A Comprehensive Collection From The Godfather Of Punk

Given that today's punk music comes in the form of non taleneted bands such as Green Day and Good Charlotte, many people will forget that back in the 1980s' and early 1990s', punk music actually meant something. It was used as music you could play to get stuff of your chest and have a good time, and not to rant and rave about the president (Green Day's "American Idiot", which they truly are) or the paparazzi ("I Just Wanna Live").



That being said, no original punk rocker rocked harder than Billy Idol. Sure, his songs were loud, raunchy and full of rage, not to mention completely different from anything elese on the radio at the time, but they also carried a pop sensibility that made Idol's music accessible and enabled him to fire off a huge string of hit singles between 1983 and 1990.



"Greatest Hits" has all of Idol's best known songs - "Dancing With Myself", "Mony Mony", "White Wedding", the creepy "Eyes Without A Face", "To Be A Lover" and my all time favorite, "Cradle Of Love" (which had a great video), to name a few. Added to this stunning list of 1980s' classics are lesser known tracks such as "Catch My Fall", "Don't Need A Gun", "Shock To The System" (the only track from 1993's debacle "Cybepunk"), "Flesh For Fantasy", the cover of "L.A. Woman" and the forgotten top 20 hit "Sweet Sixteen".



Also included is a new recording from Idol (whose last album was 1993's "Cyberpunk"). Ironically, it's a cover of "Don't You (Forget About Me)". The reason this song is so ironic for Billy to record is becasue most of the world has forgotten about Billy.



This is one of the rare perfect best of's ever. Also, pick up Billy's new studio album, "Devil's Playground". I haven't heard it but it's suppoed to be really good.

The talented Billy Idol

I really liked this music album, or CD I should call it. The songs were all written poetically. I'm not sure which song is my favorite. I think I like them all. It's definately going to be a classic and music lovers will enjoy it. Billy Idol definately rocks well.

With a rebel yell, he cried "MORE! MORE! MORE!"

The irony of punk - its prominence in the Billboard top-40, its safe-angst popularity and ubiquitous mediocrity - can trace its roots to the MTV staple and pop-icon that is Billy Idol. To wit: a movement all about rage and rejection, about being the "outsider," would in a few short years be totally embraced by the mainstream, its image and aesthetic carefully packaged for those seeking easy rebellion; punk found the ultimate desecration in the man who sold out and sold big-time, the poseur who incorporated all the tics and trash-glamour, the posture and the sneer, swathing punk superficialities upon banal synth-rawk and deeming it good: Billy Idol epitomized the irony of punk - and the real punchline, of course, is that his music held more honesty in its playful hedonism, in its celebration of nothingness, than the resultant dirge-work of most of his "peers": the brute atonality of the Swans or the stupid misanthropy of the Fear; in that his music stands up stronger two decades later than all that oh-so-serious dross. Pretty Vacant indeed!



Now that I've eliminated the hardcore faithful with these opinions, let us delve a little deeper into this fascinating figure, the man and myth that is the Idol. It's been many years since I viewed Billy in his incarnation on MTV, gyrating suggestively on the stage, resplendent in punk clichés: the peroxided coif (so carefully mussed) and those crucifix-earrings, the leather pants and chest hair a-bristle, the Cali-tan and everpresent sneer augmenting his Aryan-worthy features: to those few of us that take pride in being pop culture navigators and sardonic social critics, Billy Idol is both a hero and a point of damnation, the savvy thief and hardcore necronerd Anti-Christ, someone to secretly worship and feel shameful about it. It is thus interesting to note that Billy began as a "true" punk, attending Sex Pistols shows in his raconteur youth, playing part in seminal excursions like Chelsea and Generation X. He left the latter band with one indelible single, 'Dancing with Myself,' power-pop with a lyrical punk motif. Jury, turn your attention to Exhibit A: "Your empty eyes seem to pass me by/when there's nothing to prove and nothing to lose, I'm-a Dancing with Myself," etc. Spearheading the jaw-dropping oxymoron that is disco-punk, 'Dancing with Myself' refuted the origins of the genre (after all, punk began as a rejection of the soft rock sensitivity and disco-glut that dominated the late-70's) and established Billy Idol as the cartoon artiste, equal measure sex-swagger and romper-stomp, punk menace with a silly preen. Simply brilliant!



*Rebel Yell* further refined the music and the stance, as Billy Idol embraced the Me-decade ethic of the 80's, defining the greed and excess and o'erweening confidence of the era via visual splendor and sublime lyrical poignancy. Jury, I point to Exhibit B: "With a rebel yell, she cried MORE! MORE! MORE!" Says it all, folks. *Rebel Yell* contained the three-punch knockout of the title track, the blistering 'White Wedding', and the soulful 'Eyes Without a Face' that perhaps predict Billy's eventual incarnation as a Vegas crooner. Indeed, examining Idol's roots and method - taking the sound of the downtrodden and exploited and using it as top-40 fodder - why, Idol was nothing short of a New Wave-era Elvis, a role he would come to embody and gleefully pay tribute to, climaxing with the 50's Stax/Volt mewlings of 'To Be a Lover' and 'Sweet Sixteen'.



The late 80's were not so kind to Idol: drug addiction put a low ebb to his creative fire, and this greatest hits package neglects the more edgy material of this period (such as a raging 'World's Forgotten Boy,' one of Idol's best songs) in lue of the borderline parody of 'Don't Need a Gun' or insubstantial fluff like 'Sweet Sixteen'...wait a minute, parody, fluff...perhaps I exaggerate, for it can be argued that ~all~ Idol's material is encompassed by these descriptive terms...but I digress. Idol had a major comeback in 1990 with the album *Charmed Life*, which produced the girl-writhing-on-the-bed video-hit of `Cradle of Love' and a cover of the Door's 'L.A. Woman' which (and I know this is considered unforgivable heresy) I prefer to the original: at least Billy comes off as sincere, in contrast to Morrison's very apparent drunken ramblings.



*Charmed Life* was Billy Idol's career peak, a fact given credence by this greatest hits package: only one song from the much maligned, ill-conceived *Cyberpunk* album makes the cut, 'Shock to the System,' and this compilation is rounded out by a live version of 'Rebel Yell' complete with acoustic guitar (!) and a hard-edged cover of Simple Mind's 'Don't You (Forget About Me).' Yes, by all appearances Idol has now been relegated to `has been' status (greatest hits packaged are usually a sure sign of it), but then again, you never can tell... perhaps the current neo-retro trend that has dominated pop culture in the last few years will see a re-emergence of the Idol; the time seems ripe for ego-driven synth-rock to kick emo and sensitive-alternative in the seat of the pants, to establish male-centric posturing back into the Zeitgeist.



And I for one certainly hope so! It may seem by the tone of this review that I'm contemptuous of Idol's career, but I'm not so much disdainful as I am ~amused~, and, lest I forget, consistently entertained by the pop-gems the man has so meticulously forged. Three-quarters of this packaged contains some of the most braindead delightful escapism the 80's have to offer, and I can never resist dancing with myself when the kick-drum hits and the guitars milk every last ounce of power-chord emotion; when coupled with Idol's catalogue of 'yeah!' 'babe!' and miscellaneous grunts, I find myself in nostalgia's seventh heaven. It's certainly better than 90% of the power-punk on the charts these days: for Idol can be considered both the spiritual father and musical titan that these suburbia-hooligans, with their trendy tattoos and anatomically-correct piercings, aspire in vain to surmount. Essential!