fibre de carbone
What with the snow we had on Monday night, Luke’s been out of school all week, going bonkers cooped-up inside and driving Diane nuts. I’ve been at work all week except for a two-hour delay on Tuesday morning, something Diane was very grateful for.
Driving to work that morning was a bit of a different experience, given that the roads were clearer of traffic than they usually are, and there were different programs on the radio. I usually listen to NPR on the way in, just to have something to wake me up and shout at (Marketplace Morning Report is the most liberal show of economic reporting I’ve ever heard). Tuesday morning just before 10 a.m. was time for the BBC’s news hour, and it was near the end of the show, when they cover the cultural news.
That morning the reporter was discussing “the end of rock n’ roll,” her name for the fact that the fewest number (3, I think) of traditional rock songs occupied spots in the British hit charts since the heyday of rock in the late ’70s. Two pundits weighed in, a British editor from NME and an American writer. I didn’t care for the British bloke’s opinions very much, as he prattled on about rock not really being dead, but just being incorporated into today’s pop music, or some such. I’m sorry, but adding a guitar or two to a Katy Perry song doesn’t make it rock any more than adding a banjo to an orchestra makes them play bluegrass. Rock is about the sneer, the rebellion, the anti-establishment attitude. And to that point, the American writer made an astute observation: Rock music was the “social network” of the pre-Internet youth world. It conveyed so much: Not just about sex, but about politics, ideas and values. Artists were still commercial, but albums were held in higher esteem; they were more of a milestone in a rock group’s career than they are now. Now, the convenience of just buying and downloading the songs you like is easier (and cheaper) than having to commit to the whole album, which, as an art form, is suffering the effects of that shift.
The main point of the American writer on the BBC show was that the conversation venue for political issues, ideas and values has moved from rock music to the Internet. Young people use other means to communicate their rebellion, their anti-establishment sentiment. And the only thing that leaves for popular music to convey is sensuality, sex. That jives completely with any cursory scan of the radio dial; I commented to Diane the other day that the theme of 90% of the songs of the radio could be summed up thusly: “Let’s rut like rabbits.” Not to put too fine a point on it, or anything. Hahaha.
It just digusts me, honestly. I know that polite society (of which I consider myself a part) and rock music have had their ins and outs, but the debasement of rock, the stripping away of anything substantial—I’ve railed against it for years, and it just gets worse and worse. There’s no authenticity, no honesty there… Even if I disagree with your ideas, I can appreciate the earnestness with which you deliver them. But now, even though there are many artists and groups out there bravely soldiering on with rich, thoughtful rock, they no longer occupy the focus of the public eye. They used to. Now the radio waves are filled with saccharine, oversexed, barely literate dreck.