A short time ago I wrote a post about the early 1970s hit “Kung Fu Fighting” by Carl Douglas. In that post (which you can read here) I talked about how the arrival of martial artist/actor Bruce Lee in California in the mid-1960s seemed to set off a chain reaction of events that led to the Kung Fu movie craze, a television show called Kung Fu, a hit song that predated the launch of Disco music and, finally the incorporation of Kung Fu-like moves into the repertoire of the emerging dance form known as breaking, which then evolved into one of the foundational elements of Hip Hop. From Bruce Lee landing in California all the way to Afrika Bambaataa organizing the various local music groups and factions under the unifying umbrella of Hip Hop in The Bronx in the 1970s, it all seemed like a series of events that naturally evolved, one from the other, until the full timeline of the connections was complete. But did this all just organically happen? Was Bruce Lee so absorbed in his own pursuits in Hollywood that he had no knowledge or input into the sudden surge in Kung Fu studios that opened across the country? Was he contacted by the television executives for input into the new show they were creating that eventually starred David Carradine and highlighted the philosophies that were the backbone of Kung Fu? We did find out that singer Carl Douglas recorded his big hit song completely at random, but why did his producer have such a song at the ready? Sometimes things just happen of their own accord and that is fine. However, sometimes things are more highly orchestrated than they might first appear. I thought about that as I wrote the “Kung Fu Fighting” post because as I was typing the words for that story, I was also hearing the lyrics to another song in my head. That song was “I’m the Man” by Joe Jackson.
“I’m the Man” by Joe Jackson was a song that, surprisingly enough, only ever charted well in Canada. Luckily enough for me, I am Canadian, so I heard this song while I was living in Toronto when it was first released in the early 1980s. Joe Jackson has ended up being one of my favourite artists. I fell in love with his early New Wave roster of songs, such as “Is She Really Going Out With Him?”, “Would You Be My Number Two?”, “Steppin’ Out”, “Real Men”, “Beat Crazy”, “Fools in Love”, “It’s Different For Girls” and many more. Jackson was born in England and is a pianist by trade, but he actually plays multiple instruments which allow him to create songs from a variety of perspectives. In any case, his song “I’m the Man” is one that casts a cynical eye at the whole notion of fads in society. He has always been a bit of a contrarian in his own career, constantly adopting new personae in the same way that David Bowie did throughout his career. Jackson burst on the scene when New Wave was at the height of its popularity, but as soon as he started being referred to as a New Wave artist in the press, Jackson immediately switched gears and went into Jazz and Swing music. Jackson has also released albums of classical music and is now touring North America in support of an album of turn of the century English music hall tunes based upon a fictional character that he created called Max Champion. (A post about the real life music hall star Harry Champion, upon which Joe Jackson’s “Max Champion” character is based can be read here). Jackson’s refusal to be pre-packaged for commercial consumption led him to write “I’m the Man”. This is a song filled with lyrics about how many popular fads or crazes that sweep the nations of the world are actually concocted in advertising boardrooms and that we, as consumers, are gullible and open to being manipulated on a seemingly endless basis and need to be more aware of when we are being conned. “I’m the Man” specifically mentions Kung Fu as one of the fads that was created by marketing types. He also talks about skateboards, hula hoops and the fact that a classic movie such as Jaws morphed into an amusement park ride in Florida.
To further his point, the music video for “I’m the Man” showcases Jackson in the guise of a spiv. For those who may not be aware, a “spiv” is a British term that refers to a well dressed, slick haired con man. The term originated during WWII when England had passed a law that mandated the rationing of essential goods. A spiv would be a slickly dressed man who would magically appear in neighbourhoods or town squares with suitcases filled with forbidden items that could be had for a price. In times of deprivation, many people actually admired these spiv characters as being someone who they believed had their best interest at heart because they produced items of desire or need at a time when that desire or need was at its apex. In reality, a spiv was nothing more than a profiteer or a thief who quickly and easily separated the weak and the gullible from their hard-earned money. There exists a whole subgenre of British cinema that features spiv-like characters in starring roles. In music, the most popular example of a spiv character might be the one played by Ray Davies of The Kinks in the series of songs that came from their hit double album in the 1980s called “Come Dancing”. Whatever your reference point, Joe Jackson definitely channeled his best “spiv” energy with the song lyrics and the music video for “I’m the Man”.
One of the reasons that “I’m the Man” was spinning through my mind as I wrote the “Kung Fu Fighting” post was that, for the most part, I believe what Joe Jackson says in his song to be true more often than not. I know from firsthand experience that many of the trending entertainment industry stories are being driven not by public demand but, instead, by salespeople and marketing teams behind the scenes. I know this because for a very short while I was part of that world. I have told this story before, but one of my very first jobs after graduating from university was as Assistant Marketing Manager of London, Ontario radio station CKSL. Don’t let the flashy job title fool you. Essentially, it was a minimum wage job that had two main requirements. First of all, I was responsible for distributing the paper copies of CKSL’s Top 40 list to record stores and entertainment venues that hosted live music. Secondly, I was the person who operated the promotional booths at live events. You would think that a Top 40 list would be driven by consumer demand, but the exact opposite appeared to be true. The list was compiled in ways that created consumer demand. Specifically, the Top 40 list was used to promote artists who were making appearances in the area. My first taste of this was when singer Corey Hart went to No.1 on the CKSL Top 40 list with his, in my opinion, cringe-worthy cover of the Elvis song “Can’t Help Falling in Love”. Hart went to No.1 because he was to be the headlining act at London’s annual Western Fair. Corey Hart rising to No.1 on our chart meant that there was an increased demand for tickets to his concert. Then, when the concert date actually arrived, I was the person tasked with hawking his merch to pre-pubescent girls who came to the concert because of how his looks were being marketed to the teenage demographic. There was nothing secret about how it all worked. Meetings were held months and weeks in advance regarding Corey Hart’s appearance in London. His concert was a very big deal in that city at the time, and I, in my role as minimum wage minion, was in the middle of it all by helping to operate the hype machine. I guess that I was very naïve in those days because the whole experience left an incredibly sour taste in my mouth which, in turn, fuelled my decision to not pursue a career in broadcasting but, instead, opt for being a teacher. The same must have been true for Corey Hart because, not long after that, he dropped out of the Canadian music limelight as well. Being a teen idol was not who he really was. The whole experience was exhausting to the point that eventually he physically collapsed while on tour. That was the wakeup call Hart needed to reevaluate his career and what he wanted out of it as a person and an artist. Not everything of value in this world has to revolve around commerce and the accumulation of monetary wealth. (I wrote a previous post about Corey Hart that you can read here).
Admittedly, I remain somewhat naïve in my outlook on life. I still believe that there is goodness in the world and that sometimes people achieve miraculous success in a truly organic way. I cling to the hope that success stories based on personal merit still exist and that there are leaders out there who sincerely wish to create the conditions for regular folks to experience the best that life has to offer, not because they can make a buck or two from it but because it is the right thing to do. Period. End of story. But part of my growth as a person is that I, like Joe Jackson, have grown better able to spot the spivs of our world as I mature. I know now that not everyone in the world cares about helping others to discover their own path in life. Instead, our world is filled with too many people who have dollar signs in their eyes. As our towns and cities are increasingly filled with subdivision communities in which there is no space to actually enjoy life, and we are increasingly drawn into experiencing the world through the artificial lens of technology, it is becoming easier for the spivs of today…the con men dressed in slick outfits concocted by advisers in a boardroom…to appear as saviours of the people. Don’t be fooled! Always ask yourself why these spivs appear so willing to be your friend. What’s in it for them? What’s the real con? I will end this post by telling you that just one day ago, I saw news articles about Donald Trump selling bibles in order to raise money to defray his legal expenses that are accruing from the numerous lawsuits he is involved in and losing. Apparently, many MAGA supporters are sending him the money that he has requested. A spiv is a spiv is a spiv. And fools are easily separated from their money. It is a saga as old as time. Sometimes it is important to put on those cynical pants and wade out into the world. “I’m the Man” by Joe Jackson does just that when it comes to Kung Fu and other fads of the 1970s. Perhaps Kung Fu was something that the people sincerely were interested in. More likely, it was a trend that was served to them on a silver platter, which they eagerly lapped up. Geez! Now I have the Miley Cyris song “Jaded” in my head. Time to stop. Thanks for reading my words, as always.
The link to the song “I’m the Man” by Joe Jackson can be found here. ***The lyrics version is here. *This is an audio only video but the full lyrics are written in the video description found immediately below the actual video..
The link to a “reaction” video by one of my favs Jamel aka Jamal can be found here. ***I really enjoyed watching him enjoy this song so much. As well, Jamal spoke of the musicianship evident in the whole band, especially bass player Graham Maby. It served to remind me that Joe Jackson is a singer and a musician but also often part of a band, as he was for “I’m the Man”. What a great tune, politics aside!
The link to the official website for Joe Jackson can be found here.
***As always, all original content contained within this post remains the sole property of the author. No portion of this post shall be reblogged, copied or shared in any manner without the express written consent of the author. ©2024 http://www.tommacinneswriter.com
That was a great comparison to the Kinks, Come Dancing. I bought both albums in question at the time but would not have made that connection. I actually had not got the story before about your job at CKSL! I grew up listening to that station. It seems likely while you were in London that was the period in time I lived away for most of the decade before returning in 1990. I did get the chance to see Joe Jackson at Alumni Hall, never did see Corey Hart.
If I were to ever write a book about my life, my time in London would rate its own chapter. I had very high highs there and a lot of lows, too. What happened at CKSL comes off like a low…and it sure felt like it at the time but, in reality, it was a valuable life lesson that proved to be a turning point in my life. When I graduated from high school, I thought my career would be in broadcaster as a writer. I went to Ryerson in Toronto and took Radio and TV Broadcasting with that goal in mind. But there were two different life events that revealed to me the folly of that broadcasting dream. The first one was watching my friend Ron Nelson work. As you may know, Ron was one of the people generally credited with bringing Hip Hop to Canada. Maestro Fresh Wes gave him a personal shoutout at the Junos tis past weekend. Anyway, watching that man’s incredible talent made me realize that I would never be a star. I’d only be competent. For a while, I thought that being competent might still be enough. So when I moved to London to be with this girl I had met and fallen in love with, it was always my hope that I could get into the broadcasting scene in the Forest City. When that job opening at CKSL appeared, it looked like things were unfolding as planned. I was there 3-4 months tops. I was never more than a glorified summer student. I don’t think anyone else considered me as staff. That is not to say that I was treated rudely or anything but I never had a mentor who took me under their wing. I was just some lackey/kid doing the Joe jobs than real staff didn’t want to do. In any case, the Corey Hart story is the specific reason I finally gave up on broadcasting. But, truth be told, what shocked me more than anything was the work environment at CKSL. This is where me being naive comes in. The people who worked there were constantly, constantly, constantly obsessing over the numbers. Constantly. What were our ratings? How much did that affect ad rates? Which songs had to go in which timeslots to maximize audience/advertizer reach? On and on it went. There was no joy there. It was constant pressure and anxiety. I realize that some people thrive being on the edge all of the time but I was not one of them. The whole experience was disorienting and disheartening at the time. But, in the end, I am grateful to Corey Hart and Ron Nelson and CKSL because those experiences showed me that the life I thought I was leaning toward was, in fact, not the right fit for me. Sometimes, learning what not to do is as important as knowing what the right answer always is. So, reluctantly but, with great relief, I quit a job for one of the very few times in my life after being accepted at Western for teacher’s college. I stayed in London while attending school, obviously, supply taught the following year in town while working part-time at the Suny’s gas bar on Wellington Rd, I think, pumping propane. I got my P3 propane license at Fanshawe College. The year after that I was hired full time in Toronto as a teacher and thirty years later, that was a career of which I am proud. I don’t remember much about the daily ins and outs of working at CKSL but I do recall the folks at Call the Office being the most kind to this nerdy kid delivering top 40 lists. They even comped me a draft one day after I had gotten known by them a little and invited me to sit down. They knew I was out of my element but the beer was good and I felt appreciated a bit. I was young in many ways back then in the mid-80s but I had love, I was discovering great music and I learned what my true path in life was in London, Ontario. As sour as CKSL was for me, it changed my life for the better and gave me a decent story to tell in the process so all is good. Sorry for the long reply. Lucky you for getting it.
I did enjoy reading that Tom and you certainly made the smart career move. Life lessons like that can be extremely valuable. I grew up in a blue collar neighborhood and worked at a car part manufacturer for a summer job, great money but it made me want to stay in school!
I made $5.50/hr at CKSL. I do remember that much. My girlfriend and were poor as church mice so many of the memories I have of London that I cherish are those times when we would treat ourselves to coffee and toasted raison bread at Gramma Lee’s downtown or we would hang out in Springbank Park and read in the summertime. For your information, we lived there for three and half years. During that time, We lived on Platts Lane, Rideout Street South, Commissioners Rd N/S/E/W, (I can’t remember) and then, we broke up just before I moved to Toronto to start teaching. For those final few months I shared a place on Springbank with another guy. All in all, London was a great town for the most part. I even had a job interview to be a dj at The Forest City Forum. One look at my nerdy self was all the manager there needed to take a pass on my job application. But I was comped a free drink there, too. Have a great rest of your day, Randy.
Nice to read you dig Joe Jackson. I do as well. While he has had great songs throughout his career, I’m mostly drawn to his first two albums. If I could only pick one, it would be “I’m the Man” – no bad track on this album, IMHO.
As a native German, I didn’t understand one word of English when I started listening to predominantly English music on the radio as an 8-year-old, or my 6-year-older sister’s vinyl records.
As such, all I had to grab me initially was the sound and groove of the music. From the very beginning I also paid close attention to vocals and harmony singing.
While I’m now pretty fluent in English, to this day, I tend to pay much more attention to the sound and groove of the music and the quality of the vocals than to the lyrics.
Last but not least, it was interesting to read your experience at that radio station. Sounds like you made the right decision to get out of there!
I am happy to see that some people know and appreciate who Joe Jackson is/was. I can also appreciate how you would be drawn to the sound of his music. There was a big time groove there. Like I said in the post, I’ve been a fan from the very first time I heard this song. While I haven’t followed him through his various phases, I do admire his musicality no matter what genre he is playing. He is a true pro, in my eyes. AS for the radio station gig, it wasn’t an awful place, I suppose but it also wasn’t a creative environment either. If I had wanted a business career I would have studied business in school. But I wanted to write and play music and make people happy. Silly me. At the time it was devastating. Now, not so much. I’m comfortable in my own skin. No regrets.