FEATURE:
Kate Bush: Them Heavy People: The Extraordinary Characters in Her Songs
IN THIS PHOTO: Kate Bush at the premiere of Hounds of Love at the London Planetarium on 9th September, 1985/PHOTO CREDIT: Dave Hogan/Getty Images
Your Hounds of Love (Hounds of Love)/Beelzebub (Kite)
__________
I have….
IN THIS PHOTO: Kate Bush in 1979/PHOTO CREDIT: Jill Furmanovsky
talked about God and Jesus in this feature run, and I have also mentioned a historical embodiment of The Devil, Adolf Hitler. Characters in Kate Bush songs that have taken me in different directions. Bush is no stranger to incorporating religious figures and iconography into her songs. The same regarding historical figures. Joan or Arc mentioned in more than one song. I will come to a devilish mention in a song from The Kick Inside that has an interesting history. Before getting there, it is worth discussing animal characters from perhaps her greatest song. I will come to the argument as to whether Hounds of Love is her finest achievement. Many consider it to be Kate Bush’s best songs. I could have also mentioned the fox that is referenced in the track (“I found a fox caught by dogs/He let me take him in my hands/His little heart, it beats so fast/And I'm ashamed of running away”). I always think of that fox as a metaphor or symbol of the heart. Being torn by the hounds of love. The album title, perhaps, not referencing actual dogs. Even though Kate Bush is photographed on the cover of her 1985 with her two Weimaraners, Bonnie and Clyde, I don’t think the ‘hounds’ in Hounds of Love’s title track are canine. More spirits or a dark energy that is chasing her. There is a lot to discuss when it comes to this iconic track. I shall come to the question as to whether it is Kate Bush’s best track. There are some features that rate it number one. In terms of the characters, Your Hounds of Love, I see this a cross between actual hounds and a spiritual evil. We do find Bush stop to take a fox in her hands. One whose heart is beating so fast. Does that fox represent her own heart or courage dying? Are they literal hounds capturing an actual fox? I think it is open to the listener. Before I explore subjects relating to the song and those hounds, Kate Bush explained the meaning behind that epic title track. The third single from Hounds of Love, it reached eight in the U.K. Even if Bush said in one or two interviews it was about love in general or relating to someone else, I think this is a song about her. One of her most personal to date. Kate Bush did explain her thoughts behind Hounds of Love:
“[‘Hounds Of Love’] is really about someone who is afraid of being caught by the hounds that are chasing him. I wonder if everyone is perhaps ruled by fear, and afraid of getting into relationships on some level or another. They can involve pain, confusion and responsibilities, and I think a lot of people are particularly scared of responsibility. Maybe the being involved isn’t as horrific as your imagination can build it up to being – perhaps these baying hounds are really friendly.
Kate Bush Club newsletter, 1985
The ideas for ‘Hounds Of Love’, the title track, are very much to do with love itself and people being afraid of it, the idea of wanting to run away from love, not to let love catch them, and trap them, in case th hounds might want to tear them to pieces and it’s very much using the imagery of love as something coming to get you and you’ve got to run away from it or you won’t survive.
Conversation Disc Series, ABCD012, 1985
When I was writing the song I sorta started coming across this line about hounds and I thought ‘Hounds Of Love’ and the whole idea of being chasing by this love that actually gonna… when it get you it just going to rip you to pieces, (Raises voice) you know, and have your guts all over the floor! So this very sort of… being hunted by love, I liked the imagery, I thought it was really good.
Richard Skinner, ‘Classic Albums interview: Hounds Of Love’. BBC Radio 1 (UK), 26 January 1992“.
If not literal dogs that are tearing apart Bush, I do feel that they are characters in the song. In the video, we do see Bush and her male compatriot running. There is this chase. I shall come to that. Even though Hounds of Love is arguably her finest song, some critics were sharp and sexist. To show how tinned-eared, misogynistic and insulting journalists (male mostly) were in 1986, here are two examples of reviews for Hounds of Love:
“All mock, muted orchestration and thumping mock-tribal drums, this is Kate simply being Kate, and whether that makes you want to roll around in sandpit is strictly up to you.
Jim Reid, Record Mirror, 22 February 1986
Bush has always strived to be different, but this quest has often led her astray – an olive stone in the ashtray of life. ‘Hounds of Love’ eschews the lentil nightmare as Bush reaches notes most groups never even dream of.
Ted Mico, Melody Maker, 22 February 1986”.
I do think that Hounds of Love is this fascination song. In the song, we hear Bush actually make yelping/barking noises. Giving the impression that there are dogs chasing her. In terms of the concept and idea of the song, this was very different to what other artists were doing. They were more literal regarding fears, the terror of commitment and being chased by love. Rather than go down this route, Kate Bush gave the idea that these hounds of love, who you might feel were warm, benign or would be loving, are actually frightening. Or that she had built that into her mind. Perhaps they would catch her and be all friendly and lick her. There is darkness and horror in this track. At the start, the line “It’s in the trees!/It’s coming!” is quote from a line spoken in the film Night of the Demon by Maurice Denham. Although the plot of the film (an American psychologist who tries to combat an evil cult leader who can sentence his enemies to death through the use of a runic scroll, given to his victims without their knowledge) cannot be connected to Hounds of Love and its meaning, Kate Bush did reveal it was one of her favourite films. Another occasion of films making their way into Bush’s work. This was not new. So many examples through the years. Though there does seem to be this horror element. Bush playing with ideas of possession and the spiritual. Something she did in Wuthering Heights (1978). 1986’s Experiment IV is about a machine that is built that could kill people with sound. Hallucinations, spirits and the macabre can be found elsewhere on Hounds of Love. Mother Stands for Comfort and Waking the Witch are examples.
Even though Kate Bush often referenced Horror and films in her work (Get Out of My House from 1982’s The Dreaming was inspired by Stephen King’s, The Shining), she didn’t bring in actual audio from someone else. That Night of the Demon exert is a great way to start the song. I keep thinking about the hounds and whether they are physical bodies. Kate Bush saying it is less literal, I tend to find myself coming on the side that she may have had dogs in mind. Bonnie and Clyde were her dogs. Looking and thinking of them when writing the songs, what is they turned on their master? Dogs seem to embody love and devotion. Turning them into these possessed things chasing down a woman is very scary. Though it could be Bush’s mind manifesting this anxiety into a nightmare situation. The video for Hounds of Love was the first Bush directed solo. She assisted and collaborated on other videos. This was her first solo credit. Influenced by Alfred Hitchcock's The 39 Steps, there is a supporting artist in the video that is meant to be Alfred Hitchcock. That is a reference to the director cameoing in many of his own films. Bush was now the director. Gow Hunter is Bush co-lead in the video. He is seen dancing alongside Bush while the pair are handcuffed together in a dramatic, Night of the Demon-inspired sequence. Bush said that the late Gower was "a lovely man" with "the face of a great film star". Even if you feel the hounds of love are spirits or not real, there does seem to be this idea that they can be seen and have a real form: “Among your hounds of love/And feel your arms surround me/I’ve always been a coward/And never know what’s good for me/Oh, here I go!/Don’t let me go!/Hold me down!/It’s coming for me through the trees/Help me, darling/Help me, please!/Take my shoes off/And throw them in the lake/And I’ll be/Two steps on the water”. Even though the words are quite heavy, the cello by Jonathan Williams and percussion from Charlie Morgan and Stuart Elliott gives Hounds of Love this lightness. The percussion acts as a heartbeat, but the cello has this sense of grace. Or is it meant to be stabbing? I feel there is something more romantic and classical mixed in with this blackness. Buh’s vocals and playfulness also balances out the sense of fright and impending attack. Her production work is also startling and brilliant. It is like this cinematic production.
As much as I have theorised about the tangibility and physicality of Your Hounds of Love that is mentioned in the lyrics, is the song actually Kate Bush’s best? For a while, there was a consensus that Running Up That Hill (A Deal with God) – the lead single from Hounds of Love – was her best track. Wuthering Heights had that honour for a time. MOJO ranked her fifty best songs in 2024. They placed Hounds of Love at number one: “No matter how refined the circumstances of its creation – built at leisure in Bush’s new 48-track studio – or how newfangled its production – still tangible in the hi-tech stabs and pads of Fairlight, and the crispness of Jonathan Williams’ cello – Hounds Of Love is red in tooth and claw, its breathless, atavistic fear of capture mixed with almost supernatural rapture. Love is thundering through the psychosexual woods, hunting down somebody terrified of what it means to surrender to another person. The song opens with a quote from British horror film Night Of The Demon but that’s the only moment it feels like theatre. From then on, Hounds Of Love maintains a dizzying emotional velocity, the relentless double drumming of Charlie Morgan and Stuart Elliott stamping down on the accelerator. Bush’s voice might dip and soften, but those drums are merciless, while the strident backing vocals, like a hunting horn call, goad her on if introspection threatens to slow her down. It never lets up, every line heightening the pitch, closing the distance between song and listener. It ends with a suddenness that makes it seem like she’s hit the ground and you’ve hit it with her, breathlessly waiting for an answer to the question: “Do you know what I really need?” The uncertainty, however, is not reflected in the confidence – the perfect, dazzling completeness – of the song’s execution. On Hounds Of Love, Kate Bush is going at full pelt, chasing the horizon, running her vision to ground. Not really the hunted, but the hunter all along”. The Guardian ranked Bush’s singles in 2018 and placed Hounds of Love in fourth. They did say this: “The moment when its mood of pregnant fear finally shifts into one of gleeful surrender – “don’t let me go, hold me down” – is one of the most jubilant in Bush’s catalogue”. As foreboding as I have made the song sound, in the end, Bush/the protagonist surrenders to what is chasing her. That is when you get that literal sense of hounds actually wanting to show affection and love. Seeing them as snarling and in search of blood, it is only Bush’s doubts and fear of commitment that is creating this paranoia and fright. By stopping running and showing trust, she actually embraces what is chasing her. It might be a representation of Hounds of Love as an album and this huge project she undertook. Some of the doubts and bad sides of doing that. Taking so much on. However, she was the master and in control. Someone who could more than handle the hounds of love.
From a 1985 contender for Kate Bush’s very best song to a track from her 1978 debut album, The Kick Inside. Kite is one that a lot of fans know, yet it is rarely talked about. Not viewed as up there with her best, though it is a wonderful song. Again, rather than perhaps a physical manifestation of a character, perhaps something more internal or non-literal. Though Kate Bush does name-check Beelzebub, so I am counting that. It is an interesting reference, in terms of how he fits into the song. There are comparisons with Hounds of Love. In the sense that there are these intense feelings inside. Both I think relate to Kate Bush, though she says in interviews how they are not personal. If Hounds of Love is about a fear that then turns into embracing this and seeing that it is good, Kite’s struggle is the need to get high. I sort of imagine Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds and The Beatles claiming it is not about LSD. Kite is very much a weed song (Kate Bush’s version of the Paul McCartney-penned Got to Get You Into My Life from Revolver, perhaps? A song very much about that desire to get high). One I feel has more of Kate Bush in it then she lets on. The Devil name-check gets me wondering. Why select that particular character and figure as a starting point? If it is a casual and almost goofy reference to Beelzebub, I do think that this Devil in her stomach is this desire to be pushed upwards. “Beelzebub is aching in my belly-o/My feet are heavy and I’m rooted in my wellies”. For Music Talk in 1978, this is what Kate Bush said about Kite: “In the song, the character starts to feel that he is rooted to the ground, but there is a force pulling him up to the sky. A voice calls out, “Come up and be a kite”, and he is drawn up to the sky and takes the form and texture of a kite. Suddenly he’s flying “like a feather on the wind”, and for a while he enjoys it; but the longing for home and the security of the ground overtake these feelings”. There is something in those lyrics. I wanted to focus on Beelzebub, as that was an interesting choice. Maybe it was a stream-of-consciousness inclusion from Kate Bush.
It is another case of religious imagery coming into Bush’s songs. Jesus has made an appearance. God most memorably, in 1985’s Running Up That Hill (A Deal with God). That was probably the most serious or grand use of a religious figure. In the case of Kite, this is basically a song about Bush getting high. She may say that it is about a man who is pulled from the ground and then needs to be rooted. Taking a leap, I am going from Beelzebub to The Beatles. To come back to them. They were no strangers to experimenting with music. And drugs. Although weed did not hinder or help their creative process, it was definitely a part of their world. Not that Bush was following them. I think, for The Beates, it might have been a sign and norm for the time (the 1960s). For Bush, there was this communal and bonding aspect. Though I think it was also to help with nerves. Take the edge of. I have said before how Bush occasionally would be told to leave the weed alone when recording. Almost like taking sweets from a child. Donald Sutherland, who worked with Bush on the Cloudbusting video, definitely had a word with her. Bush started smoking cigarettes as a young child. Many see her as this middle-class girl who was quite spoiled. She was well off. Smoking and weed was not rebellion. She grew up in a very artistic and free household. Though there were rules and boundaries, the Bush household in the 1960s and 1970s was not over-strict. It is interesting that Kite does nod to smoking. Though it also has a story behind it. I think the Beelzebub reference is about The Devil creating anxiety and rumble. This need to rise above him and get rid of that feeling. Kate Bush has said how Kite was her attempt to write a Bob Marley song. Not one of her biggest idols, you can see why Bush was intrigued and struck by his music. Surely, in 1976, she would have known about Rastaman Vibration. Exodus came out in 1977. Huge albums from Bob Marley and the Wailers. Maybe a young Cathy Bush heard 1974’s Natty Dread when she was sixteen.
If there was nothing unusual about white artists in the 1970s attempting Reggae songs, I feel Kate Bush lyrics and her delivery is different to other artists. Dreams of Orgonon talked about Kite. Though it has this Reggae vibe and is quite laid back, it also has Progressive Rock elements. You could write Kite off as this light and filler song. It is far from that. If you look at the documentary I have included below, where Kate Bush and her band/crew are preparing and rehearsing for 1979’s The Tour of Life, you can see her rehearsing Kite. I can only imagine the reaction the song got from the audiences. A number I feel would be stronger and more impactful live than on record:
“Kate Bush makes her television debut in a disused railway depot in Germany. Behind her stands the KT Bush Band, the musicians she chose to play her music, in front of a backdrop of green land and a volcano, apparently the German realization of a Yorkshire moor. Bush begins her idiosyncratic mime-shaped dance and the music follows her in a jumpy, facetious rendition of “Kite.” Bush uses her full body as an instrument, using shakes and poses to fill the stage.
It’s unsurprising “Kite” should be the runway Bush launches her television career on. The track is the B-side to “Wuthering Heights,” and a chirpy enough deep cut. “Kite” responds to “Wuthering Heights,” sharing its A-side’s fascination with stepping out of ordinary human experience; visualizing this process as a skyborne anabasis.
“Kite” is a dance song in a different fashion from “Wuthering Heights”; whereas “Heights” is famous for the dance retroactively applied to it, “Kite” actually depicts a sort of radical bodily movement. “Kite” depicts an Icarus-type character: a person being drawn from the ground and towards the air. Over the course of Kite’s run time, Bush expresses ennui on the ground with quite possibly the silliest opening lyric of all time — “Beezlebub is aching in my belly-o/my feet are heavy and they’re rooted in my wellios” — swoops through the air like “a diamond kite,” and finally gets sick of her flight with “I’ve got no limbs/I’m like a feather on the wind.” Bush puts herself through a odd contrapasso (indeed, directed by a sort of god in the shape of eyeball in the sky) where a desire to ascend quickly becomes a descent into the fear of “shit, how do I get down from here.”
Which is to say that “Kite” is a psychedelic rock song. The track’s metaphor isn’t exactly subtle — indeed the song is constructed around an unspoken pun about being high. Bush has an out-of-body experience she’s been aching for and finds the force drawing her upwards won’t let her down again. A taste of the divine is inherently terrifying.
There’s a taste of prog rock to this — bands Bush enjoyed such as Genesis, Pink Floyd, and King Crimson were similarly enamored with playing surreal melodies and writing about off-beat, ethereal subject matter. “There’s a hole in the sky with a big eyeball” sounds like a missing lyric of “21st Century Schizoid Man.” The chorus inviting the listener to “come up and be a kite/and fly a diamond night” is about as blunt a nod to mid-Seventies prog as one can write. Bush wears her prog influences on her sleeve in the early days, and surprisingly “Kite” is one of the songs which heavily showcases this.
Leave this alone and you get a psychedelically tinged prog rock song about the hubris of transcendence. Nothing to write home about, but perfectly enjoyable fluff. Yet “Kite” moves into curious dissonance by playing itself as eccentric reggae (something acknowledged by Bush herself, who called it “a Bob Marley song.”) On its own merits, this isn’t a idiosyncratic move — every white rock artist in the Seventies was attempting and failing to do reggae songs in a fatigue (a trend perhaps most prominently realized by Eric Clapton’s nauseating rendition of “I Shot the Sheriff.”) But with its moderato tempo and time signature shifts, “Kite” isn’t straight reggae. It utilizes the trappings of the music for its own ends to create conflicting juxtapositions, such as the bass’ cannabis-like rumble under Bush’s acidic vocals. In the end this doesn’t save “Kite” from being silly faux-reggae, but Bush is good at enough at dazzling her listeners to keep the tracks’ seams from showing too much”.
Religion and history were present right through Kate Bush discography. I think Beelzebub. Rather than him being another form of The Devil, Beelzebub is instead “known in demonology as one of the seven deadly demons or seven princes of Hell, Beelzebub representing gluttony and envy. The Dictionnaire Infernal describes Beelzebub as a being capable of flying, known as the "Lord of the Flies", "Lord of the Flyers", or the "Lord of the Flying Demons”. That element of flight and flying. Connecting to kites. Even though we know weed is very much at the heart of the song, I do feel that Kate Bush was thinking deeper. Nodding to some of her favourite Progressive Rock artists. There was always the danger, when you consider the lines and that opening line of Beelzebub being in her belly, it is one of her most parody-worthy songs. She was at the mercy of impressionists and satirists in the 1970s and 1980s. Faith Brow among those who took her off. Bush did find it funny. But for an artist trying to be unique and true to herself, seeing this reflection of occasional mockery and insult, that must have hurt too. You feel like Kite is an open goal for comedians of the times. If you look at the Nationwide documentary, Bush is taking the song seriously. Drilling her band so it sounds right. Kite is not just an album track on The Kick Inside. The cover sees Bush pinned to a kite with an eye behind her. That was a reference to Pinocchio. The scene occurs near the climax of the 1940 film. It takes place in Sequence 10: The Whale's Belly, right when Pinocchio and Jiminy Cricket first go into the ocean to search for Geppetto. You can read more about it here. Kite almost an unofficial title track. Shot by American photographer, Jay Myrdal, it is a striking cover, though Bush is very small in the mix.
IN THIS PHOTO: 1979 Kate Bush performs Kite live on The Tour of Life in 1979. The famous cordless headset microphone she sports was invented by Kate and her sound engineer, Gordon 'Gunji' Patterson
I think the cover that we see for the Japanese release of The Kick Inside, with Bush in a pink leotard, is the correct choice. It should have been on the U.K. cover, as it says so much more and is more representative of her debut album and who she was. I did write a feature about The Kick Inside’s cover shoot. Even so, you cannot a song like Kite. It is still in places and sort of suggests some piss-taking or parody. I love how loose Kate Bush is on the song. Letting her voice fly and zip here and there. You can feel the energy and movement of the song. Bush dropping in Beelzebub makes me think about emotions, a weight in her stomach and a deeper emotion. Though it also compels investigation and further reading. How Beelzebub featured in John Milton’s Paradise Lost (1667), William Golding’s Lord of the Flies (1954), and G.I. Gurdjieff’s esoteric 1950 philosophical text, Beelzebub's Tales to His Grandson. No doubt Bush would have read Lord of the Flies as a child. She was born four years after it was released, but it would have been in here orbit. She name-checked Gurdjieff in The Kick Inside’s Them Heavy People, so no coincidence that this connection takes us to Kite. Her brother, John, was a poet and introduced his sister to poetry and his writings. I feel he or Paddy (her other brother) would have had a copy of Beelzebub's Tales to His Grandson. One of these texts stayed in her mind and she placed it in a song. In The Gospels, Pharisees accuse Jesus of casting out demons by the power of "Beelzebub, the prince of demons" (Matthew 12:24). All introducing to consider. This compelling figure that is essentially at the start of a silly line. Though this is the genius of Kate Bush: dropping in something heady and heavy with levity and whimsy. If critics saw these as carte blanche to attack and belittle, it was and is a strong and wonderful facet of her music. That imagination and use of language. Not always appealing and memorable, I think that Kite has many strengths. It has been a pleasure exploring Hounds of Love’s eponymous demons. Snarling and angry, perhaps less than actual canines, they are spirits that go through the trees. Though they are then embraced. This fear of love and commitment transforms into this bold embrace. A Bob Marley attempt for a song on her 1978 debut album, this historical (as opposed to religious, I guess) figure appears in the opening line. Such a joy to examine two…
TERRIFIC songs.
