Kim Fowley
International Heroes

 Well, I tell myself it takes a lot of courage to present oneself to the public with a face like that, cross-dressed and cross-viewed like a big lady, with an oblique and cross-reference to the effeminacies of so much glam rock from the early '70s, from Marc Bolan to David Bowie, not to mention Lou Reed dyed blonde.

The spirit hiding behind the gaze, whether dull or sharp, of the subject depicted on the cover, is not entirely reassuring, also because the person in question, despite his slight - if not nonexistent - fame among the large (but also small) public, is a mind not to be underestimated, the one who - if the world spun the other way and the sun set in the east - would be acclaimed as a star: because he is Kim Fowley (here I ask for a 'virtual' standing ovation).

With "International Heroes", recorded in London in '73, Fowley captures the spirit of the times, chews it up, and spits it back in our faces playing with the fashion of the era, that is with lipstick-stained and heavily made-up rock that was so popular in those years, stripping and undoing the very makeup that adorned that music, and representing it for what, when it comes down to it, it truly is: classic rock indebted to '50s vibes, '60s beat, and folk revisited like the Byrds with some sprinkles of lacquer and abundant doses of eyeliner, thus capturing the attention of the younger and seemingly more savvy fringes of the audience.

I don’t know if Kim wants to tell us that - when it comes down to it - the first glam was an essentially commercial product, pop-izing tradition and seasoning it with forms of cheap transgression (more apparent or more real? I can’t say), but certainly, with that face, it seems to me he wants to first mock the audience, or, rather, lead them, along with him, towards degradation.

And there is no doubt that the journey towards degradation - with Kim in the role of Charon - is decidedly fascinating, almost making us wish to be like the big lady on the cover, or to have his courage to show ourselves to the world in those conditions: and so, the opening "International Heroes" seems like a small and compelling anthem, where the mockery is hidden in the lyrics (International herpes/You got the teenage blues/Change has gotta come soon/Or else we’re gonna lose); "E.S.P Reader", more sinuous and relaxed, seems almost a journey into our mind, which menacingly reads our thoughts until hypnotizing us, with an obsessiveness that seems to repeat in the subsequent "I hate You"; the ironic, disenchanted, and entertained tone comes back to take us, almost in epilepsy, with the twitchy "Ugly Stories About Rock Stars And The War" . A particular nod should be given to "Something New", which in the mentioned world going the right way would be sung at all beaches, in front of all bonfires and in front of all moons, in chorus. The other tracks, perhaps less significant but just as interesting to listen to, flirt with vaguely danceable rhythms, marked by an expressive straightforwardness of a seasoned craftsman of music and words, as evident in "King Of Love", or, among others "So Good Wish You Would".

Personally, I came to Fowley purely by chance, tracing back to the source through the references of Sonic Youth (they covered a piece - Bubble Gum - in Evol), finding an affinity with various eccentrics of rock from the late '60s stars and stripes, from Zappa and Beefheart (for the attitude towards outrage), to Todd Rundgren (for the encyclopedic composition and ability to capture the soul of every musical genre), without these comparisons being able to exhaust the value of the commendable Kim.

One who, dressing up as a big lady, allowed himself the luxury of doing gigs for the Kiss ("Do You Love", in Destroyer is his), producing the Runaways of Joan Jett, writing the lyrics for a piece of Blue Öyster Cult and many other things you can find on his official site, remaining in substance, a free man.

A great man, and who cares if, around the bonfires of the beaches, people sing Bennato (with all due respect). I look at the moon, wondering why it isn't as made-up as Kim.