You'll likely only be wincing at it if everything you know about The 1975 is by reputation: that they’ve got a fanbase rivalled only by One Direction (and they’re sort of The Rolling Stones to 1D’s less-edgy Beatles), and that their peacock of a singer says things in interviews that are so ridiculous that it seems the only media training he’s ever had involved meeting Noel Gallagher in a lift. Not just because its cover features a neon sign, and their nonsense title that would make any prog-lovin' Fiona Apple fan wince (seems as wry and silly as some of those Godspeed ones, to me). It's a killer paragraph that came to mind when listening to the second album by The 1975. Fame, this special kind, feeds itself on outrage, on what the counselors of lesser men would consider bad publicity - hysteria in limousines, knife fights in the audience, bizarre litigation, treachery, pandemonium and drugs."Īnd so begins Don Delillo's incredible novella Great Jones Street. Even if half-mad he is absorbed into the public's total madness even if fully rational, a bureaucrat in hell, a secret genius of survival, he is sure to be destroyed by the public's contempt for survivors. Understand the man who must inhabit these extreme regions, monstrous and vulval, damp with memories of violation. I mean danger, the edge of every void, the circumstance of one man imparting an erotic terror to the dreams of the republic. I mean true fame, a devouring neon, not the somber renown of waning statesmen or chinless kings.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |