As a blond bombshell and a culture vulture (I say that in the nicest way possible), Deborah Harry directly set the tone for artists like Madonna and Gwen Stefani, who borrowed (and still borrow) from every subculture possible and transformed them into their own unique stew. Blondie, the band Harry fronted, was a new-wave band at heart, but the band’s hits ranged from four-on-the-floor disco (“Heart of Glass”) to reggae (“The Tide is High”). With 1980’s “Rapture”, however, Blondie became the first mainstream band to dip a pinky-toe in the burgeoning hip-hop phenomenon. With a shout out to a then-unknown party promoter named Fab Five Freddie and some endearingly clunky rhyming by Harry, “Rapture” bridged the gap between the downtown new wavers and the utpown B-girls and B-boys to become the very definition of a successful crossover. Nearly thirty years later, few songs have merged genres so respectfully and effectively.
Tag: Deborah Harry
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Infatueighties #55: Rapture
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The (Old) Boys of Summer
I had a disturbing realization last month. Disturbing, at least, from the point of view of a guy whose entire adolescent self-identity was wrapped up in the idea that he was ahead of the curve in all things pop music, that he could tell you with metronomic precision the Top 10 songs on the Billboard Hot 100 at any given moment (at a time when the Top 10 actually changed from week to week – and not just due to the latest event single). At the end of the summer, I’m looking back on the music I’ve purchased and listened to this year, and I’m finding that a disproportionate number of my favorite records of 2008 are by old farts.
Willie Nelson. Photo by Kjell Ove Hattrem. Now, I realize that as most people settle into their adulthoods and are faced with the imminent onset of middle age – dear god, I can already smell the despair-laced liquor and cigarette smoke at the hall of my 20 year high school reunion – with growing debt loads, and growing children with growing attitude problems, it’s perfectly natural for a guy to reassess his priorities away from discovering the hottest new pop thing. No offense, Katy Perry, but it’s perfectly natural, and even admirable, for a guy like me to spend his Sunday night watching an inspirational Disney movie on DVD with his kids and dogs rather than sequestering himself in his basement tracking the hit parade according to Seacrest. And as we settle into our cosy adulthoods, it’s perfectly natural to fall back on the favorites and golden oldies (like “Rock the Casbah”!) we grew up with.
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