666 : Anarchy in the USA

Like any good student of American politics, I watched last week’s attack on the Capitol building unfurl with a mixture of shock and disbelief. This was not simply a protest, this was an attempted coup. The pictures from inside the under siege building were worth a thousand words, as what looked like a load of Sons of Anarchy extras (including a dude in a sweatshirt extoling the virtues of Auschwitz and another dressed like the guy from Jamiroquai) trashed the joint.  If, like me, you have Metal running through your veins then there was a certain familiar face that made collective jaws drop. There in the middle of the chaos, clearly playing a central role in storming the barricades and penetrating the inner sanctum of American constitutional values, was Jon Schaffer of Iced Earth. Not just someone who looked like him, but the actual leader of America’s second biggest power metal act (before you ask, Kamelot are the USA’s premiere purveyor of the art form).

Now Jon’s politics have never been in question. “Declaration Day” leaves you in no doubt where he stands and the stuff he recorded “Sons of Liberty” simply seals the deal. However as a card carrying leftie, who also happens to be a massive Iced Earth devote, I was rather bothered by his central involvement in this brazen act of insurrection. It led me to ponder the age old question of whether you can divorce the art from the artist. The muted media response to the death of Phil Spector is another example. Quite simply he was the architect of the modern pop sound. He perfected the concept of slick multi-layered production and was a direct influence on every song that uses luscious orchestration to create big, bold perfect pop. He also was a convicted murderer. It has been intriguing to listen to broadcasters struggle with their eulogies to the man. Every report I have heard seemed trapped in a moralistic mine-field, constrained from piling too much praise on the man for fear of underplaying his hideous crimes. The art is great, but the artist is less so (even Joey Ramone called Phil Spector a megalomaniac dictator and it takes one to know one). But is there a point where the behaviour of the artist over shadows the art so much that it tarnishes it?

As a Mancunian of a certain age, a Morrissey adoration is compulsory. He sung me to sleep on a nightly basis, as I wrestled with adolescent angst and a bucket load of social inadequacies. He spoke to me like no other songwriter has ever done and he went on to soundtrack my twenties, thirties and early forties. He is also is a complete twat, dangerously flirting with fascism. For many years, I treated him like an eccentric uncle, tolerating the offensive nonsense that came out of his mouth, because he wrote “every day is like Sunday” and “How Soon Is Now”. He was so important to me that he had, in my mind, earnt the right to be a complete bell-end. However it became harder and harder to defend the man and I felt more and more uncomfortable wearing my adoration for him on my sleeves. Last year, I finally walked away and stopped listening. No matter how good the songs were, no matter how much light they had brought to my drab teenage existence, I just could no longer divorce the magnificence of the back catalogue from the malice of the man.

I wonder if this will be the fate of Jon Schaffer? Whether those of us that love Iced Earth, but felt physically sickened by the action that unfolded last Tuesday, will have the stomach to continue support his musical endeavours. I’ll be honest and say for me the jury is still out. I am really not sure whether I will ever feel the same about the band and whether that, on this occasion, I can truly remove from the artist from the art.