Firstly I'd like to make a couple of things clear. This is not an
anti-Peel piece and I'm only putting forward a hypothesis not a firmly
held belief.
My theory is that John Peel's Godlike presence, perched atop the Radio
One mountain - like a slightly disgruntled, erasable Buddha - could have
been indirectly responsible for the deep rut that British Rock music has
sunk into over the past thirty years.
For this extraordinary length of time Peel represented the single most
important and assessable first foothold in the music business for a
certain kind of musician. Hundreds, if not thousands, of young bands
across the land have had one purpose in mind - to be played on John
Peel. Nay, to be loved by John Peel. So they would get hold of a
distortion peddle, learn a clutch of bar-chords and contrive the
appropriate attitude of two parts righteous anger to one part rock n'
roll heart. They would then distill these choice ingredients into a
covetable, nicely retro seven inch single, stick it in a jiffy bag and
thereby metaphorically prostrate themselves at the feet of their DJ God.
If they were lucky, and their offering caught the great DJ's ear, they
would then be invited to do a session at Peel Acres. Thus they would
have squeezed through the first small hole in the high wide wall of an
otherwise impenetrable music industry - The John Peel Show.
It's ironic that such bands, whose core aesthetic would have been the
rejection of the formularisations of mainstream pop, would have been
subconsciously conforming to an alternative template - to make something
fast and noisy to please Peely.
But even though 98% of these combos were never going to write another
'Teenage Kicks', it almost became part of Peel's self regulatory
manifesto, that he would give as many of them as possible their two
minutes and thirty seconds of fame.
I'm not writing this piece in any way to detract from the man's almighty
track record of giving early exposure to many great artists and bands
who later became household names. Bands who, realistically speaking,
might otherwise have never even seen the light of day. I just want to
point out what I perceive as an unhealthy codependency between a DJ and
the bands he played in the light of a music industry with very few other
outlets for such bands.
This relationship would be immeasurably beneficial for the band in the
short term but unhealthy for popular music in the long term.
The problem was twofold. Firstly it lay in dear Mr. Peel's passion for
thrashing punk/indi bands, which never seemed to dim. And secondly in
his admirable desire to keep up with the mountain of music that
threatened to swamp him in the chaos of his studio and home. Because he
would rarely play any record more than a few weeks old, because he
refused to revel in nostalgia apart from his Festive Fifty at the end of
the year, this in effect meant that younger listeners (made up partly of
the next generation of bands and would-be bands) were stuck in an
eternal present where they were only being exposed to their equally
young contemporaries - fellow young shoots blissfully ignorant of the
sturdy roots from which their music had sprung. Being influenced by
Franz Ferdinand or even Oasis does not a great band make!
It's ironic that it was Peel who first played Beefheart, Pink Floyd,
Bowie, Bolan, Roxy Music, The Smiths - the list is endless - yet he
stubbornly chose not to play these same artists, after the event, so he
could keep up with all the new stuff flooding in. By trying to keep up,
Peel deprived his impressionable listeners of exposure to their
substantial roots. For a band this was the equivalent of a would-be
novelist not reading any of the classics but expecting to produce a
great first novel. Musicians need some kind of musical education, even
if it's only from the radio. The common currency of three chord guitar
tunes, which most of us have had a weakness for at some point in our
lives, is an easy music to create. Or to put it another way - it doesn't
particularly stretch a guitarist to rehash the riff from 'Pretty
Vacant'. But if all a new band is hearing is other new bands at the same
level of non-development, with the same dearth of influences, the result
is going to be musical stasis.
But again, I must reiterate, I am not blaming Peel or these bands for
this state of affairs. The symbiotic relationship between a self
confessed eternal adolescent and a never ending stream of shabby young
men with Stratocasters is no different from the relationship between
those myriad tiny birds industriously picking bugs from the rugged
landscape of a giant hippo's back. It's just how things are.
In many ways The Peel Effect can be compared to Charles Saatchi's
influence in the UK's art world. It is now commonly excepted that every
bright-eyed artist at Chelsea or Goldsmiths has one overriding dream -
to have Charles in his Persil-white open-necked shirt come strolling
into their studio space offering to buy their whole degree show. So they
start churning out the pseudo reactionary, post pop art nonsense that
they believe will catch his eye. If you visit the new Saatchi Gallery -
tellingly a close neighbour of the Millennium Wheel - you'll see art
theme-parked - theatrically shocking rather than genuinely shocking.
It is meant to represent the current state of modern British art but in
reality it simply represents the narrow tastes and judgments of Nigella
Lawson's boyfriend
But of course Peel was a lovely bloke and would have, quite rightly,
recoiled at being compared to this smooth advertising executive. But I
do believe this comparison is a valid one. The fundamental difference is
that with Peel and his bands the currency was music and credibility
rather than unfeasible huge quantities of cash.
Peel was a curious mix of the sentimentalist and the revolutionary.
Therefore he remained, until the end, sentimentally attached to the
spirit of the Punk revolution he fully embraced in 1976. The arguable
fallout from this is that rock has stood still for nearly thirty years.
Yes Peel also played a smattering of Reggae and African music, but
whenever I tuned in - fifteen minutes or so was usually as much as I
could take - I would be optimistic hoping to hear something new and
surprising but would simply be subjected to a patience-testing noise. I
refuse to believe that it's simply a sign of growing older that I no
longer want to be aurally assaulted by music, but to listen to John Peel
became increasingly like an endurance test - a real test of one's
(heavy) mettle.
So in conclusion, all I'm saying is that if Peel is to be credited for
single-handedly keeping rock music alive for the past thirty years he
should also perhaps take some of the blame for inadvertently keeping it
stuck in a time warp.
But I'd like to end on a positive note. As Nick Cave said on 'Later' last
night - "He was one of the good ones."
And if exposure to countless combos of questionable talent is the price
we had to pay for the gift of a string of idiosyncratic talents who
might otherwise have never seen the light of a record company recording
studio, then it's a small price to pay.
