Crystal Passion Ch. 05

I didn't get to hear Samuel Hedrick's pillorying of Crystal Passion, though it was repeated in different contexts over the next few weeks and became steadily more inflammatory. I've seen the transcripts that Polly managed to uncover in her research. As they were written from memory, no one can be certain that they are Samuel Hedrick's words, but having since heard the rants of other reactionary American radio presenters like Rush Limbaugh I have no reason to doubt their veracity. And vicious and bizarre in equal measure they are too.

I guess I half agree with Polly's view that Samuel Hedrick had put Crystal Passion on trial and that the outcome was decided in advance, as this seems to be precisely what the purpose of such rants are, whether directed at politicians or musicians or even doctors and social workers. When we were touring America, the right wing media was only beginning to get its teeth into Bill Clinton, but it's actually much worse these days than it was then. You'd think President Obama and Nancy Pelosi were devil-worshippers if you believed half of what they say. But I don't suppose Crystal Passion got it worse than any other musician who's outraged conservative opinion.

I also didn't see the broadcast of The Daytime Show that discussed Crystal Passion until after Polly had published her biography. I'd always assumed it was the kind of thing you see these days on Fox News, where obnoxious presenters bully and shout down anyone whose opinions they disagree with and compete with one another to be the loudest and least reasonable. But back in the early 1990s, Fox News didn't exist and the general tendency was for discussion shows to be conservative with a decidedly small 'c'. So, although Polly quotes a lot from the radio discussion, I don't think it was as insanely vituperative as a similar discussion would be these days on a show presented by Sean Hannity, Bill O'Reilly or Glenn Beck.

Nowadays, when there's a discussion on television it's posted on YouTube within minutes. In the 90s, the only way such a discussion could survive was if someone bothered to video-tape it. But Polly Tarantella's research almost inevitably came up with an instance of someone in the United States who'd thought it worthwhile to record that particular edition of The Daytime Show. The elderly woman who did so was much less interested in Crystal Passion and her legacy than she was in a cloying interview with a romantic novelist. And so, thanks to Polly Tarantella, two decades after the event I've actually got to see the interview she claims was more or less Crystal Passion's death warrant.

I don't think I'd go along with that, although the discussion wasn't especially sympathetic towards Crystal. Peter Pilton was one of those silver-haired, chisel-jawed, ever-smiling television presenters that are more often seen in America than in Britain. Inevitably he had that half-indulgent 'what are kids going to get up to next' attitude towards the story, although he'd at least got Crystal Passion's name right, even if his two guests gave the band names such as Bristol Fashion, Crystal and the Passions, Chrissie Passion, and Chrysler Passage. It was obvious that neither of these apparent experts knew anything about the band at all.

The two guests were predictable in terms of both who they were and what they had to say. There was the conservative Christian, Bob Farrow, who reminded me of televangelists like Pat Robertson, Jerry Falwell and Jimmy Swaggart. To an American viewer, I guess, he might seem reasonable and sane, but to me he was swivel-eyed and entirely obnoxious. He was the sort of man I was very glad my father hadn't been. The other guest, Jeff Barrett, was a Rock Critic of some kind, though it was never mentioned what he actually did other than appear on programmes like this. He was another kind of stereotype; the sort of Rock personality even then virtually extinct in Europe. His hair was long, blond and bouffant and he resembled an extra from a glam metal band like Mötley Crüe or Bon Jovi. He dressed in a mixture of leather and denim and had an annoying habit of saying words like 'cool' and 'hip' as if the quotation marks were still very much in place.

Neither of them knew anything about Crystal Passion and there was nothing in the discussion that would enlighten a viewer who might genuinely want to find out. The pictures they showed were of all-girl rock groups that I'd never heard of before such as Red Abyss, Fabulous Disaster and Jack Off Jill. Bob Farrow had a lot to say about the sinfulness of homosexuality, the decadent lyrics of rock songs and the bad example rock musicians were setting kids by taking drugs and foreswearing Jesus. Jeff Barrett had a lot to say about American rock music and how chicks had found a welcome niche for themselves within its embrace. He heaped praise on a bunch of American Rock groups that I don't much like, such as Kiss, Poison and W.A.S.P. He mentioned very briefly such British pop groups as Talk Talk, Stone Roses and U2, and quite clearly thought we were nothing more than a Chick Rock group that took our clothes off on stage to give the guys a thrill.

Even though Crystal Passion came out of the programme apparently either an emissary of Satan on the one hand or trivial to the point of utter irrelevance on the other, I don't really go along with the rage expressed by Polly who describes it as "crowning Crystal Passion with thorns", "stripping Crystal Passion of all dignity" or "acting as both judge and jury to damn for eternity the most significant musical revolution since Bruce Springsteen or the Beatles". The discussion show might have been an unfair representation and it certainly wasn't going to win us many friends amongst American conservatives, but the true damage had already been done. And that was to bring to the attention of an intolerant vindictive American community a band who in its opinion could only be infuriating, irritating and maybe even immoral. I don't believe it was really Crystal Passion per se that was the object of criticism, but what a British all-girl band represented and the sexualised fantasy of cultural subversion that it invoked. And the more they found about Crystal's habitual nudity, her open marriage, the sexual preference of most of the band and the defiantly non-commercial music, the more Crystal Passion would be feared and despised.

Nevertheless, I most definitely did not feel like the member of a reprobate satanic lesbian cult while Crystal and I were being entertained by Simon and Alexandra. Indeed, I don't think I'd ever felt more like a lady. This was an evening soiree of sophisticated discussion, a very filling Mexican dinner prepared by the Kurreins' cook, and an entertaining impromptu solo performance by Crystal on, of all things, a lute. It was most peculiar to hear her song Mustard Birds played on a mediaeval string instrument with its very contemporary references to the Big Bang and Cosmic Inflation. Crystal played several of her own songs, including Dave's First Words, Travelling Light and Muscle Mary Magdalene, but she accompanied Alexandra, who had a classically trained singing voice, on a selection of more familiar songs such as Norwegian Wood, Tears of a Clown and I'm a Believer. It's unlikely that either John Lennon or Stevie Wonder, let alone Neil Diamond, ever expected their songs to be performed in such a way.

I was quite relieved that Crystal kept her clothes on all evening and that towards the end neither Alexandra nor Simon suggested that we should join them in bed. There are occasions when sex is best reserved for the person most close to you and in my case that was Crystal: as it had been from the moment I first cast eyes on her. Although I knew her love was spread equally between so many, the love she expressed to me never felt any less passionate, intense or genuine.

The bed in which we slept that night was probably the most comfortable and luxurious I'd ever slept in until that time. The sheets felt just right against my skin and smelt so fresh and unsullied. The mattress was firm but not too hard. And it was spacious enough for both Crystal and I to make love without the risk of falling off the edge and onto the floor. We were both naked and writhing and cuddling and fisting and snuggling as the mood took us.

"You know, Pebbles," said Crystal, as she ran her tongue over the blue stubble of my pate. "Much as I love your shaved head, I do miss your beautiful bright yellow hair."

"It was very short," I reminded her. "Shaving it off wasn't such a big deal."

"It was longer when we first met," Crystal remarked. "Not as long as mine, but well over your ears..."

"And it was streaked red and blue," I said, with a whimsical laugh. "Don't fret, Crystal, I won't keep my head shaved forever. But it's good on a tour. I don't ever have to get it styled. Maintaining it is just a question of scraping off the stubble with a razor. You'll soon see it long again."

But that, alas, was a promise that I could never fulfil.

I could have stayed in the Kurreins' bed all day, but, as Crystal made sure I remembered, we had a gig to perform at the John Knowles Paine Concert Hall. And this was the gig Crystal enjoyed the most on our tour even though the venue was less than half full and that by a somewhat mixed and rather bemused crowd of students and people two or three times our age.

This concert was one that not even a viewer of The Daytime Show with Peter Pilton could describe as a rock concert. Jeff Barrett would have been very disappointed and probably at least as bewildered as our audience. Although Crystal appeared naked as always (which raised no objection or comment), Judy Dildo was relatively subdued. She dressed in a baggy tee-shirt and corduroy trousers that made her look nothing like a rock chick. This is evidence (that Polly Tarantella disregards) for the case that Judy was more than willing to make compromises in her appearance and musical style when she believed it served the greater interest of the Crystal Passion band. Although I was always more comfortable on electric rather than acoustic keyboards, there was a glorious Steinway Concert Grand piano at the venue which I self-consciously tinkled on for a couple of songs. But it was Crystal, Andrea and Philippa who put the piano to best use and gave Crystal Passion's music an almost classical timbre. In fact, like Judy, I also played a rather lesser role in this concert. This was a venue better suited to acoustic than electric or electronic music, but Crystal with her experience of being a singer-songwriter restructured her compositions for the venue's ambience.

Although it was the best presented and most sympathetically received concert on our tour, it probably wasn't the kind of gig most suited to the Crystal Passion band. The audience were polite and responsive, but scarcely enthusiastic. And the compositions they most enjoyed were precisely those with the least potential for commercial success and, it has to be said, the least likely to appeal to Polly Tarantella and the rock critics that have so successfully revitalised her legacy. The audience politely requested an encore, but I got the impression that it was for form's sake rather than from a genuine desire to hear more. Crystal closed with a solo rendition of The Sage and Stupid Sluts that despite its title (which Crystal didn't announce) is a tricky composition with an alternating 10/4 and 5/4 rhythm and abstruse lyrics that don't make at all clear that it's a celebration of the right a woman has to be sexually promiscuous if she should so wish (or, at least, that's how both Polly and I interpret it). I wonder whether the applause wouldn't have been rather more subdued if the more senior members of the audience had known the song's title.

Crystal was very satisfied with how the concert went and grateful to Simon for having made it possible. Judy was less happy, but she made no comment other than a dismissive remark about having to wear such crappy clothes to keep Crystal happy. She tugged off the corduroy trousers as soon as we left the stage and pulled on a short leather skirt. And of course she wore nothing under her baggy tee-shirt.

Polly's account of the actual concert is rather perfunctory: possibly because she views classical and acoustic music as peripheral to the main thrust of her epic tale of Crystal Passion's revolution in popular culture. But she praises Professor Simon Kurrein's achievement in booking a concert at Harvard as being a life-saver for Crystal after all the negative publicity the tour had so far attracted. Although I was also grateful for everything that Simon had done, I don't think any of us at the time put it into such a context. After all, if Simon hadn't told us about the discussion on The Daytime Show with Peter Pilton, none of us would have known about it and, in any case, at the time we thought it was more amusing than worrying. There'd always been a long tradition of newspaper, television and radio totally misunderstanding popular culture and of finding the worst possible light in which to present it. We probably felt we'd got away relatively lightly compared to the furore that accompanied the rise of Acid House and the ongoing persecution of rave culture in the UK.

I'm fairly certain that no one in the audience knew much about Crystal Passion other than what was hurriedly put together in the publicity material which confusingly described our music as 'avant-folk' and our live concerts as 'lively and deceptively chaotic'. The poster advertising the gig featured a print of Jacopo Tintoretto's Women Playing Music which might have been strictly correct (especially since the women are all naked) but a 16^th Century painting was more likely to remind an English audience of the Renaissance club in Derby than whatever it was that Crystal Passion represented.

"I don't know what we'd have done without you, Simon," said Crystal after the concert just before we drove back to the Hotel Syracuse for what couldn't possibly be such a good night's sleep for either Crystal or me.

"It was my pleasure," he said. "I just hope I can be of help if you should ever need it again."