By Amanda Hallay
If you’re thinking this article is going to be all about Jim Morrisson, Keith Moon and Liam, you’d best think again. Certainly, these characters were ‘bad boys of rock ‘n roll’, but…well…that’s not what my article’s about. The title of my article is to be taken quite literally; it’s about the bad boys who appear in song, those leather jacket ,motor-bike riding, shade-wearing ruffians who inhabit the world of girl singers (and I’m counting George Michael as a ‘girl singer’.)
Let’s start with the definitive ‘bad boy’ song. Penned by Gene Pitney (who knows a thing or two about boys), He’s a Rebel was a hit for The Crystals in 1963, and (considering the time) the boy in question was truly sinister.
Watch the way he shuffles his feet
(He shuffles his feet?! This is not the preppy, cardigan wearing boy your mother wants you to go out with; this guy’s an animal.)
(He’s just inviting bother, isn’t he)
(All girls are proud of having their very own ‘bad boy’ to play with.)
(Told ya.)
My baby’s always the one to try the things they’ve never done
(This is an eye-brow raising line; what does she mean, ‘the things they’ve never done?’ It could range from such innocent pleasures as under-age drinking to full-on anal penetration with a variety of dildos…We have no way of knowing.)
He’s a Rebel and he’ll never, ever be any good
(Probably not, if the dildos are anything to go by.)
And just because he doesn’t do what everybody else does
That’s no reason why I can’t give him all my love
(Words which are close to my heart; ‘Just because he doesn’t do what everybody else does’. I usually go out with boys who don’t do ‘what everybody else does’ (ie; have a job) and so I can relate to this vibe.)
(‘Can’t always relate to this one.)
(‘Depends on your definition of ‘tenderly’, I suppose.)
He’s not a rebel, no, no, no
To me!
(This is where I lose all interest in the guy. Still, He’s a Rebel truly spells out the bad boy status of this leather jacket-clad shoe shuffler, and set the trend for much of the bad boy music which followed.)
This is a fabulous song (even if it wasn’t about bad boys), and Martha and the Vandellas rocked hard with this one.
(Okay, they stole the ‘rebel’ bit, but still.)
(Don’t be so sure; I’ve spent a good many hours trying to convince friends and/or relatives of the veracity of my union with some fella (“He’s just really focussing on his music at the moment”) and they never understood.
You’re a victim of circumstance
(That’s what he told the judge.)
Just what you’re doin’ to me
I’ve given you my heart
(Bad move – unless you’re happy taking HMS Prison service buses to remote Maximum Security Facilities out in the middle of nowhere.)
(You were expecting Leader of the Pack, weren’t ya.)
This guy is so bad he’s gone full circle and ended up good!
He don’t do the wild things that he did before
(This is where I should lose interest, but wait…)
It makes me so sad, ‘cause I know that he did it for me
And I can see
He’s doin’ the street
(Ey? What does that mean, ‘doin’ the street’. I don’t get it. ‘Doin’ the street’ implies a ‘bad boy’ sort of conduct. And yet, we know that he has ‘quit’ being bad. With that in mind, ‘doin’ the street’ suggests picking up litter and helping pensioners across the road. Mmmm. I’m not so sure that I’m into this guy. He’s probably the supervisor on a YTS Scheme.)
He don’t comb his hair like he did before
(Shit.)
(He’s a Clarks guy now.)
There’s somethin’ in his kissing
That just isn’t right
Tells me somethin’s missing inside
(Something’s died)
He’s doin’ the street
(Ey?)
(At this point the song dissolves into a sort of hysterical samba, with the Shangri Las explaining that ‘he grew up on the sidewalks with no-one to love’ (hence his former delinquency), and that – once he found love (in the form of the Shangri Las) – he was miserable, missing his Borstal mates and wishing to once again carve up people’s faces.
Moral? Um……?
This guy is truly sinister.
I’ve heard about him – Bad things about him
This is basically all that happens in this song, apart from an interesting couplet involving Sandie’s culinary skills:
But I won’t take him home to sample my cookin’
Not even if my mum and dad were there!
(Very wise. He’d probably kill them, too.)
I love this song! One can just imagine Nathan Jones with his long, double-breasted velvet coat, platform-heeled boots and massive hat. Samuel L. Jackson should definitely play him in the movie.
And you walked slowly down the hall
(Cheeky sod doesn’t even leg it down the hall. Oh, no. He’s got all the time in the world.)
(Well, if she believed that that …)
(Oh, they all say that.)
You never wrote me
You never wrote me
(This is one BAAAAD mothafucka!)
Oh, stop nagging the lad! He’s just not interested, and no amount of chastisement is going to get him back. He’s just too fly for a clingy Supreme (esp. as this is a post-Diana Ross number when the group was on its way down. Nathan knows which side his bread is buttered on, and was last seen shagging the lead one out of The Three Degrees.)
Accelerated his motorbike
(‘Nuff said!)
I really fancy this guy!
You don’t own me – Don’t say I can’t go with other boys
(Why shouldn’t he say that?! And why would she want to go with ‘other boys’ when she’s got such a sexy and possessive bad boy at home? Pffffft. )
He broke the law and now he can’t get out – ROUSTABOUT!
Oooo, can’t you just picture him with his Mowhawk hairdo, ‘Boy’ tee-shirt and tin of Four X, sitting at a bus-stop on the King’s Road desperately hoping that someone will look at him before taking the night-bus back to his mum’s in Streatham. (ROUSTABOUT!)
Look, I think that Maddie knew what she was in for when she married Sean Penn.
You hit so hard with the things you say
(What did he say to her that was worse than a punch in the face? Maybe it was something to do with Hankie Pankie.)
(I love the way she works this line in – just to let us know that Sean hadn’t copped off.)
(How could Sean Penn not love himself? He’s SEAN PENN, for Chrissake.)
(Awwww. Maddie, he probably regrets it now. Don’t you worry, love. You got the last laugh. He’s married to Robin Wright. ‘NUFF SAID.)
