Peck, Mattel and Yanya
The arts set us free. The arts are an antidote to movements, mostly conservative movements, that disrespect differences, that seek stifling conformity, that refuse to acknowledge people are people, and that are rooted in bigotry, hate and derision. Supporting the arts is the support of movements that shine the light on the possibilities of tomorrow, as well as the hypocrisies that hold us back.
That is why the Jackson video is so powerful. It is subversive, with a smile, a hip shake, lots of sass and its ballsy lack of self-consciousness, the song and video Jackson by Peck and Mattel, shine a light on the perverted insularity of homophobes, bigots and racists that populate our society and have an outsized voice on our political and social discourse. And, by shining that light they point to a better, more accepting place that is fun, airy, embracing, smart, hip and real.
That is the surprise of the song and its video. The homophobes and bigots live off the stage, on the side, unseen; they live in Jackson, the town towards which the two singers are heading. Unfortunately, it is not a town that would accept the likes of Peck, a cloaked gay man with gold fringe, gold leather boots and tight stripped pants, or Mattel, a drag queen with Dolly Parton hair, big lashes, big earrings, a becoming bright red dress and a painted-on smile. These two head to Jackson and the best thing that one could hope for them is their being run out of town on the rails. Just the thought of these two getting it on and being “hotter than a pepper sprout” would send the likes of a Lindsey Graham, a Ted Cruz, or a Cotton, Hawley or Cornyn – representative stand-ins for the citizens of Jackson - absolutely wacko with rage. To them and their unclean brethren Jackson is an absolute dog whistle. The citizens of Jackson might accept the heterosexual hedonism of a male partner wanting to get his rocks off with strangers, even if according to his wife he’ll just make a “big fool” of himself, but when these two (Peck and Mattel) hit town, it would as she says “wreck [their] health.” They’d be as she points out “lead … ‘round town like a scared hound,” likely with a noose around their necks. We are talking about the South here, and not the South of an Austin, or Nashville or even an Oxford. Jackson is a country song, rooted in the South, a city in either Tennessee or Mississippi, areas where the concepts of gay and transgender can’t be taught in schools and where literature with even a hint of these themes are thrown out of libraries.
That’s the subversive beauty of Peck’s and Mattel’s version of Jackson: it is done with such cheery aplomb; it is beautiful in its quirky sentimentality. There they are in an empty but gorgeous Ace Hotel soundstage in LA, with a three member back-up crew all full of grins and smiles – congenial exuberance. Nobody is worried about how they look. No one is scared. No one is angry. This is the most convivial bunch you’d ever want to meet. You look at this in comparison to what we see too often in this world and the first thing you think is Jesus, please take me there, with them.
Now, let’s compare it to Nilufer Yanya’s album Painless, getting rave reviews – 8.4 on Pitchfork. As El writes, “Yanya takes listeners through her process of grappling and healing.” She is trying to understand the pain that was inflicted upon her, and we are witnesses not to the pain but to her struggle to understand and accept that pain and to deal with it.
It is this sort of perspective which so much of our current art scene is oriented towards. It is all very me, me. Everyone is looking inward, and it isn’t usually a happy perspective. People aren’t running around like Maria singing I feel pretty. No one is rejoicing over their sanguinity. Life’s a struggle and the route out of this struggle is inward. But, not for Peck and Mattel. They don’t seem to care who they are; it is virtually irrelevant. It isn’t that Peck and Mattel are hiding; it is that it just doesn’t seem to matter. There is an utter and complete lack of self-consciousness at play here. These two aren’t finding joy because of who they are or despite themselves, it is just joy, and it is outward looking. They might get the crap beat of them in Jackson, but right here, right now, it is all great. The power of pain is that we embrace it, and of course sometimes we must, absolutely we must, but something like a breakup is just a breakup. And sometimes you have to say fuck it, let’s have a good time, and if someone gets in our way, we might hug them or push them off to the side, but we’ll move forward and enjoy ourselves. You can never tell.
