A few days ago, I had a discussion with my friend, Tracy. As best recalled, it went something like this:
"Tracy, no one bought their records!"
"No one bought the Velvet Underground's records...."
"True, but the Velvet Underground doesn't have a proper film made in their honor"
"Yeah, but they should, right?"
"Definitely."
"Oh, but Nif...no one bought their records...right?"
This discussion stemmed from my distaste for the buzz that The Runaways film is getting. In an act of self righteousness, I turned down a free pass to an advance screening of the film, and then proceeded to find every outlet possible to back my decision to do so, despite no one caring, by vocalizing the fact that this band having a movie made about them is an outright travesty.
The thing is this, I'm probably not a sexist. If anything, on my most genuine of days, I'm more of a feminist than anything. And I'm not talking the liberal guilt drenched male feminist, who throws some money at a few causes so that I can sleep at night, while ignoring the fact that my wife/girlfriend is conforming to the gender roles that I should be working to break down. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm not a chest thumping feminist in the way that Ani DiFranco is. But, if you're aligning my beliefs, I'm there. I say that to say this...don't be misguided by my distaste for the making of this film, and think that it has to do with women in rock getting recognition. It also needs to be taken with a grain of salt, because I wasn't alive in 1975, no matter how much I wanted to be. That said, I'm confident in two things, and two things only: 1.) That I made an OUTSTANDING Jules Winnfield this past Halloween, and 2.) That I know a little bit about music. I don't spend time debating pointless shit in record shops while scouring for b-sides that don't matter just because it's cool. (I know it IS kind of cool, but that's besides the point.)...I kind of know my stuff.
So, my point is this, I don't even care that much that The Runaways were crap musicians. I kind of don't even care that no one bought their records, or that they never had anything other than probably a marginal album (Queens Of Noise), and a sub-marginal hit, that at best was of minor aesthetic importance ("Cherry Bomb") None of those things, standing alone, bother me....my problem is that they're not standing alone. And this entire film, all that I know of their career, and everything else behind the band...it was never about music. Look, in a perfect world, for me, sex wouldn't sell a damn thing. You would get by off of the merits of your ability. But, I've come to understand that sex DOES sell, moreover, I understand WHY it sells. And it's why we had Britney Spears dressed as a schoolgirl before her first album even came out, why Madonna is still relevant (sometimes), and why in 1975, it made sense to sign 5 teenage girls, playing music in a male dominated genre, doll them up a bit, strip them down a lot, and throw them on stage in front of a bunch of male fans. It's no more of a gimmick than the Sex Pistols were. (Ironically, Pistols Steve Jones and Paul Cook did production work on Joan Jett's first solo record.) And the Pistols were possibly just as dumb of a gimmick, but man, at least they sold RECORDS, right? The Pistols were a well managed gimmick, the Runaways? I mean, I'll take Malcom McLaren over Kim Fowley any day of the week. And I'm saying all of this kind of loving, or at worst respecting, the parts of this thing. Joan Jett is a major...MAJOR badass. I love her solo stuff, I love her indie spirit, carving out her own label when no one else would sign her. I at least LIKE Lita Ford sometimes, and I even own a shirt with Micki Steele on it....of course it's a Bangles shirt (Steele joined the Bangles after leaving the Runaways), which I mostly own because Susanna Hoffs is on it, and she's good looking. (I mean, I hope that my pointing out the obvious doesn't fall in line with objectifying this marginal musician. I'm not sexist, take 2.)...but I can't look at the career of a band that was signed as a gimmick, and then only lasted REALLY about 3 years as something film-worthy. Not when they didn't make mainstream impact. Not when the highest they ever made it on the charts was (ready?) #172. Not when their bass player was so bad, that Nigel Harrison (from Blondie) had to play the bass parts on the first 2 records. Not when I watch videos of them now, and I see Cherie Currie writhing around on stage, not really singing, but moaning, while wearing lingerie. Then it's not about music, it's not about impact, it's about sex, and milking these 16 and 17 year olds for all of it. And that's not cool, it's not right, and I thank God that they wised up, or at least Currie and Jett did, and got out of that deal.
Tracy, she of the argument that this movie is perfectly warranted, insisted that I read the book Neon Angels, which is the Cherie Currie's book that this film is loosely based off of. I actually have owned it since 2007, so I did read it. And it read like every live fast, die young rock story I've ever read. Except it made me sadder. Because these were girls that were taken advantage of, by just disgraceful industry men, when they really thought they were taking the world by storm. So, in essence, they were taken down by the very thing they were marketed to be rebelling against. And now we've got Kristen Stewart and Dakota Fanning playing this out on the big screen, and I can't help but feel like people are going to miss the point.
Plus, I mean, if we're making movies about bands that didn't sell shit, why NOT The Velvets? Am I that wrong in that?
(I could very well be horribly wrong on all of this. I must state again, that I wasn't born in 1975.)
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