FRANK
In 1959 Frank Sinatra recorded his great version of Cole Porter’s “What is this thing called Critical Theory?” 36 years later Peter Barry in this excellent book explains that it’s a network of ideas developed in the 60s, 70s and 80s which challenged the status quo of liberal humanism and made flesh that haunting phrase from Marx :
all that is solid melts into the air
Critical theory puts you wise. You thought you had an identity? That, like, you were a YOU? Guess again - you don’t. Sorry bout that. Yeah, I know. So many things you thought were absolute, you were such a sweet kid, but now you know they’re contingent. Stability is so 1950s. Things is tough all over. Definitions? Ungraspable. Dictionaries? Xeroxes of snapshots taken by whitewater canooists hurtling down the dangerous chasms of illusion and the flumes of fantasy called language. Disinterested intellectual inquiry? Common sense? Canons of great writers? You can kiss all that goodbye, that’s gone like jobs for life, like horseless carriages and divorceless marriages, they’re so gone it’s like they were never here. This is a relative universe. My name is Barthes. Come on in. it's okay, once you get used to it.
CILLA
A mere seven years after Frank’s profound statement of non-faith came Cilla Black (discovered as you all know working the cloak-room at The Cavern) singing “What’s it all about, Alfie?” She hadn’t at that point read Barthes, Saussure or Levi-Strauss or she would have changed this beautiful Bacharach/David song’s coda to “when you walk let linguistics and structuralism lead the way/And you may find love any day”. It would have been cheeky but so right.
ARETHA
So critical theory was at war with every previously accepted cultural concept, and also, having the courage of its convictions, it was at war with itself. In 1980 Aretha Franklin, one of popular music’s greatest post-structuralists, recorded “What a Fool Believes” which from the perspective of a dedicated follower of Jacques Lacan expertly lashed into the corny structuralist’s romantic conviction that meaning ultimately resides in scientific method and language – in verse three Aretha is pitiless about Barthes’ use of diagrams, for instance – and throughout the song her fearsome voice convinces even the casual listener that the signified must always escape the signifier.
FAB
You may think that after the terminal scepticism and playful despondency of the post-structuralists theory itself had nowhere to go, and we were left with endless Beatles revivalists singing “Paperback Derrida”
Sir or madam will you read his book
It took him years to write and it’s worth a look
"Of Grammatology" or "Counterpath"
They’re all heavy slogs but you wanna read a paperback Derrida
Paperback Derridaaaaaah
or Dave Davies’ classic “Lets all drink to the death of the author” or the Dixiecups’ weird celebration “Eco Eco”. But in 1991 the Spice Girls brought a real breath of fresh theoretical exploration as their giant hit “Who Do You Think You Are?” presented the world with a bracing three and a half minute tour round the complexities of post-colonialism and identity politics in general (that the flipside was yet another cunning Beatles revival “He’s Said, She’s Said” was in this case only apt.)
ZOMBIES! WHERE ARE THE ZOMBIES? WE HAVE TO HAVE ZOMBIES!
From Sinatra to the Spice Girls, from Levi-Strauss to Baudrillard – a hectic four decades which Peter Barry in this very smart book sums up with panache. You’ll be reaching for Youtube or Spotify or even Grooveshark constantly as Peter Barry infuses new meaning into old chestnuts like “She’s Not There” by the Zombies and “The Windmills of Your Mind” by Noel Harrison. (Note : Peter Barry is not related to John Barry who recorded the Bond theme. That would have been cute, but it isn’t true.)
Highly recommended.