I just watched a documentary on the man formerly known as Cat Stevens, also formerly known as Steven Demetre Georgiou, now known as Yousef Islam, the man who renounced his gift.
Well, he does have musical talent. But at a very raw level, all of his music stopped being interesting the moment he embraced religion in 1977. Quick, name one song Stevens wrote after his “crisis”. Okay– not totally fair. For most of the religious portion of his life, Yousef did not write music, because his God did not care for it very much.
The documentary itself is one of those disagreeable, fawning tributes that almost always is the result of some kind of deal between the subject and the “journalist”. No reporter is identified. No one asks Yousef any questions or follow-up questions. There is no independent critical appraisal of the information presented on the screen. It’s a puff peace. I doubt the makers of it care much if it ultimately damages their cause. It’s possible most people don’t care.
On the most contentious issue, Stevens alleged endorsement of the fatwa imposed on Salmon Rushdie by Ayatollah Khomeini, Stevens claims he was misquoted and that his views were distorted. But then he asserts that the punishment for blaspheme is, indeed, death. “My only crime was, I suppose, in being honest. I stood up and expressed my belief and I am in no way apologizing for it.”
Okay. So you’re sorry you’re right.
Surely his recent pronouncement, in song, that he never wanted to be a star must also be taken as some kind of joke and reflects another attempt to have it both ways. Like St. Augustine in his “Confessions”, Stevens enjoys the luxury of the well-rested virtue that awakes refreshed.
Cat has kittens: 4 girls and 1 boy.
Having it both ways: Cat has renounced his music many times, and even proclaimed that many of his early songs– “Lady D’Arbinville”?– were immoral. But he sells boxed sets out of his own offices in London and helps his record company promote sales of his entire catalog. But… he also has stated that profits from the “immoral” songs go to charities, as if this somehow preserves his personal purity and absolves him of any responsibility for how his songs might affect someone.
Stevens donates considerable time and money to charities that benefit Islamic children and families. He supports four Islamic schools in London. He’s obviously a generous man, to the needy in his community. More recently, it is reported that he donated half the royalties from a boxed set of his music to the families of the victims of 9/11. The U.S. still denied him entry in September 2005 over rather spurious allegations that he had terrorist links. Holy Soviet Union!
The Flaming Lips had to pay Cat some cash, and co-credit, for a song “Fight Test” that appeared to be unduly similar to “Father and Son”. In fact, give it a listen– it’s not just a phrase that’s been “borrowed”.
How peace-loving is Cat today? Some suspect that this Peace Train might be off the rails. But the best comment on his sudden deportation might be this one: “… the theatricality with which the incident was handled should inform us as to the motivation behind it.”
Beard vs Beard: in the latest round of earnest bearded singer-songwriters from the 1960’s and 70’s, current standings:
1. Cat Stevens – best musician.
2. Kris Kristofferson – best imitation of “just folks” by a very shrewd, very market-savvy Rhodes Scholar (yes he is).
3. Donovan – performer most likely to drive you into swallowing an entire furby.
Okay, okay– I know Donovan didn’t have a beard, but he wrote “Catch the Wind”, which is almost as bad and still feels like a hairy face to me.
Cat Stevens actually had a string of some very good albums back there in the early 1970’s, from Mona Bone Jakon to Catch Bull at Four. He could be a tad precious at times, but there more than a few great songs in there, including “18th Avenue” and “Sitting”. Then all of his good taste evaporated and he released several utterly dismal, programmed albums like “Foreigner” and “Buddha and the Chocolate Box”.