Kylie

33⅓ Oceania #4

by Adrian Renzo

Kylie Minogue's self-titled debut album produced hits, controversy and a perfect mainstream storm. The then soap and children's television star 'crossed over' to music with hit writer/producers SAW - and the shamelessly commercial approach of all involved saw the 'real' music industry get its back up. This book interrogates the way that commercial pop albums are remembered in both the popular music press and in academic research. Is there a way of dealing with 'mainstream' pop without denigrating the music and (just as importantly) without validating it according to the terms of a 'high art' canon? This text sheds light on the way that notions of 'mainstream' and 'other' play out in a local context-specifically, Australia and New Zealand music on a global stage.

Genres: Musicals

132 pages, Kindle Edition

First published January 12, 2023

Reviews

[Sam Still Reading · Rating 4 out of 5]

Bloomsbury Academic have a music series appropriately named 33 1/3 which looks at important albums in the history of music whether it be culturally, musically or due to their lasting legacy. There is also an Australian offshoot of this series, Oceania, which studies Australian and New Zealand albums. Of course, the series would not be complete without a Kylie Minogue album. However, it’s not the album you might think like Impossible Princess or Light Years, but her debut album, Kylie. This was released on the hype of Minogue’s fame in the TV show Neighbours and started a trend of soap stars going into pop over the late eighties and nineties. (Think Jason Donovan, Craig McLachlan and Kylie’s little sister, Dannii just to name a few). As an avid consumer of this album (right down to knowing all the lyrics at one time), I was interested to know more.

Little did I know that as a kid, I was what the mainstream media felt was the target of this album. I kind of had a vague idea that Kylie was not to everyone’s taste (and as an adult with a preference for rock and indie, I actually find the original version of I Should Be So Lucky a bit grating. It definitely sounds better live.). I didn’t realise the open hatred for Minogue’s singing and musical career printed in national newspapers and her music ‘banned’ from commercial radio. (This was before the internet too). The authors of this book go in depth to describe what Australia was like at the time, politically and culturally. It makes me glad that I was oblivious at the time as it seemed that the Tall Poppy Syndrome was in full swing and the treatment of Minogue was generally pretty awful. It’s in sharp contrast to the national treasure that she is today.

The marketing of Minogue is also described in depth which shows the awkward spot she took in the spotlight. She was marketed as a girl, not as a sex symbol or woman. The connotations were that she wasn’t to be taken seriously (so much for feminism) and the media took this to heart. Fans were written off as too young to know better, or gay men. The book also covers Kylie’s gay icon status and how it was achieved. This links back into the disco era and also looking at the music made by Stock Aitken Waterman and how it reigned supreme in the 1980s. (There also some interesting revelations about Minogue’s status at Mushroom Records which was further infuriating to me as the low status given to young women in the music industry).

The book is just right to dip in and out of with a chapter here and there. Personally, I could have done with the ‘we will discuss this later’ sentences (gave me thesis vibes). Overall, this is much more eye opening and an in-depth analysis than I expected of the album in a good way. I’m proud of Minogue for overcoming these obstacles and sticking with her career, despite constant sidelining.

Thank you to Bloomsbury for the copy of this book. My review is honest.

http://samstillreading.wordpress.com

[Rich · Rating 4 out of 5]

I didn’t know that i knew Kylie Minogue until, when watching The Green Wing, Sue White, the bizarre HR rep, started taunting one of the doctors with “nah nah nah. Nah nah nah nah NAH.” Kylie firmly entered my psyche at that point. (And you KNOW you can hear it in your head.)

Since then I’ve imagined forming a synchronized “dance squad” of people for the Halloween parade to recreate the video for Can’t Get You Out of My Head. That and Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow.

Coincidentally, Kylie’s first hit, the Locomotion, was written by Carole King, the same genius who wrote Will You Still Love Me. Small world.

Two quotes from the book summed it up for me: someone not taking Kylie seriously because she used “shamelessly crowd-pleasing tactics” and the retort “yes, pop is palliative, but it stops us from cracking up just as much as it calms us down.” There’s nothing wrong with feeling good.

This album (on first listening while reading this book) reminded me of Erasure. It’s the BPMs… hard to resist. And the fact that gay men love it and none of them, not Kylie, not the men, want to really unpack why, sends a strong message: Listen to whatever makes you feel good and happy.

(I mean, a gay man was the reason I first heard Nina Hagen and Kate Bush, so I owe a megaton of gratitude.)

To quote Kylie about her appeal: “I don’t know and I kind of don’t want to know; do you really want to know how a magic trick happens?”

In this case, I’m okay with the unanswered question.

[David · Rating 4 out of 5]

A fun, enlightening and occasionally sweetly giddy analysis of Kylie’s first album and its cultural impact.