Matt asked me to write this. He implored me. I can only assume he felt that I was more aptly prepared and disposed to discuss the themes which are to follow. There is a good chance that this piece will be double posted, here, and also over at The Most Sublime Noise to Penetrate the Ear of Man, a fellow blog I have only recently begun writing for. I asked her her name and in a dark brown voice she said Lola. L-o-l-a; Lola.Vanity Fair said of Nabokov’s masterpiece
Lolita that it was “The only convincing love story of our century.” If
Lolita is this century’s only convincing love story in literature than The Kinks’ 1970 song “Lola” must be the only convincing love song we are left with.
It’s surprising how catchy the song is when you first listen to it. The strong twanging intro grabs you deep down in your groin with a snug grip only to let go for you to relax as Ray Davies’ tiny, pubescent, boy-girl voice starts to whisper in your ear. There is something entirely faggoty about the sound of the song that, even before you know what it is really about, is exciting and playful to listen to. At first listen “Lola” is simply a summer love song like any other summer love song should like to be, enjoyable; cutesy; moderately lasting. “Lola”, on its surface, is a well to-do love song. But, it is what’s under Lola’s makeup which is truly remarkable and endearing about it as a love story. This love song, like so many good rock and roll love songs, is nothing but a painted whore, a bright pair of leopard print tights, hiding the true nature of love and art, a throbbing, tucked back, veiny muscle of love.
“Lola” is among those other hidden pervert songs like “Blister in the Sun,” “F.H.I.T.A.” and “Longview.” The enduring quality The Kinks managed to impart in this song, besides the slightly masked transvestite and homosexual themes of the story, is that even after the point when it becomes clear to the listener that the song is in fact about an uncommon or expected love affair it is still and incredibly enjoyable satisfying song. Lola dregs up in its listener those feelings of sexual confusion and apprehension that have always lived with us. It’s hard for some people to imagine living a Grecian life style of antiquity and partaking in the styles of man-love only understood between and warrior and his fellow plunderers and spearmen or the occasion and goat farmer and his cattle. The question that should be pressed to our leaders, in politics, religion, and academia, in sociology, anthropology, history and psychology has nothing to do with “nature verses nurture” or “how do we square the cases of child molestation by the forefathers of modern culture with today’s values?” or even “is homosexuality a trait or a choice?” but what would you do for the love of a woman?
Nevermind the bullocks. Over look the five o’clock shadow and that she walks like a man. This is a battle of wills: not the head and the head but the head and the heart. The love for a true woman isn’t physical but spiritual. When you’re left in solitude, away from home for the first time, what will you do for the love of a woman, a woman who you can love and will love you back, just as hard and severely? What price would you pay? Is it so wrong? Should you turn away, run for the door? Or is it more atrocious to deny yourself happiness and to refuse what love there is that’s real?
Girls will be boys and boys will be girls
Its a mixed up, muddled up, shook up, world …except for Lola.-Caleb Michael, not the world's most masculine guy
