Thoughts on Mick Ronson
I can always write music. If I sit down to play, things just come out. That’s not to brag, I think that’s just a normal extension of playing a lot. It’s a benefit to times like now when there’s been so much heavy stuff in life going on, but my mind has yet to settle them well enough to thoughtfully put words onto the page. It’s hard to even write a blog post right now, let alone lyrics, but at the same time, thinking about Mick Ronson and his influence on me gives my mind a rest from the more immediate, heavier stuff that’s been going on. So, I say all that as preface to what may be a lack of cohesion to these thoughts.
Ronno, as he was known, is one of the most criminally under-appreciated musicians in pop music history. Here are a few of his accomplishments (in no particular order):
Guitarist and musical director for David Bowie from 1970 to 1973, helping to shape Hunky Dory, Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars, and Alladin Sane
Musician, arranger and co-producer on Lou Reed’s Transformer
Arranger on Mott the Hoople’s “All the Young Dudes”
Collaborator with Ian Hunter from Mott the Hoople
Arranger on Pure Prairie League’s Bustin’ Out
Worked with Bob Dylan
Production credits on John Cougar Mellencamp’s “Jack and Diane” and Morrissey’s Your Arsenal
A 2017 documentary entitled, Beside Bowie: The Mick Ronson Story is worth a watch and is available on Prime to rent. Many people think this era of Bowie is his peak, hard to argue with that, and Mick not only is as important to this sound as Bowie himself, but it’s tragic how he wasn’t given credit for it. While I may not look quite as crazy as the Spiders from Mars, they definitely are one of the artists who give me permission to express myself visually as well as sonically. Sometimes serious songwriters oversell being earnest, or worse, use being earnest as an excuse for being a curmudgeon. It’s why Oasis are the global phenomenon they are because they somehow managed to pull off being bigger than life while still being relatable and they stepped into it, as opposed to grunge’s false desire to shun it.
The music however, the distorted grind of Mick’s guitar against Bowie’s fantastical lyrics and melodies are what made those records special. Mostly simple, yet melodic and with the emotional gravity of a black hole, those songs pull you in and they don’t let you go. I’ve never heard anyone say, “I used to like Bowie”, only “I love Bowie” or “I never got into him.” Without Mick Ronson, punk rock sounds and looks different, and there’s probably no hair metal at all.
It’s Mick’s creativity that is also responsible for John Mellencamp’s only number one hit, “Jack and Diane”. Even with a song with so many memorable lines about small town American teenagers, John had already decided it wasn’t going to make the record. Then, Mick got a hold of it. And with some simple percussion and a simple, but big vocal hook for the breakdown, he single-handedly changed John’s career.
While everyone knows I’m a big fan of Morrissey and the Smiths, I have to say, Your Arsenal is definitely my favorite Morrissey album. Morrissey chose him as much to help him out at the end of his life as anything, but that doesn’t make it any less of a wise musical decision. The song quality is high, but Ronson’s stamp as a producer is felt by how consistent everything is and how good the record sounds. Coming out in 1992, at the height of grunge, this is a timeless sounding rock record with influences spanning the entire history of pop music (at the time).
What all this has taught me is, it’s about the song. If you do what’s right for the song, the rest will take care of itself. If you try to mold something to a particular sound for popularity or to keep an artist in a particular style, it’s not going to be popular or be the best example of that artist’s style. It’ll be seen for what it is: contrived. While Mellencamp may not have understood what he was doing in the breakdown of “Jack and Diane” at first, what Mick did was totally 1960s, which fit John’s style and fit the song perfectly. If you look at the charts from around that time and ask yourself if that song belonged there, you’d have to say “no” but in fact, it does belong there. It demanded to be there rather than asked to be there. Great art never asks for permission, it demands to be heard. Mick understood this better than most and it’s a shame he’s not as celebrated as the artists he helped mold.