Stand by Your Man

This split is a sore spot for many fans. They'll tell you how poor Wendy O. Williams' vocals are (apparently her scratchy wailing is a bad pairing for the angelic voice of... Lemmy Kilmister), but the real reason is that the split has entered Motörhead lore as the catalyst for the departure of guitarist Fast Eddie Clarke marking the end of the band's classic lineup. Had Lemmy not carried on the band (quite ably I might add), then Williams would probably be a hated scapegoat much as Yoko Ono once was. Though the story of Clarke's displeasure with this collaboration (on which he acted as producer) comes from the band members themselves, the reasonable assumption is that this was merely the final straw in a relationship that had already soured. If Kilmister and Clarke were on the best terms with no tension between them but were then torn asunder by recording a duet for a mere EP, then some other bullshit would have parted their ways had Williams not come along* (and it'd be amazing they made it as long as they did (and yes, we're done with parentheticals for this paragraph)).

Time has brought not only sobriety to our assessment of the drama behind the making of this split but kindness to our judgment of the music within. Maybe in 1982 it was the height of gimmickry for metal/punk royalty to turn to Tammy Wynette for material, but after slews of metal and heavy rock bands covering pop songs for yucks despite the joke not being funny in the first place, “Stand by Your Man” is positively staid being neither ironic nor goofy. Wynette's lyrics convey heartache with the simple sincerity of the best country music. The traditional values it espouses are belied by the wounded resignation of lines like “You'll have bad times/And he'll have good times”. Then there's “'Cause after all, he's just a man” by which Wynette likely meant he's human therefore fallible, but which is open to a less nice reading taking a jab at men as a group. Good lyrics being insufficient for major pop success, “Stand by Your Man” was a radio smash, and then bona fide classic, because it's also a right banger, a quality not lost in Wendy and Lemmy's rendition. The tempo is cranked up and it's more boisterous even disregarding the metal instrumentation. What a shame these two didn't record more songs together. Their sandpaper voices would not be mistaken for one another, but so many timbral similarities abound that they'd be matched together on any dating site worth its salt. Were their voices characters in a romcom and they didn't end up together by the movie's end, it would be met with a resounding “The fuck?” Intonation reveals the main differences: Kilmister is steady, controlled whilst Williams is wild, explosive, though she's also capable of singing in a regular, pleasant tone; something not displayed on this song.

In that reliable split format, two covers—one of and by each band—comprise the B side. “Masterplan”, a cut from Beyond the Valley of 1984, is Motörhead's choice and a fine one it is for a rendition that is exceptional in its adequacy. Unlike the infamous A side, a fast rocker is precisely what you'd expect the band to be playing, with Lemmy's bark being a cozy fit for the angry, subversive message. Basically it's faithful, though the solo is shortened and the production is raw to the point of adding a new layer of harshness. It is not as harsh as the Plasmatics' cover of “No Class” in which Williams' vocals continually peak. This is a description not a criticism. Such raw production distinguishes this version from the one that appeared on their magnum opus Coup d'État released the same year. Even the version on the demo recordings of that album (later released as Coup de Grace) is not so rough, sounding merely unpolished. Any skepticism about the Plasmatics' ability to do this song justice can be quelled with this fact: on the live album Everything Louder than Everyone Else Lemmy dedicates “No Class” to Wendy who'd recently died. She committed suicide on April 6, 1998, the same date that saw the death of Tammy Wynette.

Stand by Your Man bears a strong resemblance to St. Valentine's Day Massacre, the last of several splits Motörhead released with Girlschool the year prior, and though that one is more solid musically, it doesn't fascinate the way this one does. The first ladies of NWOBHM shouldn't feel bad; it's hard for any band to be as interesting as Wendy O. Williams and the Plasmatics.


*There is another side of the story that hasn't been explored. While writing this review, I came across High Roller Records listing for Coup de Grace in which it is claimed by Gene of Plasmatics Media (no last name is given) that the real source of strife during the recording session was the heavy drug and alcohol use by Motörhead.