Was billy squier gay
From a particular vantage point, the trajectory of the pop-rock artist Billy Squier might solely be perceived as unsuccessful. Though ascending, he encountered a significant obstacle, leading to a dramatic derailment. Nevertheless, when measured against contemporary benchmarks, Squier stood out as an immensely accomplished musician, both commercially and critically; indeed, even during his period of perceived decline, his achievements surpassed those of numerous artists currently dominating the music charts. Reflecting upon his journey, it appears Squier's narrative is uniquely a product of the 1980s, standing out amongst the peculiar accounts within rock and roll lore as one of the rare instances where triumph itself became a curse.
Having originated in Boston, Squier pursued his musical endeavors for more than ten years prior to achieving widespread recognition in 1980. A nine-album contract was secured with Capitol Records, which represented a substantial financial commitment towards an untested artist, given his lack of a significant professional history prior to this agreement. His inaugural album, titled The Tale of the Tape, achieved modest success, positioning Squier as a vocalist with a melodic, Robert Plant-like quality, who comfortably navigated both the pop and rock genres, apparently without hesitation in embracing either. Even though the album did not feature any significant chart-topping singles, it is highly probable that a portion of it has reached your ears, primarily due to the opening track, ‘The Big Beat,' which subsequently evolved into one of the most frequently sampled compositions within the annals of rock music. Do you recognize that colossal drum sound featured on Jay-Z's '99 Problems'? Indeed, that distinctive sound originates from our very own Billy. One could even reasonably contend that Dizzie Rascal's ‘Fix Up, Look Sharp' is, in essence, a reinterpretation of the track.
In 1981, Don't Say No was released next, yielding his initial chart-topping single, ‘The Stroke,' and his momentum was sustained in 1982 with Emotions in Motion, an album featuring artwork crafted by the iconic Andy Warhol. While asserting Squier's place among rock's elite might be an overstatement, he had undeniably cemented his reputation as a powerful and unique musical talent, possessing a reputable pop-rock aesthetic. When evaluated in the present day, his initial trio of albums are perceived as robust, courageous compilations of unadorned rock music, albeit meticulously shaped to align with their post-new wave release period. Although undeniably characteristic of their era, their quality remains undiminished.
Subsequently, the advent of a network known as MTV fundamentally altered the landscape. All at once, merely achieving a popular song on radio airwaves became insufficient, as polished music videos emerged as the novel instrument for widespread achievement. Squier possessed an initial advantage over the majority of his rock music contemporaries, having previously created promotional footage for his singles dating back to his first album, and his appearance as an attractive young man with prominent cheekbones undeniably proved beneficial. Possessing a sound readily adaptable to mass appeal, Squier found himself in an ideal position to leverage this nascent medium, which was heavily reliant on visual presentation and popular appeal.
This is precisely what transpired subsequently, and through a truly peculiar sequence of occurrences, it utterly undermined Squier's professional trajectory.
Released in 1984, Signs of Life emerged as Billy Squier's most commercially successful album, achieving sales exceeding two million units. Much of this triumph could be attributed to the phenomenal popularity of the album's principal single, ‘Rock Me Tonight.' This track, a dynamic and evocative pop composition, is characterized by a prominent synthesizer melody and is replete with catchy elements. While its sound appears considerably more anachronistic than any material from Squier's initial three LPs, it resonated perfectly with the prevailing trends of that period, ultimately becoming his highest-ranking single on the charts.
Having already grown familiar with the evolving industry dynamics, Squier contributed to the visual conceptualization (storyboarding) of the song's accompanying video; its debut on MTV was met with considerable fanfare, being promoted as among the priciest music videos produced up to that time. Orchestrated by choreographer Kenny Ortega, the creation of the video experienced a challenging development process, having previously been handled by multiple directors, such as Bob Giraldi (responsible for ‘Beat It') and David Mallet (known for ‘White Wedding'). Squier asserts that his initial vision involved a raw, realistic depiction of the preparation ritual for attending a rock concert: the acts of dressing, dancing, and grooming one's hair (a common pre-event routine, isn't it?). Ortega's interpretation, however, diverged slightly; although the fundamental narrative remained consistent, the manner of its realization underwent a significant alteration.
The visual narrative commences with Billy rousing from slumber in his bed, enveloped by satin coverings. He then gracefully exits his bed, dons a pair of form-fitting white denim trousers, and proceeds to move rhythmically about the chamber, admiring his reflection. Subsequently, he experiments with multiple different t-shirts, continues his interpretive movements, and eventually culminates in a performance alongside his entire ensemble. Furthermore, his dancing persists. To be frank, this textual portrayal fails to capture its essence adequately; perhaps, with a stroke of luck, a link to the actual video can be provided. Suffice it to state, conceiving of it as stark and intense, in line with Squier's asserted original vision, proves challenging.
The public's response to the visual presentation was astonishing, with the majority of commentators either expressing profound dismay or erupting into fits of amusement. Nevertheless, as the song achieved success, its increased airtime on radio stations directly correlated with a surge in its broadcast frequency on MTV. Abruptly, the pervasive depiction of Squier, attired in white trousers and a pink waistcoat, gyrating on his satin bed linen, became ubiquitous, provoking outrage among enthusiasts of rock music.
The primary objection leveled against Squier centered on his perceived 'gay' appearance, a characteristic that, within the 1984 rock scene, proved exceedingly difficult to overlook or pardon. Industry insiders, members of the press, and even the fan base initiated conjectures that Squier was either homosexual or, at a minimum, under the influence of illicit substances. Customarily, within an environment heavily influenced by concepts of virility and aggressive male pride, his drug use was considered significantly more tolerable than any suggestion of homosexuality. Internally, among professionals, the track acquired the moniker ‘Cock Me Tonight,' and as public disagreement intensified, Squier observed an unusual phenomenon unfolding. Even though it was achieving significant popularity on mainstream pop charts, the concert halls where he was performing saw an escalating decline in attendance.
Afraid of being perceived as attending a 'gay' performance, devotees of rock music chose to remain at home instead of confronting the potential censure associated with appearing at a Billy Squier concert. Paradoxically, as the composition gained greater traction, Squier was compelled to witness his achievements and artistic reputation gradually erode.
During the subsequent years, Squier endeavored to obscure the controversial video, steadfastly asserting it was neither his original concept nor its final outcome what he desired, while earnestly attempting to convince his admirers that he was a quintessential heterosexual man. He subsequently failed to achieve significant chart presence, though he continued to issue records deep into the 1990s prior to focusing primarily on concert performances and joint projects with fellow musicians. Reflecting on his past in a publication detailing the evolution of MTV, he recalled feeling no regret concerning any aspect, yet conceded that ‘Rock Me Tonight' represented 'A regrettable episode within an otherwise fulfilling existence.'
Aversion to homosexuality has historically permeated the music sector, particularly regarding its self-perception. The profound paradox lies in the fact that numerous individuals instrumental in shaping rock and roll into the enduring cultural phenomenon it has become were, in fact, homosexual. It is noteworthy that Billy Squier maintained significant connections with Queen, and its frontman, Freddie Mercury, had grappled with his own issues concerning public image several years prior to Squier's experience. Upon the 1982 release of Hot Space, Queen faced an extraordinary negative reaction, especially within the United States. The creation of Hot Space constituted an artistic exploration, largely influenced by Mercury's encounters within gay nightlife establishments and his desire to re-create the sonic atmosphere he had encountered there. In a well-known incident, Mercury's defiant response to the ensuing contention was to declare, 'It is merely a musical recording!'
Perhaps his assertion held truth. However, for an individual such as his acquaintance, Billy Squier, concurrence would have likely proved challenging, considering he was branded homosexual and subsequently marginalized, solely owing to some rather expressive dance moves. Squier, on his behalf, appeared acutely conscious of the intrinsic complexities of the situation, diligently attempting to convey that, fundamentally, homosexuality itself posed no issue, despite his own heterosexual orientation. Nevertheless, the detriment had already occurred.
To a degree, should one seek a positive resolution to this narrative, it might be discerned in how the music industry has, to all appearances, reached an accommodation with its previous aversion to homosexuality. While prejudice against women and homosexual individuals have by no means vanished entirely, contemporary rock aficionados generally denounce overt misogyny, and perceptions of homosexuality have undoubtedly softened, owing significantly to Rob Halford of Judas Priest. In essence, if the revered "Metal God" himself is openly homosexual, can there truly be any ongoing objection?
Yet, such biases persist, and upon reflection of Billy Squier's narrative, one cannot help but experience a degree of regret. Should a similar event unfold in today's musical landscape, would spectators idly observe it, perhaps chuckling like mischievous schoolchildren? Alternatively, would individuals advocate for a different outcome and make their presence known? Regardless, Squier appears to have come to terms with his history, and the continuous stream of hip-hop artists seeking to provide him with royalties certainly serves as a consolation. Nevertheless, for any musician aspiring to achieve that groundbreaking record destined to elevate them to stardom, consider the plight of Billy Squier, and bear in mind that fame and fortune are often not as idyllic as they appear. Steven Rainey