In the past couple of weeks’ posts, I have considered the extent to which being the frontwoman of a (mostly) all-male band was meaningful for me in terms of my gender and sexuality. I discussed how – and to what extent – I think that I was complicit in my own “to-be-looked-at-ness” in the ways that I chose to mobilise my femininity onstage, and explained that I experienced this not as a form of resistance or acquiescence to patriarchal ideology, but as an actively enjoyable process. I concluded by noting that – paradoxically – I also wanted to be ‘one of the boys’ during my time in both bands; a desire that conflicted with my frontwoman identity in some interesting ways.
Being one of the boys is perhaps another curious identity (or subject position) for a girl[1] and, in my case, I guess that applied to all aspects of being in a rock band except for the onstage part, where it was my professional duty – and my absolute pleasure – to construct and playfully (re)produce a version of something more akin to a contemporary ‘ideal’ femininity. In her recent paper, Shelley Budgeon argues that today’s transformations of gender ideals have “materialised in the figure of the ‘empowered’ and autonomous yet reassuringly feminine woman”[2], which would indicate that holding onto seemingly contradictory gender identities of the kind I’m describing (frontwoman vs. ‘one of the boys’) is, in principle at least, acknowledged as a possibility. As with all things in life, however, possibility does not equal probability, or even actual potential. Rather, as Budgeon observes, an imagined feminine subject position of this kind inevitably circulates within a discursive field that continues to be “constituted by oppositional forces which position an imagined ‘new girl’ who is assertive, dynamic and free from the confines of passive femininity against the image of the vulnerable, voiceless and fragile girl who is too concerned with pleasing others to realise her own self-esteem”[3]. Ouch.
All of this could nicely be understood as another example of the Winnicottian “essential tensions”[4] that I have discussed in previous posts. Indeed, I never struggled with those apparent contradictions of gender myself; quite the opposite. I enjoyed the complexity of it all. It’s also worth noting that ‘being one of the boys’ means something quite different in a rock music context than it does in other spaces conventionally coded as male. I’m sure that (for example) female athletes, lawyers or business entrepreneurs would have their own stories to tell in that respect. The whole notion of masculinity in relation to rock music is also a worthy discussion topic in and of itself, of course! Any willing collaborators for a future blog post please step forward…
Peculiarly, the entire notion of how and, indeed, where my frontwoman/one of the boys dual identity was considered acceptable or comprehensible was far more often a topic of fascination and/or discomfiture for those outside the band(s) than it was for any of us on the inside, so to speak. As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, I acknowledge that my (known) status as ‘wife-of-a-fellow-band-member’ necessarily altered the ways in which I was perceived in terms of my female gender and my sexuality. Nevertheless, questions that I have actually been asked by audience members and music media people alike – and, no, I haven’t fabricated these! – include “what are the band’s sleeping arrangements when you’re on tour, then?” and “who does the hoovering at home when you and your husband are both on tour at the same time”?
It’s probably just as well that I’m not a feminist activist.
So what exactly do I mean when I refer to ‘the boys’, and to my experiences of being one of them as part of my bands? This is potentially inflammatory subject matter, I know, so I reiterate that I aim to share only my personal memories, thoughts, feelings and experiences in this blog, and nothing more.
Over the years, I have observed some interesting perceptions, assumptions and beliefs about the role of the girl in a band (beyond her onstage duties), and I think this is especially the case when she’s the lead vocalist. Such assumptions extend to said girl’s contribution to the music-writing process, as well as to the extent of her involvement in logistical, organisational and marketing activities, and the (literal) heavy lifting, all of which form significant parts of the gigging and touring experience[5]. As I’ve said before, every band and every individual artist is different, and there’s no ‘norm’ when it comes to this stuff. I was happy to contribute to it all.
This relates once more to questions of personal agency (the extent to which we feel we are able to exercise control over our own selves, our actions and our behaviours); a topic close to my heart, as regular visitors to this blog will know, and one that I explore often in these posts. I shall tiptoe around the quagmire of feminist theory today (too deep and sticky to invoke for now), but it seems to me that agency is attributed very differently to female singer/songwriters and to women whose band names are eponymous, than it is to women who front mostly male bands, regardless of their actual role and contribution to the creation of the music. Perceptions about this are also invariably shaped – sad, perhaps, but nevertheless sometimes true – by the physical appearance and the public ‘image’ of the female in question, all of which is of course often carefully constructed as part of the ‘package’, as it were. An unfortunate term but, without cynicism, let’s be realistic here about the business aspect of the music industry which surely applies just as much to small-level bands – as we were – as it does to some of the biggest household names. Now wouldn’t that be a lively discussion to have over a few bottles of wine?!? As a female who is reasonably petite in terms of bodily stature, and in possession of a relatively soft vocal style and sound, my chosen role and corresponding behaviour as ‘one of the boys’ probably created a bit of cognitive dissonance for our critics and for some of our lovely and dedicated audiences and followers. Hence the aforementioned bedroom and hoovering questions, I suppose.
Some of the characteristics that might stereotypically be associated with boys in a rock band include, but are not limited to, boisterous behaviour, excessive alcohol consumption, interesting personal hygiene habits, aggression, frequent and creative use of swearing and, in some cases, Other Naughty Behaviours. People, however, are not stereotypes, and I wouldn’t for a moment suggest otherwise in relation to the men with whom I was lucky enough to share a band. As I write this, I recall a key scene from the movie Labyrinth (one of my all-time favourite films)… “Did she say it?!?….”. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zv8uCYr1L3A. Not to worry. I rarely kiss and tell. 😊
I will however happily say that I was fully involved in the boisterousness, and in the drinking and swearing parts. Also, on some occasions, there was little choice on the matter of personal hygiene, such as the one where we spent the night in the band bus in a Dutch road lay-by (not a euphemism), following an epic navigational fail the previous evening.
It’s not so much participating in certain actions and behaviours that constitutes being one of the boys in this music-related context, though; it’s the general sense of ‘being in the world’[6] and the shared energy of the entire experience. As I remember it, I was on the whole warmly accepted into this ‘boys’ realm’, and treated accordingly by my bandmates, which I loved. I pulled my weight – literally – and helped with the actual heavy lifting, loading and unloading the gear and equipment before and after every gig, along with everyone else. Despite being on the petite side, I’m actually quite physically strong, and can now deadlift 75k and squat 30k, later-life achievements of which I am very proud. In the immortal words of Shakespeare “…and though she may be but little, she is fierce”[7]. Indeed. My awesomely cool thirteen-year-old niece bought me a pin badge bearing that exact quote as a gift for my last birthday, in fact.
I’ve never been what some might describe as a girls’ girl, either. Despite, or maybe precisely as a consequence of, being the eldest of three sisters myself (which has thus far been a decidedly un-Shakespearean experience, thankfully!), for much of my life, outside of my family and with few exceptions, I was more comfortable with and more relaxed in male company than I was among women. Large all-female groups still make me want to run for the hills. And stay there. Quite simply, I felt that I belonged among the boys, and wouldn’t have had it any other way.
The elements of my identity that I’ve described above are comfortably assimilated into the (female) musician-self that I am today, and they continue to signify her existence, even when she’s off duty, as it were. This is the case not least via my just-for-fun nom de plume Dr.Doris, who sometimes expresses herself symbolically via my avid enthusiasm for and comprehensive knowledge of beer – especially the deadly Belgian varieties – and my often distinctly unladylike use of expletives, both of which, I have discovered, are generally better appreciated when in male company. I’m very fortunate to have developed a few wonderful new female friendships in this later life period, too; with strong, independent, beautiful, funny, clever women, who inspire me greatly. Some are as passionate about music as I am. Some of them know and enjoy their beer. A few of them comfortably embrace the use of swear words, and most have curious, incisive minds and seriously impressive intellects. I’m still the odd one out, though. I’ll always be one of the boys at heart, I guess. And that suits me just fine 😊
“Me myself I / quid pro quo”[8]
REFERENCES
[1] Again, I acknowledge today’s much greater fluidity of sex and gender categories, and reiterate that I am writing from and about my own personal experiences in this respect
[2] Budgeon, S. (2014) The Dynamics of Gender Hegemony: Femininities, Masculinities and Social Change. Sociology 48(2): 317-334, p317
[3] Budgeon, p330
[4] Winnicott, D.W. (1971) Playing and Reality. London: Tavistock Publications
[5] See my post dated 30.05.2020: Beyond the lighted stage: what’s in a gig?
[6] See my post dated 19.04.2020: “You had me from hello”… maybe, in which I discuss the phenomenological work of Heidegger and Merleau-Ponty on the subject of ‘being-in-the-world’.
[7] Shakespeare, W. (1595) A Midsummer Night’s Dream
[8] The Reasoning. ‘No Friend of Mine’, from the album Adventures in Neverland. Cherry Red Records, 2012
The Walls of Wonderland 