting over the same three chords and a five piece drum kit, I wanted Green Day to prove the disbelievers to be wrong once and for all. Having said that, the last thing I wanted was for them to stop being true to their punk roots and be a band for the masses. Punk is and always should be a niche in my opinion.
I wasn't expecting much from them then!... for some people who weren't Green Day to do justice to performing Green Day songs (a favourite band for half my life), to live up to my love for other rock opera's, and to balance on that thin line between being understood and embraced by the masses whilst also still being a punk performance through and through.
American Idiot is a clever, clever concept. It chronicles the life of Jesus of Suburbia and his two friends, disillusioned with the mundane sameness and stifled by their life in American suburbia, and what happens when they attempt to break free. Each character has a choice, follow rage or follow love... journeys which brings them face to face with the great American dream, terror, love, passion, sex, drug addiction, music, suicide, friendship, desperation, glory, regret, parenthood, loneliness, death and life. Subjects like these could have a musical each, it could have gone hideously wrong by trying to incorporate them all in less than two hours of music. Billie Joe pulled it off though. Written in the wake of 9/11, nobody could have blamed him for creating an openly scathing attack on the American government and the decision to go to war in the middle east. Instead he turned this around and made it about the everyman. He looked at why people were signing up for a war nobody believed in, at what was causing people to want to break free, about why swathes of the world were/are so anti-American. In short, the impact on you and me.
To return to the nuances of the musical itself: the first act was angry, it was punchy, it set the scene - for the most part despite the dissatisfaction and disaffection felt by the main trio, it was a glamorous feeling world that was pulling me in, making me want to walk away from my safe job and safe flat and look for something more than all of this. (not a feeling I'm unfamiliar with, but that's for another time). The second half took the power to a whole other place. It was heart breaking, desolate, hopeful, desperate, humbling, angering and empowering all at once. I know the American Idiot album very well and love it. I wanted to feel it on another level though. I wanted to feel about American Idiot how I've felt when I've been to see Tommy - despite knowing every word, each time I've seen Tommy I've felt it in every nerve and every sensory organ in my body. That is what I wanted from American Idiot on Saturday night. And I'm happy to say that's what I got.
*This is a controversial statement to write, it can and has been argued that Pink Floyd's 'The Wall' and David Bowie's 'Ziggy Stardust & The Spiders From Mars' are just two more examples of a rock opera. For reasons I won't go into now, I happen to disagree with this statement. Maybe another blog entry for another time.
You Say Goodbye And I Say Hello
Young people today are in the midst of a sociologist's dream - watching the impact of growing up with social networking in our lives. You could debate for hours about whether or not it's ultimately a good thing for our young people - indeed, having spent the last year working with those being sexually exploited and seeing the part it plays in their lives, I could argue a pretty solid case against it for hours.
I'm one of many who have voiced the concern that in many ways it hinders communication - proper communication where you take the time to pen a letter or to pick up a phone, or meet someone for coffee and properly converse one on one sans distraction. I know what pretty much everyone I went to school with is doing, despite not having spoken to most of them in 14 years and actually not really caring that much either.
Today was different though. Today social networking meant I reconnected with someone I lost touch with around 12 years ago and it's been ace. Someone I follow on Twitter, and am friends with on Facebook, and actually I do see in the human form from time to time happened to retweet something posted by this person I'd lost touch with. I did a little Twitter stalking to check it was the person I believed him to be, and then when discovering it was, I tweeted him. (as an aside, the person who'd retweeted him and he don't actually know each other, just my old friend is in the music industry and has many many followers). Thus ensued an evening of catch up tweeting, ending with promises from both parties to meet up next time he's home.
Tonight was a reminder of the genuinely innocent goodness that social networks can bring - the re-kindling of old friendships that bring a smile and a bounce of step. So thanks JB for retweeting a strangers comment about liking tea, you made my day!
What's in a name?
One of my volunteer jobs is as a group therapist for transgender people who are in their transition from one gender to another. There seems to be a choice made by the group members in terms of names - either to go for one rather distinctive and flamboyant or something that is the complete epitome of 'normal'. I guess that's got something to do with those wanting to just fit in and pass happily as their destination gender, or those embracing the 'trans' and enjoying the fact they get to create who they are and what they are.
This led on to a conversation with Mum about my name. It's an unusual name, I've heard of a couple of other people with my name but have never met anyone face to face. I hated it through school life - it was a source of teasing and bullying, it was mispronounced by teachers and pupils, and was just too odd when coupled with a distinctive surname and being someone who wanted to blend into the background. Since 16 I've introduced myself with a shortened version of it - nobody in my professional life identifies me as anything else, and for the most part they don't know my full name. And I like that, I like that I have part of my life which is separate and not impinged on my work.
Last weekend I had some new friends come to stay, and although the first time they met me was this time last year, they know me as my full name because they met me through an old friend. I actually loved that they called me my proper name. I loved the sense of familiarity it gave, and how comfortable I felt with them as a result - that obviously has a lot to do with that they are beautiful people, but it's more than that, it's a follow through of the person we have in common and everything that I feel in terms of him and our friendship. I'd not thought before if I feel different to people who know me as full name instead of part name. Maybe it's because there's a distinction of the fact that largely they are pre or post the school/college divide. I'm not sure. My part name is something about me beginning to find who I am in the world and creating my own sense of identity. My changing attitude towards my full name may be indicative of my personal journey - that having run away from me and trying to make a new me, I've learnt to accept the me I am and to build on that instead. I don't want to cut off the person who identifies to my full name, I'm embracing her instead.
I always liked the idea of changing my name - having something really bohemian and out there - Skylark or something equally as bizarre. But actually, right here right now, I'm beginning to embrace my name again and everything it does and doesn't stand for. I wouldn't change it for anything.
This led on to a conversation with Mum about my name. It's an unusual name, I've heard of a couple of other people with my name but have never met anyone face to face. I hated it through school life - it was a source of teasing and bullying, it was mispronounced by teachers and pupils, and was just too odd when coupled with a distinctive surname and being someone who wanted to blend into the background. Since 16 I've introduced myself with a shortened version of it - nobody in my professional life identifies me as anything else, and for the most part they don't know my full name. And I like that, I like that I have part of my life which is separate and not impinged on my work.
Last weekend I had some new friends come to stay, and although the first time they met me was this time last year, they know me as my full name because they met me through an old friend. I actually loved that they called me my proper name. I loved the sense of familiarity it gave, and how comfortable I felt with them as a result - that obviously has a lot to do with that they are beautiful people, but it's more than that, it's a follow through of the person we have in common and everything that I feel in terms of him and our friendship. I'd not thought before if I feel different to people who know me as full name instead of part name. Maybe it's because there's a distinction of the fact that largely they are pre or post the school/college divide. I'm not sure. My part name is something about me beginning to find who I am in the world and creating my own sense of identity. My changing attitude towards my full name may be indicative of my personal journey - that having run away from me and trying to make a new me, I've learnt to accept the me I am and to build on that instead. I don't want to cut off the person who identifies to my full name, I'm embracing her instead.
I always liked the idea of changing my name - having something really bohemian and out there - Skylark or something equally as bizarre. But actually, right here right now, I'm beginning to embrace my name again and everything it does and doesn't stand for. I wouldn't change it for anything.
For the last 10 years on 12th February I've bought a bunch of flowers. I didn't today. I feel awful for that. Eleven years ago today my grandma died, she loved flowers so much, so each year I buy a bunch of flowers in her memory. Except not this year. I remembered a couple of days ago, and then remembered an hour ago so ran to the village shops to get some, but they didn't have any. I feel like I've let her down, I feel sad in my heart.
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