Pop music

Sacred cows

Marcus Berlunann

Warm days, hot nights: a time for home truths. 'Let's face it,' said my friend Boyd the other evening, holding a Fleet- wood Mac compilation I thought I had hid- den rather carefully on my shelves. 'Everyone says the old Peter Green records are great, and all the stuff after Stevie Nicks and the others joined in the mid-Sev- enties is crap. But it's not true, is it? Rumours is a superb album by any stan- dards. And some of the stuff they did after- wards was excellent. I've always had a soft spot for "Tusk": Needless to say, I was astonished. This is not what you say about Fleetwood Mac. In particular, this is not what you say about Fleetwood Mac when you are as cool as Boyd, who manages bands for a living and is very cool indeed. (It was Boyd who once told me that some- thing I had written in praise of the Electric Light Orchestra's Out Of The Blue was the most embarrassing piece he had read. Not just by me. The most embarrassing by any- one, ever.) But about this, at least, he was right. Fleetwood Mac's critical reputation, such as it is, still rests primarily on the dusty old blues records they made in the late 1960s when guitarist Peter Green was in charge. Green, who like many of his contempo- raries had taken far too many drugs, soon left, convinced he was being pursued by giant cigar-smoking anteaters or some such. The remaining members floundered for several years before recruiting Nicks and Lindsay Buckingham, after which they all became fantastically successful and obscenely rich, to the fury of rock critics worldwide. The consensus, as I remember it, was that they had 'sold out', which at the time was the most appalling thing you could say of anyone. Despite loads of ter- rific records over the years, Fleetwood Mac have never been forgiven. Boyd's assertion challenged all critical orthodoxy. We laughed nervously at his reckless courage.

Later I got to thinking. What are the sacred cows of pop music? What are the things that everyone thinks but no one says, for fear of looking uncool? Such fear can afflict music lovers well into middle age, and even beyond. What needs to be said, sometimes urgently? What are the hidden truths behind a million record collections?

• The Beatles. John may be everyone's favourite Beatle, and may win polls as the greatest singer/songwriter/pop star of the century. But most of us really prefer Paul's songs.

• The Rolling Stones. Keith Richards isn't that great a guitarist. Mick Jagger is clearly a very nasty piece of work. Ron Wood is one of the luckiest men in the world.

• Pink Floyd. It is probably just as well for everyone that Pink Floyd are no longer recording albums.

• Bruce Springsteen. His legendary live shows are twice as long as they need to be. After two hours or so everyone really wants to go home.

• Elton John. That wig looks ridiculous. He came out as gay, so why is it so difficult to come out as a baldy?

• Prince. It is well nigh impossible to listen to one of the little fellow's albums from beginning to end.

• Michael Jackson. Who's his make-up artist? That shade of lipstick really does nothing for him. • R.E.M. Only the two pop albums — Out Of Time and Automatic For The People — were any good. When Warner Bros paid $80 million for their next few albums, they were sold a pup.

• Bob Dylan. Still greatly esteemed by a crazed minority, although most of us gave up on him decades ago. Most likeable vocal performance: on 'We Are The World' by USA For Africa.

• Mick Hucicnall. Looks like Charlie Drake (this much not in doubt). All men are secretly jealous. We look like Charlie Drake too (or Tommy Cooper). So why can't we go out with Steffi Graf?

• Alanis Morrisette. Sorry about this, but we don't intend to buy any of your albums ever again.

• Blur. Everyone loved 'Song 2'. But most of the rest of their current output is tune- less garbage. Most of us preferred the chirpy faux-cockney stuff we're no longer supposed to like.

• Oasis. If their next album is as dreadful as the last, millions will be secretly delight- ed. Liam Gallagher is palpably one of the thickest people alive.

• Cher. Poor old thing. It's not fair, is it?

This merely scratches the surface, but at least it's a start. More Boydisms to come in future months; all suggestions gratefully received.