So this was an article I wrote last school year when I was actually teaching and concerned about what the youth of today listens to.... Anyway, take it or leave it. Just my way of easing onto Jefferton St. with the most minimum amount of effort:
The Best Music You’re Not Listening To
Mr. Thorpe
While it would be only too easy to denounce the saccharin studio polish of a Dashboard Confessional, the inane costuming of a Panic at the Disco!, or the pseudo-angst of a Fall Out Boy/My Chemical Romance/AFI three-headed monster, it’s hardly my place. As a teacher, I think it’s important to not only remain pragmatic but somewhat tuned in to what kids are listening to these days and empathize that The Fray is only as popular as it resonates with today’s youth, for whatever reasons it may. That does little to explain why Lil Jon has become such a fascinating feature aside from silly “grillz” and a top shelf Chappelle parody, but I’ll leave that for another article and another time. After all, it would be terribly pot and kettle for me to look at these bands above and not see a slice of myself a half a lifetime ago before the gray hairs began creeping in.
Shamefully, perhaps, but inescapably, today’s digression of a jaded social studies teacher shows itself by way of the fact that I recently was reminded (in a most painful manner) of the fact that I once danced and sang to a studio invention known as Milli Vanilli. Talk about your artificial sweetener in the truest sense. These guys would make Ashley Simpson appear as talented and real as Aretha Franklin by comparison. And who of my generation can’t pay some manner of homage to the spectacle that was Kiss. Indeed, maybe Panic checked the Stanley/Simmons playbook before adopting their stage persona and look. Eh, check that. Upon further review Panic’s glam strikes me as very Adam Ant instead. Sometimes the sizzle supercedes the steak; popularity and talent have often times been at odds with one another with the former trouncing the latter as a result of an ingenious marketing strategy or simply a ceaseless inundation of a program director’s compelled bombardment dictated by the station’s management.
And what about that “voice of a disgruntled generation” my thirty-something cohorts can attest to? Was it ever as bad as early Megadeath or Metallica would have had you believe? The Damned, Black Flag and even to an extent Nirvana could be accused of cashing in on the idea that all “life sucked,” was a sham, and the thinly-veiled notion of “the system” was keeping us all down (and yes, you do read that as covert dig on System of a Down – for me always the heaviest weight to lift between 3:00 to 4:30 with the football team). To heck with “the Man” and “the Establishment” that goes with it, right my hood headed friends of the hallways during passing time? This rings true from my dusty old Doc Martins circa 1988 to the DC Shoes today. It’ll always be a universal truth that youth will and ought to be served with healthy doses of cynicism and rebellion.
As for those pop darlings The Fray? Well, how could I really criticize? Will it change the world? Probably not. But well placed in the right context (see plotline of hit TV show, Scrubs) does it make perfect sense? Of course it does. I mean really, how can I, with the broadest of brushstrokes, completely pan a cheesy show like The OC when they at least had the good sense to bring Ryan Adams to the mainstream masses?
Yes, for every Mudvayne in your day there was a Slayer of mine. For every Justin Timberlake now there was once a Michael Jackson (who knows what that is today though…). Your Slipknot was our GWAR. Gwen Stefani equals an early version of Madonna. I’ll see your Nelly and raise you a Run DMC. You come back over the top with a bet of Good Charlotte wearing a Red Jumpsuit Apparatus and I’ll push all in putting Van Halen into an Iron Maiden. But this could go on forever and oh yeah….
I was meaning for this to be an idea of a play list of sorts for new sounds to be explored by FHS and the public at large. Just goes to show you kids how important properly titling your work is. I’ve given you the old bait and switch. I extended the intro, but never made good on supporting the implied thesis. So in keeping with the spirit of that on/off consistency of the 51 minutes I see some of you each day – between ramblings on Roosevelt and dissections of Hemingway – Alas, I leave you with homework to figure out the meaning of things out on your own:
Get out there and turn the dial a bit left of center – specifically to 89.7 and a nightly broadcast of World Café. WMSE still has a clue (for that matter 88.9 “Radio Milwaukee” is a brand spanking new format that is interesting, but the jury is still out on that one for now). Change the channel – leave behind your MTV and VH1 instead venturing into the great unknown of the Austin City Limits on PBS. Check the pages of No Depression and Mojo – in turn ditching Rolling Stone and Spin with their gospel of schlock.
Because, honestly, I think the only reason you’re not falling in love with the likes of Cat Power, Sarah Harmer, Alexi Murdoch, Neko Case, Bob Pollard, Josh Rouse, The Magic Numbers, Sloan, Gran Bel Fisher, Kings of Leon, and Fruit Bats is because you’re not privy to the goods. The industry has instead chosen to tease us on occasion (listen closely to a hip VW commercial for example), but not actually push the likes of a Katie Todd Band because an invention like Pussycat Dolls or Christina Aguilera sells at least if not more so for as good as it looks as it might ever sound.
Embrace the quirky. Don’t pass on the visual oddity that might be Arcade Fire or The Flaming Lips because they fail to sport the tattoos. Dialing up The Redwalls keeps a fresh and vibrant sound that harkens back to the simpler times of a pop song about a love gone right or, instead, wrong in a way likened to The Beatles in their heyday.
Or just go right ahead on and glom onto the tragedy that is Evanescence (at least when The Smiths and The Cure made us depressed they could keep a slight sense of humor in the mix) and drown in the mire of mediocrity that the transcendent ones like the Chili Peppers and Bob Dylan thankfully never fell prey to. Look, the point is this – in the thirty plus years I’ve kept an ear glued to the jukebox, radio ain’t really changed a lick. They’ll keep cranking out (and cashing in on) whatever the record companies are trying to pass off as the flavor of the month noise. After all, the original title of Queen’s seminal hit was to be as the drummer’s toddler son had first spoken it, “Radio Ca-Ca” (caca being Spanish and Dutch for, well, I think you get the idea here). Ah, from the mouths of babes, eh? And if they can see the simple truths of what’s wrong with today’s churned out “caca” why, pre tell, can’t we? Keep exploring what is out there, but not served up on the daily platter by a snotty DJ that thinks he’s far cleverer than he really is.
If you need any further counseling on this matter stop by room (233) anytime. I’ll probably be cranking something on my iPod that you’ve never heard of but might actually like. Long live Heathrow, Fun(d) Short, and Trolley and in the words of Kevn Kinney, “God bless the Ramones.” At least upon this sentiment most of us can agree and radio can’t ruin that.
1 comment:
It is a sad truth that the 00's will most likely be remembered as the decade that musically stood for very little innovation... yeah JT and Gwen are knock-offs of Michael and Madonna, but at least the originals were original... unfortunately even our indie heroes are knock-offs of the past... and seriously, is there any band out there today who can't cite The Beatles as an influence? But you're right... take a closer look the Jack Whites and the Clap Your Hands Say Yeahs, and you'll see more than re-hashed Led Zeppelins and Talking Heads. Take a closer look at the John Mayers or the Kanye Wests and you'll see cheese-dicks cashing in on mediocrity.
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