The most compelling character in the newish documentary One to One: John & Yoko isn’t either John or Yoko. It’s one A.J. Weberman, inventor of ‘Dylanology’ and ‘garbology’. He’s shown practising both in the film, rummaging through Bob Dylan’s bins for clues to the thought process of genius.
Fifty years on, two things struck me. The first is how odd it is that Lennon and Dylan would let someone as obviously potty as Weberman anywhere near them. The second is that everyone is now Weberman. Think of the Swifties who decode every missive from Taylor; the fanatics who obsess over the sexual antics of boy bands based on convoluted readings of song lyrics; and people like me who spend wintry Saturdays driving around the Jersey shore visiting Springsteen locations.
Pop songs are acts of mythic self-creation. And we pop fans are always ultimately trying to get to the bottom of it all. The myths pop stars write these days, however, aren’t the same as they used to be. Take Rebecca Lucy Taylor, who performs as Self Esteem. Though she has nothing in common with the Stones, or Leonard Cohen, or any of the men who spent decades writing about women, you can view her work entirely through a rockist lens if you wish.
Her songs could almost be replies to those caricatures of women: muse, mother, sex object, betrayer, saint. ‘I am not your mother, and nor should you want me to be,’ she sang. ‘I am not your therapist, you don’t pay me enough for this.’
Taylor’s second solo album, Prioritise Pleasure – a hymn to empowerment – became a breakout hit, causing her to find that none of her problems had been solved.
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