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Honolulu Lite
ELTON John got the joke. Then he cashed in on the joke. Now he's laughing all the way to the bank, as usual. Eminem gets bad
rap for schtickJohn attached himself like a remora to Eminem and performed a duet with the controversial white rapper at the Grammys, once again salvaging a career that is so long in the tooth it would make a mastodon envious.
It was a great performance. I couldn't understand all the words, but presumably the song was real nasty.
The point is that Elton John and Eminem cut themselves out of the herd of talented musicians and stole the show, the spotlight and, I wouldn't be surprised, the furniture, carpeting and everything else not nailed down in the auditorium.
Outside the building, a rabble of anti-Eminem whackos naively played their part in the Elton John-Eminem Money Machine, protesting Eminem's gay-bashing and hate-filled lyrics. And serious commentators brooded about whether Eminem had a First Amendment right to sing songs about raping his mother and stabbing people in the head with crooked knives. They agonized over how an outspoken homosexual like Elton John could stoop to performing with someone who hates gays.
They didn't get it. These guys are actors. They are merely playing parts. They are milking the fringe of the entertainment world because the fringe is where the fame and money is at. If Eminem sang Pat Boone ballads, he'd be performing in lounges in Boise.
LET'S go back. There's this dorky white kid named Marshall Mathers who could sing a little. He looked out over the musical landscape and ruthlessly plotted a way to become rich and famous. He would have to be different. What's more different than a white guy performing rap?
Then Mathers knew he had to change his name or people would think he was the kid from "Leave it to Beaver." He needed something cute and memorable. What's one thing everybody in the world likes? Candy. So he'd name himself after candy. Let's see ... Mounds? No. Sounds like women's breasts. Kit Kat? No. Too hip. Kiss, like in "Hersheys Kisses?" Been done. M&M? Perfect! Everyone loves M&Ms! He'd spell it cool so he wouldn't be sued: Eminem. Fabulous.
Now, what to sing about? The black rappers already wore out songs about killing cops, selling drugs and drive-by shootings. But they hadn't talked about raping their mothers, killing homosexuals and other perversions that can't even be mentioned in newspapers. Bingo! A star is born.
And a career was launched. But it would succeed only if everyone didn't catch on that it is all an act. For the scam to work, gays had to become outraged, conservatives had to throw hissy fits, intellectuals had to chew on the First Amendment and the media had to over-cover the entire circus.
It worked like a charm. Elton John shrewdly saw what Eminem was up to and caught a ride. Capitalizing on others' fame is John's speciality. For a while, he made a career writing songs about dead blondes (Marilyn Monroe, Princess Di, et al). Then he hogged the Grammy stage with the Backstreet Boys, when they were at their prime. Then the Rocket Man met the Candy Man and the sweet music of cash registers rang again.
This is not to say that Elton John and Eminem are not talented. They are. But so were the other 5,000 musicians who attended the Grammys. The difference is that no one is talking about those other guys.
Charles Memminger, winner of
National Society of Newspaper Columnists
awards in 1994 and 1992, writes "Honolulu Lite"
Monday, Wednesday and Friday.
Write to him at the Honolulu Star-Bulletin,
P.O. Box 3080, Honolulu, 96802
or send E-mail to cmemminger@starbulletin.com.
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