Success Hasn’t Changed Me At All by Kevin Godley. From ‘The Fun Starts Here’.People, the music, and the business of rock and roll. And most of it figures outside the shadow of a doubt. The illustrations below are from that book ,banned from mainstream book shops….
When you look at the work of Godley and Creme, always lurking, is a direct confrontation with a significant issue which is how we relate to abuse in its direct and more subtle forms. In the case of the music biz, abuse is the vampirism by so-called professionals, well dressed and superficially polished. In real life, there are no shortage of examples, and the point of departure is to see it and understand it for what it actually is. Its all very Judeo-Christian to feel the necessity to love enemies, but don’t be pretentious enough to deny they don’t exist or are dangerous in their ability to harm. It’s tough to be impartial, without emotional numbing ourselves, and to achieve impartiality for short moments seems a major accomplishment. That struggle, that aspiration, the somewhat tenuous grasp is what makes Godley and Creme’s work compelling.
What is appealing about their work, is the emphatic articulation of disgust in all its naked vulgarity, its ugliness, its unprettified essence without any remorse, compromises or evasive tactics. Its not an indulgence in hated, a wanton mob lynching, simply an exposition of see and feel. Hardly pretty, but somehow touching, pulling threads of the divine in a thirst for truth and an acceptance, albeit painful, of hurt, while equally disparaging to those, perhaps as a path of least resistance, urge, preach, “love” as some accessible, off the shelf commodity like filling up at the ATM. In other words, avoiding the syrup and drivel.
Hooligan Crane GG2006:
He said I knew him
and I knew I did
but the face didn’t ring any bells.
There was something about the way he was standing
all thunderbolt hair
and gravy boat shoes
and an old school tie
I didn’t notice…
But It all came back when he took it off.
There were ten of them holding me down in the trough.
They took it in turns to
use my head as a football.
Oh, I was only nine and you were seventeen
when you gave me cancer of the dreams.
I was only nine but I didn’t cry
I was invincible
It’s written on the tie.
0896_10150130355873475_654653474_7846055_6808647_o-1024x808.jpg" alt="" width="512" height="404" />