Marking
its 40th anniversary today is the debut solo album from impresario
Malcolm McLaren, with Duck Rock being released on May 27th, 1983. After
a decade of working behind the scenes in the music business, McLaren
decided it was finally time to step out front, taking the spotlight for
himself rather than living vicariously through the likes of Johnny
Rotten.
Cultural appropriation is something the Brits have
certainly mastered over the years and Duck Rock is a prime example of a
couple of white dudes wholesale pilfering black culture for their own
ends. While it’s valid to be critical of that process these days, you
still can’t deny that McLaren & company managed to put together one
hell of a fun album. Since Malcolm wasn’t actually a musician in any
sense, a HUGE portion of credit for the creation of this record has to
go to co-producer, composer and instrumentalist, Trevor Horn. He’d made
a name for himself as one half of The Buggles, followed by a brief
stint in the progressive rock supergroup, Yes. Between the two of them,
they put together a crazy-quilt of world music influences.
After
becoming infamous for managing the Sex Pistols and then helping kick
off the New Romantic “pirate” trend with Bow Wow Wow, Malcolm McLaren
hooked up with Trevor Horn and the two began a sojourn around the globe,
collecting bits and pieces for the collaboration they were cooking up.
Their travels took them to places like South Africa, Brazil and the
USA, where they recruited local musicians and performers to contribute
to the musical gumbo they were cooking up. Unfortunately, several of
those contributions were uncredited and subsequent lawsuits ended up
being settled out of court in order to provide appropriate compensation
to certain slighted musicians while retaining composer credits for
McLaren and Horn.
Beyond the the musical elements recorded
using local talent, Trevor Horn recruited various UK musicians to help
him create the remaining musical components needed to tie all these
threads together. These included Anne Dudley, J. J. Jeczalik, and
Thomas Dolby. Side recordings which Horn, Dudley and Jeczalik made in
between takes of Duck Rock would eventually become the debut album by
the Art of Noise, Into Battle with the Art of Noise. Horn was
essentially defining the sound of the ‘80s, which is particularly
notable given that, after these two projects, he’d go on to co-found ZTT
Records and propel bands like Frankie Goes to Hollywood to
international fame. In retrospect, it’s impossible to overestimate the
impact he had on the world of pop music throughout the decade and
beyond.
The structure of the album presents a continuous flow of
music inter-cut with radio spots from The Supreme Team radio show.
Altogether, the album has a stream of consciousness feel to it, bounding
between styles and genres with effluent ease. Each turn reveals a new
surprise - from the tribal rhythms of Africa to the rope skipping glee
of inner city youth clubs. Since Malcolm had no particular musical
abilities, he took on the role of ringleader, contributing speak-sung
vocals to several of the tracks. Throughout all of it, he pops in
periodically as a kind of travelogue host, enthusiastically highlighting
the virtues of each pit-stop along the journey. In his vocals, he
affects a kind of mid-western Americana joviality, which almost comes
off as obnoxious while somehow managing to remain charming.
As
much as this album is an exploitation and appropriation of black music,
it’s still interesting to note that the success of the album helped open
the floodgates for that music to infiltrate the mainstream of pop
consciousness. Before this album, hip-hop was mostly an underground
fringe scene known only within select urban environments. After this
release, rap music was all over the place. The impact on African music
was also notable, particularly when you consider that, three years
later, Paul Simon would release his Graceland album, which completely
leaned into South African music. Ultimately, Duck Rock was a key
pathway by which much or this black culture was smuggled into white
western ears. 40 years on, it still has a freshness and dynamism that
feels timeless.
