There's a hitch, though. Unless an artist is skilled and savvy in their deployment of either object, the results can be disastrous.
For every scorching harmonica lick, like those in ZZ Top’s 1973 jam “Waitin’ for the Bus,” there are 17 squeak-fests, such as Alanis Morissette’s 1995 hit “Hand in My Pocket,” that sound like the artist just learned how to play the instrument or they’re repeatedly stepping on a children’s inflatable toy.
(The most recent entrant into harmonica infamy is The Who singer Roger Daltrey, who’s woeful honking during the band’s 2010 Super Bowl halftime performance was saved from being the musical nadir of all Super Bowls by the Black Eyed Peas’ cartoon-like performance the following year.)
Headbands entail a similar risk. It’s an accessory that can lift a musician’s “look” to icon status or doom them to being a perpetual pincushion for pop-culture snark - and the line between those two destinies can be a gossamer’s thread.
Jimi Hendrix
Unsatisfied with simply revolutionizing electric guitar, Jimi Hendrix also pioneered the use of headbands in rock. Of course, legend has it Hendrix would place a hit (or seven) of acid in between his forehead and gypsy-like headbands, thereby avoiding the labor-intensive common method of ingesting LSD - placing a tiny strip of paper in one’s mouth and swallowing. Or maybe the headband method of acid-taking allowed for a more gradual, less overwhelming consumption. Sort of the hippie-narcotic equivalent of those time-release, over-the-counter medications. Whatever his reasoning, if Hendrix did actually consume acid in this manner, then headbands should receive credit for playing a significant role in the most mind-blowing guitar solos ever.
See also: Andre 3000, MGMT’s Andrew VanWyngarden and various members of Jefferson Airplane.
The seafaring, swashbuckling, rum-guzzling pirates of the 18th century are known to have worn some form of headbands. And if there’s ever been a pirate in rock ‘n’ roll, it’s Keith Richards. Even at age 67, the Rolling Stones guitarist is as likely to be packing a knife and bottle as he is a Telecaster. Decades before actor Johnny Depp channeled Richards for his “Pirates of the Caribbean” role of Capt. Jack Sparrow, Keef was sporting headbands – he was definitely wearing them by the early-70s, as depicted in the harrowing bootleg Stones documentary “Cocksucker’s Blues.” Richards is also probably rock’s all-time leader in headband usage and remains loyal to the accessory to this very day, wearing them at everything from Rock And Roll Hall of Fame ceremonies to red-carpet film premieres to lunches with former president Bill Clinton.
See also: Aerosmith’s Steven Tyler and Joe Perry.
Things really started to go wrong for headbands in the early-80s. Bohemian looks of the previous two decades began to give way to an aerobics-instructor vibe, a regrettable turn best illustrated by vocalist Mike Reno of Loverboy, the pop-rock band who’s sterile-sounding hits, like “Working for the Weekend” and “Lovin’ Every Minute of It,” made Foreigner sound like the Sex Pistols by comparison. This might be partially explained by the fact Loverboy was from Canada. Or maybe it’s just that era has a lot to own up to, fashion- and music-wise. But seriously, if I type another sentence about Loverboy, it will be seconds I wish I had back when I’m on my deathbed.
See also: Mark Knopfler and “Born in the U.S.A.”-period Bruce Springsteen.
You probably know him as the cool-looking black dude wearing a Rising Sun headband and playing guitar in the music video for Prince’s 1982 hit “1999.” His name is Dez Dickerson. Without a doubt, the primary reason for Dickerson’s perceived coolness is that headband, although it didn’t hurt he got to sing a line in "1999" before Prince does : “When I woke up this morning I could have sworn it was Judgment Day.” (Wendy & Lisa, the sexy female keyboard duo in Prince’s then-band The Revolution, sung the tune's opening couplet.) But as intriguing as Dickerson’s Rising Sun headband was, the location of his audition for Prince was even more so: inside Del’s TireMart in Minneapolis after answering an ad in a local alt-weekly, the Twin Cities Reader, in January 1979.
See also: Motley Crue guitarist Mick Mars, circa “Shout At The Devil” (with an inverted pentagram substituted for Japanese imagery.)
Although Poison frontman Bret Michaels undoubtedly aped his trademark bandana from an infinitely superior singer (Axl Rose) from an infinitely superior mid-80s Los Angeles rock band (Guns N’ Roses), Michaels has pretty much become synonymous with this style. A dedicated performer who was back playing gigs weeks after suffering a 2010 brain hemorrhage, Michaels’ show-must-go-on mentality extends to his headband. During an interview with Oprah Winfrey, the always-affable Michaels was asked why (as photos that surfaced online revealed) he continued to wear his bandana throughout his medical crisis. Michaels’ response: “It’s like Superman without the cape.”
See also: Approximately 47 percent of the dudes who've played in Warrant, Cinderella, Ratt, L.A. Guns, Great White, etc.
Headbands and boy-bands seem like a marriage made in pop music heaven. But for the most part, they're severely underused within the idiom. It wasn’t always that way. Perhaps as a nod to his hardscrabble Boston roots, New Kids On The Block’s resident bad-boy Donnie Wahlberg made headbands a central aspect of his visual image. Wahlberg kept it real with a bandana, typically tied in a doo-rag configuration. While I’m reluctant to denote a boy-band singer as to having done anything remotely “rock ‘n’ roll” (besides bopping scads of teenage chicks), Wahlberg must be acknowledged for getting arrested in 1991 for pouring vodka on a Louisville, Ky. hotel’s carpet and setting it on fire.
See also: The doughy, less-famous members of Jonas Brothers and Nsync.
To ’90s white suburban youth, it might have appeared that rapper Tupac Shakur had appropriated his headband style from Aunt Gemima, the fictional female character used to promote a brand of pancake mix and syrup of the same name. This assumption would have been incorrect. Shakur’s tied-in-the-front bandana look was “popular with street gangs,” according to Urban Dictionary, which also notes bandanas “can be used as a weapon (strangle holding and whipping).” So in other words, don’t fuck with Bret Michaels! Although Shakur died tragically, after a 1996 Las Vegas drive-by shooting, his music continues to influence hip-hop. And so does his headband. MCs including Snoop Dogg, The Game and even couture-minded Jay-Z have been known to kick-it bandana-style.
See also: Nate Dogg and Eminem.
As musicians have become more environmentally conscious, so have their headbands. Surely this explains crossover-country star Taylor Swift’s minimalist number, which appears to have a much smaller carbon footprint than traditional headbands. Whatever you think of Swift as a vocalist, she writes many of her own songs and casts a positive influence on today’s tweens through her ecologically-sound approach to headbands. In Touch Weekly even held a contest to giveaway a copy of the circlet Swift wore onstage during an American Country Music Awards performance. A cleaner environment doesn’t always come cheap, though: according to In Touch, Swift's headband is valued at $165.
See also: Miley Cyrus.
No comments:
Post a Comment