February 1986
Page 35
Debbie Harry: “Feel the Spin” (Warner)
For all of her contrived sex appeal and symbol manipulation, I always thought of Debbie Harry as the suburban housewife of punk. Not that she was ever motherly (at least not in the way my dear mother is), but she exuded the kind of imperturbable blandness that comes from watching too many floor-wax commercials while swallowing Valium. Which is why Blondie tried to take it to the dance floor, the wunderkinder of ironic pop fell flat. Harry’s first solo effort in four years flops on a similar ignominious grounds. Take away the psychic leverage afforded a beautiful blonde by a cool sense of irony, and she becomes just another lifeless nonentity. Blondie at its best offered hip mystique and a somehow sexy sexual negation; the image, in all its hollowness, was the point. Without the image, this record just won’t pump your blood. No warmth and no tangible sense of distance. Jellybean’s automatic pilot production does nothing to bail out the weak song or the weak performance. I’m glad she’s back and I really want to hear good music from her, but this isn’t it.
