Back when my cousin Cris and I were impressionable teenagers, she had several posters on her bedroom wall, including that of Billy Idol. He was larger than life with that white hair standing perfectly vertical, eyeliner blaring on the face of a man, the sneer of his upper lip perfectly enviable and begging for emulation, the spikes on his wristbands speaking of something our parents would hope we’d never ask about.. And then there was his music! I mean, holy shit, how could you not love, and maybe want to make out with, Billy Idol? His brand of punk pop rock was everywhere in the early to mid-eighties. All over MTV and Z100. With the release of Rebel Yell, Billy Idol was no longer just a punk but an ambassador of the era, and part of that role included what seemed to be a bit of a softer side. Eyes Without A Face evoked curiosity and intrigue, what with the backup singer mirroring his words in French. Les yeux sans visage…was this song a ballad? A ballad by a punk rocker? Halfway through the song, kick ass guitar riffs and ass-claps tell a different story, a more familiar tale of kick-assery. On the same album, Flesh For Fantasy. Pop punk played to death on the radio for good reason. With the flood of every other Billy Idol song, this was the one that made me want to be a punk. Parachute pants and high hair. Whatever you call them, for me Eyes Without A Face is a memory of romance and intrigue and I still love it any time I hear it, and Flesh For Fantasy will always remind me of the rebel I’d wished I could be, the one that perhaps only cousin Cristine could see.
From the historical writing archive. Original date: December 5, 2018. Recovered from local source material; editorial review is still in progress.
