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Egypt live at Manchester
While Kate Bush was staging her only tour, the 1980s were being born. The Labour government of James Callaghan collapsed, and Margaret Thatcher’s Conservatives came to power, a major step towards the austerity policies and neoliberalism that’s defined the last forty years. The Camp David Accords were orchestrated by American President Jimmy Carter, Egyptian President Anwar Sadat, and Israeli Prime Minister Menachim Begin, and the Egypt-Israel Peace treaty, effectively terminating the Israeli occupation of Sinai while also seeing to it Egypt began supplying Israel with oil. Soon afterwards, Carter lost a presidential election to Ronald Reagan, the American half of neoliberalism’s early regime. CNN was established, arcade video games were becoming a viable commercial presence, and John Lennon was killed in New York. To be an artist is to be a cultural marker for a moment in history. To be one in 1980 was to witness the world falling on its head.
The massive global upheaval is noticeable in music as well. Just look at the UK’s Top 10 singles of 1980: it’s topped by Don McLean’s “Crying,” and the other songs are apprehensive titles like The Police’s “Don’t Stand So Close to Me” and the MASH theme song. Even a catchy disco single like Odyssey’s “Use It Up and Wear It Out” sounds tense and minimalistic compared to something like “YMCA” or “Freak Out.” Also in the top 10 is ABBA’s “Super Trouper,” their last #1, which deals with being pursued and has a campily militaristic title. 1980’s albums tend to abandon some of the Seventies’ utopianism as well: punk had given way to the abjection of post-punk groups like Public Image Ltd and Magazine, synthpop was rearing its head in the form of Ultravox and The Human League, and new wave was speeding up with Blondie and Talking Heads. Rock veterans were also pushing themselves, like David Bowie, who made the violent and weird Scary Monsters and its turn-of-the-decade-anxiety single “Ashes to Ashes,” and Bruce Springsteen, who went all-out with the wildly undisciplined double-LP The River. Songwriters of Bush’s generation were forging ahead: Elvis Costello released Get Happy!, one of his longer and more sprawling albums, and Prince dropped his funk-cum-erotica LP Dirty Mind. In the music of 1980, popular music is torn between sensibilities: the drive of the Seventies and the call to innovation necessitated by the new decade.
Having just completed her triumphant European tour, Kate Bush was entering her imperial phase. Instead of working with producer Andrew Powell and the band of her first two albums again, she established control of her work by appointing herself co-producer with Jon Kelly, and finally using her own band for a whole LP. The result was a more authored album than her first two, one with the mark of its creator in its every facet. Never for Ever is a weird step forward: for one thing, it’s much more in line with the synthesizer music that was beginning to surface in British pop. It’s the album where she discovers her long-term ally, the Fairlight, a classic synth which would direct much of her music. Never for Ever’s interest in soundscapes is greater than that of its predecessors, sometimes letting songwriting take a backseat to more spatial ideas of music and composition. The technology of music takes greater import in her work as she starts composing with synths. Never for Ever is the point where Bush’s songs start sounding like their concepts. Rather than only singing about the magical forces of the universe, she’s now able to implement its sounds into her music. Now in addition to her idiosyncratic vocals and unorthodox compositions, she has the technology to match her songs too.
Never for Ever also signals a return to the conceptual clarity of The Kick Inside, which Lionheart lacked. Each of its ten songs has a clearly outlined idea and purpose, with refined hooks and clear-cut melodies. Yet there’s much of Lionheart’s darkness and trepidation as well: this time, the sense of doubt is in regards to more worldly causes than Lionheart’s adolescent stage fright. For all that Bush doesn’t discuss politics head-on, she’s writing unmistakably political songs. Never for Ever is full of familial trauma, violence, and massive political fallout, both on and offstage. It’s a veritable Pandora’s box of ideas and fears: take a look at the classic cover, which depicts a variety of fay creatures, sprites, and eldritch monsters pouring out from under her skirt. As Bush has said, “that’s where all [her] ideas come from.” And why not release your new album by giving birth to strange creatures? That may be the only way to release albums.
Speaking of “strange creatures,” let’s talk about “Egypt” (the song more than the country, although we’ll be talking about the latter soon). Its treats the country as an enigma: it is seductress, serpent and sigil. “She’s got me with that feline guise/got me in those desert eyes,” the chorus says, “Oh, I’m in love with Egypt.” Bush’s Egypt is that of Ancient One of the Pharaohs, necropolises and the Sphinx, which Bush refers to in the best fucking lyric ever with “my pussy queen knows all my secrets.” The perception of Egypt is occidental: Bush is captivated by the myth of Egypt, the country that’s found in history books rather than the one that actually exists on the Sinai Peninsula. She’s dealing with iconography more than actual lived history once again. Falling into the pervasive Western trope of depicting Eastern landscapes minus the people (The Lion King, anyone?), she sings about an unpopulated landscape, a playground for colonizers rather than a place where people live. In his classic text Orientalism, Edward Said describes the East as “a theatrical stage affixed to Europe,” where the interests of Western imperial powers are acted out. The ever-theatrical Kate Bush operates similarly.
To Bush’s credit, she attempts to grapple with this tension. An early part of the discordant lyric — consisting of a mere two verses and two choruses, which almost entirely fail to rhyme — makes mention of how “the sands run red/in the land of the Pharaohs.” Bush’s gaze shifts from the bloodshed: the chorus begins with “I cannot stop to comfort them/I’m busy chasing up my demons.” At the very least, she tries to deal with the solipsism of Western colonialism. Fetishization of Egyptian objects becomes a sickness that distracts from the exploitation and cruelty of material history.
The problem is that while Bush does take something of a critical hammer to colonialist attitudes, she engages in those very attitudes. Presenting Egypt as hypnotic is maybe not the critique Bush thinks it is. In fact it only buys into the Orientalist trope of the East as inherently mysterious and esoteric: just look at the first edition cover of Said’s Orientalism, with its snake-charming painting. And for all that I tipped my hat to Bush for her acknowledgement of Egypt’s violent conflict, it’s a very minimal part of the song. The unpopulated landscape is still almost the entirety of “Egypt”: there are no people in it. It’s not that I want Bush to write a song about the Suez Crisis or Yom Kippur. I shudder at the thought of such a song from nearly any white artist. But “Egypt” is such a minimalistic piece of songwriting it’s hard to derive anything conclusive from it.
This is no surprise given that “Egypt” was the first new song written for Never for Ever (“Violin” was recycled from the Phoenix years). It’s oddly shaped and difficult to parse — it sounds outright unfinished, with its sparse lyric and chorus. More than likely it was written in between Lionheart and the Tour of Life, as it made its first appearance on that tour, where it was introduced as visual spectacle instead of an album track. As a result the song is more something to be seen than heard, as it was originally written for the stage. In concert, Bush strove up to the audience draped in full Cleopatra-meets-Captain-Marvel, draped in the red, blue, and gold livery, heralded by pipes and Preston Heyman’s powerful drumming. The subsequent performance is tense and distant — its frantic arrangement keeps it from getting dull, and it’s more driving and catchy than its record counterpart. The tour’s punchy and often acoustic arrangements give “Egypt” more weight than it would later have, and the song would be worse off without it.
Yet therein lies the problem of “Egypt”: in striving to dispel myths of Egypt, it imitates them. Musically it’s host to a number of caricatures found in Western imitations of “Oriental” music: the live versions of the song have this zig-zaggy four-note riff which is akin to plenty of Hollywood scores for epic movies set in Southern Asia or Northern Africa (note this was shortly before Raiders of the Lost Ark was released). It’s not just a crass idea of what European musicians think Egyptian music sounds like; it’s a tacky-sounding riff as well. Paddy Bush’s strumento de porco doesn’t help much with its ringing scrape of a sound either (“Oriental” music sounds like things been scraped on other things, didn’t you know?).
It should go without saying that Bush is far from the only singer to broach Orientalism in the burgeoning Eighties, however. There’s also Siouxsie and the Banshees with their single “Arabian Knights.” Similarly to Bush, the Banshees play what they consider Egyptian music, interlaced with reverb-heavy Goth guitar playing and drummer Budgie’s deep-hitting syncopation. Similarly to Bush, the Banshees treat “Egypt,” as a living entity, although their Egypt is more a bleeding organism that’s been leeched on by exploitative foreign entities. Siouxsie Sioux expounds on how “a tourist oasis/reflects in seedy sunshades” as the landscape is devastated by “a monstrous oil tanker/its wounds bleeding in seas” (a lyric that’s aged particularly well). The anger and disgust of “Arabian Knights” goes beyond anything “Egypt” tries, as Bush refuses to pick a culprit for global problems. Yet the Banshees’ song also has problems, as it relies on phrases like “Arabian Knights/at your primitive best.” Its fury is genuine, but Sioux and the band’s judgement is very much that of a white band from Bromley..
Yet like “Arabian Knights,” “Egypt” is consistently interesting. The crux of its failure is that its weaksauce anticolonialism is tainted entirely by white privilege, with its key difference from Siouxsie’s take being Bush’s characteristic lack of cynicism. Melodically it’s unusually restrained by Bush standards, another possible effect of its rushed composition. Perhaps in an attempt to write under time constraints, Bush has set Egypt almost entirely in a pentatonic scale (E minor, mostly the natural minor) rather than her preferred chromatic one. There’s the occasional break from pentatonic standards as Bush throws in a C or an F#, and the song shifts between 4/4 and 2/4 (not the “9/8 or 11/9” guitarist Brian Bath has claimed), but it’s still a more controlled song than Bush tends to write.
As “Egypt” was mixed early in the production of Never for Ever, its album version appeared on her classic 1979 Christmas special. While the acoustic instruments are largely dropped from this recording, a sense of rhythm is lost: “Egypt” meanders, Bush’s urgent “I cannot stop to comfort them!” serving as its anchor. Mike Moran’s early Prophet V synth creates interesting spatial dimensions, but it’s far from most interesting synth playing on Never for Ever. The song is not well served by Bush’s misjudged and goofy video for it, in which she wears a red silk veil and billowing robes, in addition to a black cloth wrapped around her face, which appears to be a simplified battoulah (a mask hailing from the Arab States rather than Egypt, which. Hmm. Oh dear). Miming shock at everything around as she’s superimposed over images of the Great Sphinx and stock footage of Egypt, Bush plunges the song into pure camp. Embarrassing doesn’t begin to cover it; it’s hilarious in all the wrong ways.
Thus is “Egypt,” a queasy attempt to engage with a new world. As the world rapidly organizes itself into new modes of capitalism and imperialist expansion, Bush is producing a soundtrack for its disasters. Her new music shows tradition crashing down on people who’ve followed them blindly, and sometimes she gets caught under the debris. Shortly we’re going to see how she deals with personal catastrophe as well. It forces her to look outward. Yet despite the abyss gazing also, she’s a bit too immersed in Western solipsism to see where it’s looking.
Performed live on the Tour of Life through April and May of 1979. Recorded late 1979 at Abbey Road Studios. Personnel: Kate Bush — vocals. Preston Heyman — drums, percussion. Max Middleton — Fender Rhodes, Minimoog. Paddy Bush — backing vocals, strumento de porco. Mike Moran — Prophet V.
July 5, 2019 @ 10:06 am
Fascinating, as ever.
Personally, I wouldn’t characterise the Fairlight as a ‘classic synth’, given that it was revolutionary in ushering in the age of sampling. I know that it wasn’t just a sampler — and it was pretty famous for its filters — but that was what set it apart from the likes of the Moogs and the Prophet V you mention. I consider Bush and Gabriel, followed by Trevor Horn shortly afterwards, to be the people who demonstrated what this form of music-making could give us.
Obviously Said looms large over this song. I found Orientalism fascinating, since I read it after coming to Japan, and there’s a weird sort of lacuna in the book regarding Asia. Not that this invalidates a jot of what he says which has to do with Egypt.
July 6, 2019 @ 5:23 am
Have you actually bothered to watch the video? It’s on YouTube. She contrasts singing about Egypt’s mysteries with video footage of the poverty Egyptians live under which is usually ignored by tourists..
Spare me the hypocrisy of “cultural appropriation” or, as it should be known as, “we can use anything originated by White Caucasian people, but they can’t use our stuff.”
July 6, 2019 @ 10:53 am
You seem angry. I wonder why?
The words ‘cultural appropriation’ don’t appear in this review: you brought them to the party, so any hypocrisy is, er, your own fabrication. There is, however, a reference to the concept of orientalism, which appears in the eponymous book by Edward Said. Familiar with it? If not, rather than weighing in with an openly abusive claim that Christine has not watched the video which she both describes and links to, you might want to maintain a little more discretion about an idea which is rather more sophisticated than ‘cultural appropriation’.
The video does contain stock footage of ‘the poverty Egyptians live under’. How does that relate to the song? How is it addressed by the lyrics? How is it addressed by Kate dancing in front of it in her ‘red silk veil and billowing robes’? Indeed, you mention that ordinary Egyptians are ‘usually ignored by tourists’. In what way do either the song or video address the issue of tourism in Egypt?
In fact, is there actually any content to your post other than mere uninformed abuse?
July 6, 2019 @ 3:15 pm
For what it’s worth, I believe Pathetic Review’s idea is that the juxtaposition of the stereotypically orientalist lyrics with the footage of modern-day Egyptian poverty is intended to be seen as ironic.
July 7, 2019 @ 2:48 am
That’s an interesting get-out. The problem with it is that it declares that the lyrics are stereotypically orientalist. The video was part of a Christmas special seen by a relatively small number of the people who would hear the song (I was into Kate Bush’s music in 1979, and I don'(t remember seeing it). If the ironic juxtaposition of the video’s images is necessary to appreciate the song as something other than stereotypically orientalist… then why is ‘Pathetic Review’ getting so hot under the collar about Christine’s criticism? Especially given the even-handedness of that criticism.
July 7, 2019 @ 4:22 pm
Oh, I have no clue. You and Christine are very probably right. I was just trying to be fair and make what I thought to be Pathetic Review’s argument explicit; I don’t necessarily endorse it myself.
July 7, 2019 @ 4:41 pm
Don’t do this. Bad faith arguments attacking our contributors for their leftism do not need defending or clarifying. This was an abusive troll comment. It did not deserve defense.
July 7, 2019 @ 8:48 pm
I’ll do my best. The thing is, as you may have noticed (and I’m aware that this is to some extent a bias like any other) I am naturally inclined towards assuming good faith by default, even when most people would think it a stretch, and steelmanning everyone’s arguments. It’s a vice, albeit, I think, a relatively respectable one.
July 7, 2019 @ 9:06 pm
“Do not validate the arguments of malicious trolls” is not really a “do my best” sort of directive. If you are unable to follow it, this is not a good site for you to post on.
July 7, 2019 @ 9:12 pm
The issue is that I’m not good at telling when people are being malicious. It’s caused me not inconsiderable trouble in real life as well, but it’s not as if it’s something I can just fix by wishing really hard. By definition, trying one’s best is the best one can do at following any given directive…
July 8, 2019 @ 12:16 am
I’m generally inclined to assume good faith myself.
In this case, though, it was hardly difficult to spot the truth.
‘Have you actually bothered to watch the video’ as an opening salvo?
‘Spare me…’ as a follow-up rhetorical device?
To be honest, I think Elizabeth would be justified in criticizing me for even engaging with the so-and-so at all.
July 8, 2019 @ 5:55 am
Far as I was concerned, that was indicative of rudeness, to be sure, but not necessarily of the argument itself not being in good faith.
July 8, 2019 @ 9:28 am
Even the username is a directed insult, though. It’s clearly drive-by trolling.
And if it wasn’t, Pathetic Review could surely have elaborated upon their own argument. There was never any need to ‘steelman’, which is really just putting words into another person’s mouth, even with the best intentions.
July 8, 2019 @ 1:23 pm
Well as I said, in hindsight, I can see the “clues” that it was a troll, but the username, for example, I took instead to be a self-deprecating joke from another reviewer, rather than a “title” referring to this particular review.
Gotta disagree on the value of steelmanning in the general case, though. Responding to someone else’s point, short of the someone else being a master of argumentation, will always involve a measure of distortion; you can only answer to another’s point as best you understand them. So in the spirit of fairness, the best one can do is surely, when one is not sure what was meant, to default to what seems the strongest, most logical meaning those words could’ve had.
Not, again, that I was right to apply this to someone who I now realize wasn’t trying to take part in a honest debate. I now realize that I wasn’t. I means this last paragraph solely in general.
July 8, 2019 @ 2:02 pm
I’m familiar with the idea, i just think it’s misguided, at least in most applications. The best approach to another person’s argument, imo, is to try to understand what they mean, as best possible, not to construct what one feels to be the most rational possible version of the argument. And you’re right that this can only ever be one’s interpretation, but you can draw conclusions from contextual data and the language used.
In this specific instance, we had an apparently first-time commenter, striking a hostile tone, using the phrase ‘cultural appropriation’ which is a right-wing cliche that appears nowhere in Christine’s post.
(This is all incredibly off topic and will be my last comment on this subject.)
July 8, 2019 @ 2:55 pm
That’s good, or else the design of the site would reduce any such further comments to a column of single letters.
At any rate, I’m too new a reader to have known that this was a first-time commenter, which didn’t help.
July 7, 2019 @ 5:28 am
I take it back: I did watch that special when it was first broadcast (I remember that piano-only version of Here Comes The Flood which Peter Gabriel did on it). But given that this was before the age of video (2 years before the launch of MTV in the US), I think my point still stands. Certainly I have listened to Egypt many times since without once remembering that video.
July 8, 2019 @ 4:30 pm
Vadron, I really don’t think this comment section is a good fit for you, and your involvements in it seem to routinely derail conversations and generally make the place less pleasant. I don’t say this to ascribe any malice on your part; I’m sure you’re operating in good faith according to what you would like online discussion to be. However it is not what I would like online discussion to be, and this is my site, so I am going to have to politely ask you to stop posting here.