As always, amongst the many great qualities to be found in Emily Breeze’s music, that smart combination of wit and wisdom is tantamount. Even the song’s evolution from a tongue-in-cheek lecture about how to play the game, not make waves and get on in the music industry into a middle-finger tirade, railing against such conformity and kow-towing is as funny as it is subversive.
And although the song comes from an autobiographical place, amongst the psych’ n’ roll grooves, the rising guitar intensity, and the rabble-rousing call to party, there is a very important point being made. What happened to our rock stars? Where’s the rebellion? Who is going to lead us astray? We live at a time when there is so much to rebel against, so much to be angry about, so many lines to cross, doors to kick in, barriers to jump and barricades to storm, yet the people who should be leading the charge are sat in their onesies binge-watching Netflix.
Hey Kidz is not only a celebration of rock ’n’ roll, it is a celebration of being rock and roll. It’s the My Way for the odd-balls and the outsiders, the ageing punks, the musical misfits and those who had their lives changed, perhaps even saved by music. It is a reminder also that we weren’t drawn to our musical heroes just because they wrote great songs, we were drawn to them because they came from another world. They were androgynous aliens, they were the coolest kids on the block, they were so out of step with the rest of the world that they created their own planes of existence, they were bad to know, they wore dresses made of meat, they partied too hard and, to demolish one of Jack Nicolson’s most memorable lines, they made us want to be a worse person.
Maybe rock stars are a dying breed but Emily Breeze is doing her best to breathe new life into that career path. Buy Hey Kidz, Get educated. Be prepared. The fight back starts here.