Hit Parade Of Hell: The Liner Notes Of John Waters

Your Music Appreciation 101 professor, John Waters.

A stack of John Waters soundtracks on CD.

This will seem impossibly quaint to you youngsters, but music used to be bought and sold as a tangible, physical commodity. In other words, it was a thing you had to go get. In actual, brick and mortar stores, no less! First came the wax cylinder, then the vinyl record, followed by the 8-track, the cassette, and finally, the compact disc. Nowadays, music is all just ones and zeroes to be uploaded and downloaded in the twinkling of an eye over the internet.

For the most part, this change has been a good thing. More music is available to more people more quickly than ever before. But we have lost a few things along the way as we've abandoned physical media. Liner notes, for instance. Remember those? Yes, albums used to come complete with little explanatory essays that told you something about the music contained within. To me, the king of liner notes was cult movie director John Waters. He took obvious delight in penning the notes that accompanied the soundtrack albums for his movies, explaining exactly what these songs meant to him and even giving his listeners instructions on how to listen to the albums for maximum effect.

Much of Waters' writing has been collected and anthologized in book form elsewhere. But, to my knowledge, his soundtrack album liner notes have never reappeared anywhere. So before they vanish from memory completely, I thought I'd showcase them here. I had to scour through my musty, dusty underground storage locker to retrieve these little items, which I present in roughly chronological order. Notice that Waters' texts become more elaborate over time, from a humble paragraph for Hairspray in 1988 to a 450-word essay for A Dirty Shame in 2004.

This collection is not complete. I have yet to transcribe the notes for two compilation albums curated by Waters: A John Waters Christmas (2004) and A Date With John Waters (2007). Perhaps if the reaction to this article is positive, I will dig those up, too. (Update: I have.) In the interest of historical accuracy, I have tried to present these notes exactly as they originally appeared, with all spelling, punctuation, and grammar intact.

Enjoy.

Being even feels so odd

A pivotal scene from John Waters' A Dirty Shame

John Waters' A Dirty Shame (2004) -- to date, the Baltimore provocateur's latest film --  is a crude, often lowbrow and childish slapstick sex comedy which features CGI squirrels, gigantic fake breasts, obscene shrubbery, and a David Hasselhoff cameo. In other words, even though I'm proud to have it in my DVD collection, it is not exactly Oscar bait.

But it does contain a scene which has been running through my head a lot these last few days.

The plot in a nutshell: uptight Baltimore wife and mother Sylvia Stickles (Tracey Ullman) gets a concussion which turns her into an unapologetic, promiscuous sex addict. Soon, she finds herself part of a cult of sex addicts led by the mysterious Ray Ray (Johnny Knoxville) and realizes that many seemingly "normal" members of her community are sex addicts as well. Ultimately, there is a chaotic war for control of the neighborhood, with sex addicts on one side and the prudish, judgmental "neuters" (led by Waters' resident villainess Mink Stole) on the other. I think you can guess who wins.

Anyway, at one point, Sylvia's concerned husband and mother have a doctor visit the Stickles household, and there he tries to convince both Sylvia and her similarly-libidinous daughter Caprice a.k.a. Ursula Udders (Selma Blair, wearing an absurd prosthetic chest) that their problems can be solved through pharmaceuticals. Selma Blair vehemently protests ("I'm NOT depressed!") but ultimately is coerced into taking the pills.

The uneven John Waters

John Waters always does hilarious, informative commentary tracks on his movies, and his remarks during this scene are fascinating:

"I always have in all my movies, like, different doctors forcing medication on people. You know, I think tranquilizers are good for people that are chemically depressed, but I also think every brand is completely over-prescribed. What happened to 'the talking cure' with psychiatrists? They don't have that anymore! I'm for that! I don't want to be 'even.' I'm on her side here when she says, 'I'm not depressed!' Being 'even' sounds worse than being depressed."

I may well be chemically depressed. I don't know. I'm not a doctor. But I share Waters' skepticism of being "even." If there were one word I wish I could ban from the critical vocabulary, it would be "uneven." Critics, both professional and amateur, are constantly complaining these days about works being "uneven." Since when did evenness become the standard by which art is judged. Whatever happened to consistency being "the hobgoblin of little minds?" To me, evenness is for sideburns, suburban lawns, and wallpaper. It's not for art and definitely not for comedy.

I used to theorize that the rise of the word "uneven" as a critical cliche was a side effect of all the mood-stabilizing drugs we've been gobbling up as a society. Well, now I'm actually on at least two of those drugs, and I worry about being too flat emotionally and losing the highs and lows which make life entertaining. It's true that I have some crushing, even life-threatening lows, but there's a goofy, playful side to my personality, too. I don't want to lose that side of myself. Lately, that part of myself seems to have evaporated.

Fortunately, I had my first meeting with my new therapist today, and it went very well. I explained a lot of these fears to her, and she completely understood what I meant. She said that my body would eventually adjust to the medications and, if it didn't, those medications could be switched until we could find a combination which worked for me. That was extremely encouraging news. I want Joe Blevins to be well, but I don't want "Wayne Kotke" (my silly side) to go away either.

Financially, I think I'm going to be able to handle this treatment without having to ask relatives for help. I'm fortunate to have a bit of a cushion to fall back on and no existing debts or dependents. But if I end up selling pencils on the street, you'll know what happened.