Blues, jazz, country, and folk songs have long explored human challenges, especially during wartimes and the Great Depression, but the majority of music that achieved substantial popularity pre-‘60s served to uplift an audience, especially when performed live. The most salient legacy of the ‘60s was that the emotional bandwidth of popular music was radically expanded to include an appreciation for the subtleties and nuances of human experience, particularly what might be called the interior experience. As a result, persona—the point-of-view of the singer/performer, along with such psychological states of suffering such as despair, rage, and anxiety—began to play a larger and larger role in songwriting.
The three major archetypes in rock music, including what we’d broadly call Americana, are the Rebel (independence, individuality, freedom), the Ecstatic Dancer (pleasure, excitement, beauty), and the Wounded (importance of brokenness, importance of vulnerability, reality of struggle). Popular music prior to and throughout the ‘50s typically sourced the energy of the Ecstatic Dancer. With the ‘50s—perhaps most notably Elvis and Jerry Lee Lewis (worth considering that they could afford to rebel, being that they were white)—the energy of the Rebel archetype also began to play a role. The addition of the Wounded energy to popular music, though, is a legacy of the ‘60s. The Wounded and Rebel are now the two primary archetypal sources of rock music. The energy of the Ecstatic Dancer is more abundantly present in the pop, R&B and easy-listening domains.
The below list exemplifies these personas. No list can be truly definitive; however, it’s my sense that the 17 songs listed herein, especially when considered collectively, provide an overview of how the use of persona evolved in popular music from 1964-1991. I hope, too, that the complementary discussions illustrate how, over time, original lines of genre have thinned and blurred, resulting in the numerous hybridized forms and stylistic integrations now part of the cultural vernacular (alt-country, blues-rock, folk-rock, etc.).
To some degree, the exploration of persona and trend towards psychedelia overlapped and became somewhat singular in the ‘60s. Persona is related to perspective, whereas I associate psychedelic rock as it was explored by the Beatles, Cream, and Hendrix, among others, as referring more to sound. In the case of Dylan: his pre-Bringing It All Back Home albums were primarily works of lyrical and melodic innovation and can be regarded as templates for the use of persona in popular music. Bringing It All Back Home, Highway 61 Revisited, and Blonde on Blonde, however, seem to advance both the psychedelic, to some degree in terms of sounds, and the use of persona, in terms of point-of-view and lyricism.
I’d add, though, that the three above-mentioned albums also advanced psychedelia via lyricism. The use of surreal images, non sequiturs, and alternating perspectives drew heavily on the poetic traditions of Dada, Surrealism, and the NY School, and can rightly be considered psychedelic, more so for their verbal content than their overall sound; that is, psychedelic rock, as a genre, was advanced as much by Dylan’s lyricism as, for example, Hendrix’s guitar and soundscapes. Following are 17 songs that radicalized, expanded, and defined the use of persona in popular music.
Bob Dylan, “North Country Blues” (1964)
In many ways, Dylan’s lyricism is the foundational source in terms of the expansion of persona in contemporary music. His work is also the key link to pre-‘60s folk, country, and acoustic-based blues. Songs such as “Like a Rolling Stone”, “It’s Alright, Ma”, and “Desolation Row” certainly extended the bounds of rock lyricism, reconfiguring narrative and integrating experimental poetic techniques into a popular form.
Another and earlier song, however—“North Country Blues” from 1964—clearly illustrates Dylan’s lyrical innovativeness and adept use of persona, while also demonstrating both his debt to and movement beyond his predecessors. In this song, a piece that references the hardscrabble life of miners and their families, Dylan accesses the essentials of traditional music, in addition using vivid imagery and phrasing that would serve as a launch pad for and bridge to his later and more avant garde work (the abovementioned songs and others).
The Rolling Stones, “Paint It Black” (1966)
The proto-punkish “Paint It Black” evokes feelings of bleakness, depression, and repressed rage. The lyrical and vocal tones remind one of Milton’s characterization of Satan in Paradise Lost: “Horror and doubt distract / His troubled thoughts, and from the bottom stir / The hell within him; for within him Hell / He bring”.
In terms of mood, this track runs radically counter to the ‘50s pop orientation towards uplifting themes (Chuck Berry, Jerry Lee Lewis, Elvis), though the song’s infectious melody and Jagger / Richard’s impeccable pop sense create a balancing effect, rendering the dark content irresistible, the singer utterly seductive (as only Satan can be; in fact, this song more effectively mines the “Satan as patron hero” model than does the later and more obvious “Sympathy for the Devil”). Brian Jones’ use of sitar, inspired by George Harrison’s use of the instrument on “Norwegian Wood”, adds an otherworldly and psychedelic dimension to the song.
Merle Haggard, “Sing Me Back Home” (1967)
Haggard’s voice is both rugged and endearing, the narrative both hardboiled and heartbreaking. The singer is an inmate, apparently sentenced to death, who is known in the prison for his guitar playing and singing. This inmate is asked by another prisoner, who is being escorted to the death chamber, to play a song before his execution. In the course of singing, the inmate reflects on a church visit that happened a week earlier. He ponders how he sabotaged his life, making the wrong and self-destructive decisions.
Haggard’s inmate epitomizes the hard-living and, in this case at least, rueful outsider / rebel persona embraced by outlaw country (perhaps influenced by Hank Williams, among others). It’s this kind of persona, and perhaps this song in particular, that so impacted The Byrds and Gram Parsons (the title of Parsons’ second solo album, Grievous Angel, is plucked straight from the mythos of outlaw country and rebel rock) as well as later musicians, including Uncle Tupelo and Ryan Adams (both with Whiskeytown and as a solo act).
The Velvet Underground, “Heroin” (1967)
When Lou Reed died in 2013, Greg Kot wrote an article in which he suggested that the Velvet Underground influenced rock as much as the Beatles. I think he’s probably correct. The branches of punk rock (Ramones) and art rock (Television, Sonic Youth), including shoegaze (My Bloody Valentine) and to some extent dream pop (Mazzy Star; so many current acts, including Deerhunter), can be linked to the Velvet Underground.
The Velvet Underground was the first, prototypical, and quintessential alternative band. “Heroin” best illustrates how radical the band actually was, thematically and sonically. Lou Reed spotlights the plight of the addict while also highlighting the tedium experienced by someone enslaved to such a lifestyle. While drugs had certainly been referenced in rock before the release of the Velvet Underground’s debut album, Reed’s manifesto was more direct, realistic, and unadorned that any previous work. The soundscape, including the lo-fi and both languid and incendiary guitar, perfectly complements the lyric and snarling vocal.
The Doors, “The End” (1967)
Ray Manzarek, Robbie Krieger, and John Densmore combined an appreciation for the blues with an affinity for the experimental. This musical orientation was combined with Jim Morrison’s penchant for psychedelic mysticism, his poetic lyrics a reconfiguration of Blake, Rimbaud, and the Beatniks. While the blues influences would manifest most effectively in 1971’s LA Woman (perhaps the Doors most cohesive release), it was the band’s self-titled debut and particularly this track that most lastingly asserted an iconoclastic perspective, the musical textures and Morrison’s high-Romantic lyrics drenched in what can only be dubbed “exquisite suffering”.
“The End” is a seminal song instrumentally, lyrically, and vocally, a work of musical and verbal confessionalism, memorable for its use of Oedipal references, imagistic non sequiturs, and epic dreamscapes. It’s an exemplary persona song and psychedelic manifesto.
Glen Campbell, “Wichita Lineman” (1968)
Written by Jimmy Webb, Glen Campbell’s cover is perhaps the best among various takes. The sound of the slightly flanged guitar was a progressive production move for the country genre and certainly reflects the broad impact of ‘60s rock and how cross-genres were already well in the making. Campbell’s earnest voice, coupled with the presence of pristine strings, delivers the sense of melancholic yearning experienced by the “lineman”. At the same time, the song has a polished and contained tone.
The tune is essentially a love song offered from a unique perspective. The lineman dreams about his love while he dutifully performs his job: an Everyman, a behind-the-scenes worker with an all-American ethic. In this song, Campbell conjures a palpable loneliness—his central character alone on the lines—resulting in a timeless tune and memorable persona song.
Johnny Cash, “Sunday Morning Coming Down” (1970)
Written by Kris Kristofferson and first recorded by Ray Stevens, “Sunday Morning” is sung from the point-of-view of someone hungover and coming down from a drunk (on a Sunday morning). The singer compares himself to others who seem to have more fulfilling lives, which leads him to reflect on his destructive decisions and how he’s missed out on love and belonging. Cash’s voice does the song justice, full of yearning and earnest regret.
As with Merle Haggard’s abovementioned song, “Sunday Morning Coming Down” represents the perspective of the outsider, the outcast, the man who has forsaken the “sweet things” in life. In the case of this song, the lyrics flesh out a specific narrative to which almost any listener can relate—that part of the human make-up that deals with failure more easily than success. This is a standout tale of the “lost soul”, a template utilized in earlier country and blues songs but that would become a staple in so many rock songs of the ‘70s, ‘80s, and beyond.
The Kinks, “Lola” (1970)
A quintessentially accessible song, at least sonically, the narrative is related by a man who meets and is attracted to a transgender woman or transvestite. The melodies in this song epitomize pop awareness, a proto-punk anthem that also incorporates folk and rock elements. The song was apparently banned by several radio stations in Britain and the US, and widely in Australia. (Who knew that this subject matter would be so offensive to Australians!)
Several other songs that spotlighted crossdressing were released around this time, as well, including the Velvet Underground’s “Candy Says” (1969), David Bowie’s “Queen Bitch” (1971), and Lou Reed’s “Walk on the Wild Side” (1972). However, “Lola” stands as the boldest template for this subject matter, and Ray Davies’ direct and unabashed vocal still stands as one of rock’s best moments.
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