The Cake Of Liberty

Hedonism &&& Nihilism

“Get your teeth into a small slice
The cake of liberty”

Ian Dury and the Blockheads were insanely funky. Like James Brown refracted through Music Hall. Dury’s literate, profane singing draped over the rhythms that are by turns lithe and angular.

When he sang about Sex & Drugs & Rock & Roll in late 70s Britain, Dury was a spicy condiment in an otherwise boring and anhedonic world. Blockheads songs wouldn’t work in a world of Sadean excess. The UK P-Funk are seeking to dance their way out of constriction. But with no constriction, there would be no dancing.

Ten years later, Guns & Roses (so many ampersands in this post) unleashed themselves into a world without constrictions (how 80s). While Dury was less sexy than dirty (although dirty can be sexy), Axl Rose was insanely hot. And while G&R may be on the take, they didn’t give a fuck. They didn’t just want a small slice of the cake of liberty, they wanted the whole goddamn thing - esp. the icing. Every child knows that a cupcake is just an icing delivery system. Who knows, G&R may even have cut their icing sugar with heroin and cocaine.

Appetite for Destruction is perhaps the most thrillingly nihilistic album ever committed (to vinyl, rehab, etc). And this destruction isn’t particularly targeted. There is plenty of collateral damage in G&R land. Selfish, paranoid, greedy, horny, abusive, violent, sentimental. G&R embody the worst aspects of addiction while still making utterly compelling music.

The album title itself comes from a 1978 painting by counter-cultural cartoonist Robt. Williams (which was supposed to be the cover art until too many people complained). I don’t know if Williams read any EM Cioran. I doubt G&R ever did.

“The appetite for destruction is so deeply anchored within us that no one manages to extirpate it.”

“[Y]ou have often reproached me for what you call my “appetite for destruction.” You should know that I destroy nothing: I record, I record the imminent, the thirst of a world which is canceling itself out and which, upon the wreck of its appearances, races toward the unknown and the incommensurable, toward a spasmodic style”

Emil Cioran was a Romanian novelist and philosopher and nihilist who repeatedly referred to the destructive urges that drive human nature. I doubt Cioran would have gotten along with G&R (Susan Sontag described him as “delicate”) but his work shares with them a nihilistic acceptance of dissipation. They have both gazed into the abyss and comforted to find the abyss gazing back at them, waving its lighter in the air during “Oh Sweet Child Of Mine”. The outcomes are not exactly what you would call fun.

And where G&R end isn’t fun. Hedonism can only get you so far before it ends up in a grim hamster wheel of partially (but never fully) satisfied desires. I am glad that G&R’s debut album exists. But as a cheap holiday is other people’s depravity.

I’ll take a small slice please.