Sunday 24 November 2019

Bed Of Thorns



Kontact 7 / 2016 Pledge Demo

Demo Version

Live 2016 - Debut

Album Version

Live 2017

Live 2018

Live with the Skaparis Orchestra 2018

“Because he is a very suspicious person, Gary Numan is inclined to say very little about himself to complete strangers. Because he is a very honest person, what he does say can be believed.” - Gary Numan, 1980 Yearbook

“I got to meet so many people and to hear what they liked and, once or twice, what they didn’t … It’s nice to meet people who have my own interests at heart. Your ideas are often informed and educated, sometimes they are a little naive but at least they are always well-meaning and I am grateful for them as I am for so many other things that you do. I enjoy talking to you. Don’t be frightened of me. If you see me, talk to me.” 
- Gary Numan, 1993 Yearbook

Hiding From The World

In 2013, actor and co-star of cult film ‘The Room’ Greg Sestero released the book ‘The Disaster Artist’. In it, he interspersed scenes of a filming process wracked with bizarre and entertaining narrative twists primarily caused by lead actor, writer, director and producer Tommy Wiseau with his and Wiseau’s early attempts to make it in Hollywood. From filming the crew and scouring the footage for signs of insubordination under the guise of creating a documentary to providing a $6 million dollar budget by allegedly selling leather jackets to South Korea, the production process was arguably more entertaining than the finished product.

Upon its release in a single Los Angeles theatre, ‘The Room’ grossed little over $1,600 and would gain notoriety for being a rare piece of exquisitely naff cinema. Plot points arrived and departed from the script as if in a revolving door and characters changed their entire motivations mid-scene. In a tense exchange, an apparently intoxicated Mark attempts to throw his friend Peter off a rooftop for a few seconds before giving up and mumbling an apology. 

‘The Room’ is a complete outsider’s understanding of dramatic and comedic devices and grew to become one of the twenty-first century’s most enduring cult hits. 
True, ’Apocalypse Now’ and ‘The Shining’ spawned their own feature-length documentaries into their own geneses, part infomercial, part self-expose. 
But these were canonised pieces of cinema with the documentaries coming years or decades after their release and reissues. ‘The Room’ wasn’t a critical or commercial smash but seeped into the public consciousness via word of mouth likely helped by the internet.
In a further ironic twist, Sestero’s book was then adapted into one of the most critically-acclaimed films of 2017.
The idea is pure capitalism in motion; when you can no longer sell the product, you turn the process into the product and sell that instead.

By the 2010s, the record industry finally caught up to this trend. As physical sales continue to diminish and companies increasingly rely upon reissues and box sets to shift units artists have taken more of the promotional cycle into their own hands taking the performance beyond the stage and interview rooms. 

Musicians can now become their own sales representatives and give fans a greater insight into their creative process. This has the potential to allow an artist to achieve an intimacy beyond the exclusivity of meet-and-greets or ambushing your favourite artists on the street. On the other hand, granting such accessibility to one’s own state of mind risks subsuming the art with the more enticing narrative of the artist's private life.
Enthusiasm for Kanye West’s 2019 album ‘Jesus Is King’ was steadily eroded by an extended public meltdown full of false starts (the album was originally entitled ‘Yandhi’ and missed several planned release dates), controversial social media posts, almost half an hour’s worth of ‘Yandhi’ demos leaking online and West’s re-emegence as a born-again Christian. 
In the midst of this, the final album was released to a less than stellar reception with the general consensus indicating that ‘Jesus Is King’ was not worth the wait.

Trapped By My Ambition

In 1992 Gary Numan opened telephone lines for fans to hear demo versions of new tracks, often receiving “brutally honest” feedback and held competitions and events such as karting and paintball. This level of interaction allowed fans to get to know the ‘real’ person behind the artistry but at the same time risked devaluing the brand by stripping away the mystique. People both wish to feel they know their heroes and yet never meet them. 
Autobiographies, interviews and press cuttings all offer the equivalent of a sapling cut from the main trunk being marketed as the original plant. 
My own impression of Gary Numan as a person is likely nowhere near the reality being filtered through my impression of him as an artist, through my own fandom and interpretations of his movements. Although I own a great deal of his music and related media and have seen him perform live on multiple occasions, I have never met him and am doubtful I ever will. How does one measure their worth as a fan nowadays?
Regardless, these gatherings would soon end, it seemed better to remain unknowable, “I was becoming too accessible … I knew it was time to back away when people started to call me ‘Gaz, mate.’” 
The internet has allowed the boundaries between personal and professional relationships to blur further. The President can affect Wall Street stocks with an ill-timed morning tweet session, a prospective employer can field candidates through their newsfeed and hackers can potentially leak anything from some unreleased Kanye West tracks to a film star’s nudes.
As social media continues its ascent, Numan’s approach remained unchanged, “It’s a self-protection thing. You know, don’t read any of it because it will fucking ruin your day.”

And for all the hype about intimacy, the updates remained fairly distanced, dignified. The campaigns were after all another part of the process. One wouldn’t expect a session of drug-taking or nervous breakdowns to be broadcast to a paying audience. Demo snippets would be played, rough plans would be dispensed alongside general information about the recording process. Of course these were never really first drafts, when one brings in drafts for evaluation they have more often than not scrutinised the pieces themselves before shopping around for feedback.
The Pledge Music and Making Music campaigns documented a fresh new way artists could attract vitriol, the wonders of the internet.
In 2019, Numan’s Patreon project ‘Ghost Nation’ would emerge as a further extension of the idea of offering increased interaction without necessarily stripping away the mystique of the artist. A digital subscription for news letters, updates and exclusives controlled and dispensed by the artist themselves behind a paywall. Where streaming provides a base subscription, maybe providing specialised services is the future of cult artists.
Naturally the question of exploiting fandom remains, and as the industry continues to play catchup to the changing technological landscape it will remain unanswered for some time.


Bed Of Thorns

Fame and celebrity, particularly the negative downsides are rich veins for musicians to mine, for publishers, for pretty much any artist.
As early as 1977, Gary Numan was using feedback as a muse in itself with ‘Critics’ (“What will you make of my lines / what will you think I’ve said / what hidden secrets will you say are in my head”) By 1980 he was getting hits for doing so with ‘I Die: You Die’ and ‘We Are Glass’. By the decade’s end, this bitter undercurrent had all but subsumed his music.  
During the nineties, Numan would reduce the focus on pointing fingers at the press and delve into more introspective fare to greater success. 

‘Bed Of Thorns’ marks a partial return to this vein of inspiration, albeit from a different position. 
Where Numan’s honesty and reluctance to embellish in interviews made him the subject of derision and mockery at first, it has ended up granting him relatively good standing in a mediascape where authenticity has now become the highest form of currency. 
Gary Numan’s reputation has been largely restored amongst his peers, while 2013’s album ‘Splinter’ became his most successful release for over thirty years. ‘Bed Of Thorns’ isn’t a rant about Radio One married to a pop-ready instrumentals in the hope of radio play, the world the song is birthed into is not the realm of ‘Are “Friends” Electric?’; the charts are separated by genre, singles are distributed over the internet and music is the equivalent of running water in households. 

The Pledge Campaign provided a new kind of trap, a way for Numan to potentially become ridiculous again. In light of the industry Pledge was another short term shot in the arm to a mutilated market. When you willingly place yourself in the public eye to be examined during production how much will this affect the final product? What if you can’t work up the goods?
‘Bed Of Thorns’ addresses writer’s block quite directly in the light of expectations for new product. Sometimes too literally with the odd clunky line (“I’m waiting in the dark / waiting for a dark light”) aside.

Being the first completed track and lyric ’Bed Of Thorns’ has the loosest lyrical ties to the ‘Savage’ concept; allusions to “walking through the dust" fit in closest with the apocalyptic theme. The chorus lyric is a typically soaring Numan work at this point.
The demo is naturally a fairly bare recoding, largely being Gary’s vocal take and a tolling synth preset courtesy of the Kontakt keyboard, hence the working title although much of the latter was later replaced with Ade Fenton’s production. One holdover was an Arabian vocal patch courtesy of the Ethno 2’s sound stores, the first of ‘Savage’s more obvious eastern influences. 
We cling to memories as if they define us, but... they really don't. What we do is what defines us. - Dr. Ouelet, Ghost In The Shell (2017)
This demo was the first commercial release from the ‘Savage’ sessions, featuring on the soundtrack album for 2017’s ill-fated remake of ‘Ghost In The Shell’. Although surprised by the studio’s enthusiasm for an unfinished track, (“I was like, “that’s just a demo!”. I did it in about two days, and they wanted to put that version out!”) the track was an appropriate choice and fitted the film’s themes of questioning reality and identity.

Nestled between the curtain-raiser ‘Ghost Nation’ and lead single ‘My Name Is Ruin’, ‘Bed Of Thorns’ was a fitting second track that displayed the eastern influences of the cover and provided a slight breather to listeners. Riddled with admissions “there is always someone /better than the past” of his own limitations, ‘Bed Of Thorns’ is also defiant, the audience is booing and throwing missiles so the comedian reminds them they’re not the only act in town. You think you can do better? Go for it.

‘Bed Of Thorns’ comes from an artist with little left to prove who has willingly placed themselves back in the firing line. The final refrains become nonchalant, a taunt. 
“You’re welcome”, for the support, for the vitriol, whatever. As Gary once sang almost forty years ago, “replay ‘The End’ / It’s all just show.” ‘Bed Of Thorns’ is certainly a part of this show, albeit one that cuts a little closer to the bone than others.

Top: ‘Les pampilles de fin d’hiver’ by Isabelle Blanchemain, 2016. Picture is public domain.

Bottom: Scarlett Johansson in ‘Ghost In The Shell’, directed by  Rupert Sanders and distributed by Paramount Pictures, 2017.

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