FindÂing this short docÂuÂmenÂtary on “Queen of British Pop” Kate Bush was a treat for me, I must conÂfess, not least because of the always enterÂtainÂing presÂence of John Lydon (JohnÂny RotÂten from the Sex PisÂtols). HavÂing nurÂtured a deep love for Bush’s music in my youth as a sort of guilty pleaÂsure, it’s only in my adultÂhood that I decidÂed it’s ok to say, dammit, I think Kate Bush is just absoluteÂly brilÂliant and I don’t care who knows it. It’s probÂaÂbly the case that with age, all guilty pleaÂsures just become pleaÂsures (or should, anyÂway). Alright, she may have sinÂgle-handÂedÂly inspired every meloÂdraÂmatÂic 80s teenagÂer in a theÂater club to put on gauzy, homeÂmade dressÂes and twirl around warÂbling and swoonÂing, but what, I ask, is wrong with that? There are worse things birthed by pop trends, that’s for sure, and it’s arguable, realÂly, how much of Bush’s music can be called “pop,” anyÂway, since she includes so many British and interÂnaÂtionÂal folk influÂences in her reperÂtoire. And yes, it’s true, some peoÂple, like Lydon’s mothÂer (whom he quotes above), think her singing sounds less pop star and more like “a bag of cats”–a reacÂtion that seems to thrill him–but she cerÂtainÂly made an impresÂsion on David Gilmour, who passed her demo on to EMI and helped launch her career. In addiÂtion to Lydon, Kate Bush: Queen of British Pop includes interÂviews with Lily Allen, her earÂly proÂducÂers, and her brothÂer, John Carder Bush, disÂcussing her songÂwritÂing process as a young teenagÂer.
It wasn’t long after her earÂliÂest writÂing efforts that Bush was signed to EMI at the age of 16 and set about recordÂing her first album The Kick Inside. While she’s typÂiÂcalÂly rememÂbered for hits from her 1985 Hounds of Love—includÂing “CloudÂbustÂing” and “RunÂning up that Hill” (and their incorÂpoÂraÂtion into sevÂerÂal danceÂfloor hits of the 90s)—Bush’s first sinÂgle “WutherÂing Heights,” released when she was just nineÂteen, hit numÂber one on the UK and AusÂtralian charts in 1978. Bush insistÂed that this be the first sinÂgle from her album, despite the fact that, well, it’s an incredÂiÂbly bizarre song for a pop release, in its arrangeÂment and its subÂject matter—Emily Bronte’s 1847 gothÂic novÂel. But it works in a way that only Bush could get away with (covÂers of the song are genÂerÂalÂly risÂiÂble and unconÂvincÂing). She someÂhow manÂages to perÂfectÂly encapÂsuÂlate the novel’s chill and its poignanÂcy, alterÂnateÂly pleadÂing and threatÂenÂing in the voice of Cathy’s ghost, implorÂing the hauntÂed HeathÂcliff to let her in again. (For a truÂly hauntÂing expeÂriÂence, see this video of the track slowed down to an etheÂreÂal 36-minute crawl). No one else could pull off this almost-preÂtenÂtious balÂance between the subÂlime and the ridicuÂlous, comÂbined with her interÂpreÂtive dance and rolling eyes, withÂout getÂting labeled as some sort of a novÂelÂty act, but as Lydon puts it, her “shrieks and warÂbles are beauÂty beyond belief” to many ears, and she was takÂen seriÂousÂly and awardÂed an iconÂic staÂtus. Or, in anothÂer one of Lydon’s litÂtle gems: “Kate Bush and her grand piano… that’s like John Wayne and his sadÂdle.” I already warned you I’m a fan. You may just hear a bag of cats.
After the release of The Kick Inside, Bush embarked on her first and only tour in 1979. The video below is a perÂforÂmance of “WutherÂing Heights” from a GerÂman appearÂance:
For a variÂety of reaÂsons, she would nevÂer tour again and only perÂform live spoÂradÂiÂcalÂly. This is in part due to her desire to conÂtrol every part of her career, from writÂing and proÂducÂing, to perÂformÂing and proÂmoÂtion. In “Queen of British Pop,” her brothÂer describes her frusÂtraÂtion with the world of talk shows and magÂaÂzine interÂviews, which tendÂed to trivÂiÂalÂize her music and ask conÂdeÂscendÂing quesÂtions about her love life and hair styling. Any pop senÂsaÂtion should expect this, I supÂpose, but Bush resentÂed the way she was objecÂtiÂfied by her label and the press. She conÂsidÂered herÂself a seriÂous artist and set out to prove it by focusÂing excluÂsiveÂly on her work, not herÂself, as the prodÂuct, a deciÂsion that earned her a repÂuÂtaÂtion (not entireÂly undeÂserved) as a “weirdo recluse,” but also enabled her to retain comÂplete creÂative conÂtrol, make a series of remarkÂably eclecÂtic and perÂsonÂal records, and become a pioÂneer and a posÂiÂtive figÂure for dozens of female artists after her. She did make the occaÂsionÂal forÂay onto teleÂviÂsion and film after her retreat from the limeÂlight. A memÂoÂrable examÂple is this silÂly duet with Rowan AtkinÂson (in charÂacÂter as a sleazy AmerÂiÂcan lounge singer) for a 1986 ComÂic Relief conÂcert.
Bush won high praise from critÂics and peers last year for her return to “subÂlime and ridicuÂlous” terÂriÂtoÂry with latÂest album 50 Words for Snow. A 1993 docÂuÂmenÂtary called “This WomÂan’s Work,” availÂable free here, presents a longer exploÂration of her work, with sevÂerÂal interÂviews with Bush.
Josh Jones is a docÂtorÂal canÂdiÂdate in EngÂlish at FordÂham UniÂverÂsiÂty and a co-founder and forÂmer manÂagÂing ediÂtor of GuerÂniÂca / A MagÂaÂzine of Arts and PolÂiÂtics.