(Commentary) Each time Vanity Fair magazine or some other publication does one of their “green” issues or poverty pieces or a series on Africa there’s the obligatory photo and interview with U2′s Bono.
The sunglassed crooner is to be commended for his fights against AIDS and general deprivation in Africa. He actually takes the hubris out Time’s famous question about whether the Irish rocker can “save the world” and makes it into a debatable point.
Still, though, he’s a rock star. And I miss the days when rock stars just rocked and left the leftiness to geeky liberals who don’t wear sunglasses because no company makes the prescriptions strong enough to compensate for their nerd eyesight.
In short, I miss David Lee Roth. The best debate you can have with he of Van Halen fame is about Midwest farmers daughters and northern girls really knocking you out. There’s also that famous 1980s test for undercover police: If you side with David Lee you’re cool, but if you’re with the rest of the band, you’re a cop.
While Bono and other musical do-gooders like Melissa Etheridge, who sang the theme song for “An Inconvenient Truth,” are all about the big picture it’s nice to know that we have still have guys like David Lee Roth. He’s not trying to get Dennis Kucinich to stay in the 2008 race — a la the fawning Etheridge the other night in the GLBT Forum.
Asked eariler this year by Rolling Stone whether he would join Van Halen for the first time since 1984 Roth had this to say:
“I have hope and faith and that’s more than just the name of a couple of strippers from Albuquerque,” Roth said.
This is what rock stars are supposed to say. We don’t need to hear the Dixie Chicks riffing on W. or Etheridge pontificating about gay rights.
I’m not the only one who longs for the days when shallow, hedonistic rock stars ruled the stages. Give me the 80s, not the 60s.
The brilliant British Member of Parliament and newspaper columnist Boris Johnson wrote recently that he’s had enough with the likes of James Blunt singing “Beautiful.”
“When I was a nipper it was standard practice for a rock star to start the evening by biting the head off a pigeon and throwing the television out of the window before electrocuting his girlfriend in the bath and almost drowning in a cocktail of whisky, heroin and his own vomit,” Johnson writes. “Let’s face it, the rock star role models of yesterday were far more thuggish, brutal and in-yer-face than the rock stars of today, most of whom are almost embarrassing in their niceness.”