"Jean Genie lives on his back, loves chimney stacks…." So sayeth David Bowie in his 70s ode to Jean genet -the French fag parlor trick who who spent his years in prison getting butt fucked and writing novels on toilet paper and having them snuck out of jail and published in the gay underground before being discovered and lionized as a French literary giant. or is that Iggy Pop? Either way I am thinking about Jean Genet last Saturday morning. The night before Springsteen at MSG had ended at 1130ish and I'd gone home, written my review and caught a coupla hours sleep before heading to La Guardia to catch a plane to Orlando for the weekend.
Too tired to turn on Spotify, I close my eyes and wait for boarding when… Bowie's "Jean Genet" is blaring from the speakers.
I realize that what were once vices are now habits and I really don't mind at all, but I am surprised that the folks who program Delta Entertainment are playing hardcore gay odes over the terminal.
With nothing much else to do, I close my eyes again and try to concentrate on the sound of music and what I find is… 1970s rock ala Sirius FM. After Bowie, it is casually lousy. A string arrangement of the Eagles, a band I don't recognize, a Cure near hit from the mid 1980s. I keep on popping up my head and trying to connect the dots but I don't quite see the. The question is: what do you want your harried travellers to do before they ride into the sunset? The options are awful limited. essentially, shop or eat. SO what will put them in a calmed frame of mind? Muzak. Music that demands no reciprecation from the audience.
But how does "Jean Genie" fit in?
Glad you asked… time fits it in. So much time has past that not only doesn't Bowie shock, he doesn't quite register. It got through because nobody noticed. It is not dissimilar to the sentiments Regina wrong about on "All The Rowboats". Hard rock in 1973 did not have the type of beats we expect in 2012 even from rock, the lyric is discrete enough to work through implication and the it is just so far away that if you don't concentrate you'll miss it entirely.
As I board the plane "Your Sing" is playing. What were once habits are now vices.