I learned most of the world’s musical preferences from the bus ride home.
Back in middle school, when I blasted The Sex Pistols from my headphones, I got dirty looks from the kids at Racine Lutheran High School. Not because the “I am an anarchist/ I am an antichrist” line shocked their Christian sensibilities — Jesus left the room the second the bell rang — but because, as one kid said: “Those guys sound like shit.”
Sure, but that was the point, I tried to explain. I tried to get the message and context across in that half-understanding, naive way that kids do.
But it wasn’t just limited to abrasive punk. In high school I reveled in the multi-angled concept album that was “OK Computer.” When I had a sophomore in a leather jacket listen to “Subterranean Homesick Alien,” his response was “Sounds like a mix between Korn and Pink Floyd.” When I asked about the lyrics, it was a shrug and the line I’ve heard repeated by even my biggest music enthusiast friends: “I don’t really listen to the lyrics.”
One of the biggest flaws in popular music today — whether actual chart toppers or even artists with more creative license — is that the message put forth doesn’t matter to the listener.
The Eisenhower-induced prosperity and boredom of the ’50s led the youth of America to embrace rock ‘n’ roll. Now while most of the songs spoke about young love (“Peggy Sue”) and an obsession with American automobiles (“Maybelline, “Fun, Fun Fun”), the relative prosperity allowed expressions of lust and love to come through in seemingly nonsensical, but self-censored songs like “Tutti Frutti” and suggestive works like “Mess Around.”
The ’60s may have pushed the boundaries beyond the non-acid dropping audience, but even Grace Slick could encapsulate the experience in “Go Ask Alice.” Most important, of course, were the songs of protest (“Ohio” immediately comes to mind), the poetic and often philosophical explorations of the time by Bob Dylan and the satirical indictment of rising commercialization by The Who Sell Out.
We get a bit more schizophrenic in the ’70s, but so was the time. “The Blank Generation” described how the punks reacted to the strife of the times by writing it off, whereas disco enjoyed a fair amount of calls to “Shake Your Booty.” Not exactly the most eloquent expression, but it worked. The ’80s watered it down a bit, but even the New Agers got their point across. After all, Tears for Fears may have been catchy, but “Shout!” was more concerned with nuclear annihilation than topping the charts. And after all, with all those benefit concerts and U2 making their worldview known, there was still a conscience to the music.
Not so much today. Somehow Jadakiss receives praise as the next Bob Dylan by Rolling Stone, and nearly every chart topper is devoid of any lyrical significance. The top two songs on the Billboard 100 are by T.I., including “Whatever You Like” with the line “Late night sex so wet, so tight.” While the top of the charts isn’t exactly the place to look for introspection, the fact that empty-headed — and surprisingly mundane — descriptions of sex have found success betrays a listener preference for rhythm over substance.
And that’s why I’m not blaming this one on the music industry. I truly believe that the public — even the musically inclined — has thrown lyrics to the curb in favor of “hot beats” and “killer riffs.”
We live in an age where lyrics are made for AIM profiles. The only time we cite lyrics is when we have to sum up our current state in a relatable, custom-made statement. And even then they get it wrong. I once had a friend cite Thom Yorke’s “Atoms for Peace” to praise her “So many allies” when the lyric was actually “So many lies.” She subsequently changed the words and sunk into depression.
And that’s the problem. Somewhere in between the ’80s and ’90s, Americans stopped caring about what artists had to say and just appropriated their work as a supplement to their lives. While this has always counted as a significant chunk of the music buying public, it has reached endemic proportions considering the political circumstances of the time. We stand at the brink of a new presidency and a highly maligned Bush presidency, and the people we can find to sum up the moment are Will.i.Am and Neil Young (who helped define an era 40 years ago)?
One could certainly chalk it up to those artists who defined the ’90s — perhaps Smashing Pumpkins and the barrage of alternative shrug-minded lyricists painted too bleak of a world-view for the rest of us.
However, the better bet is that Americans didn’t really have anything to sum up the ’90s and are still trying to get a hold on the ’00s, for that matter. Sept. 11 sent artists into either mourning or rebellion, but Americans weren’t comfortable purchasing singles with either sentiment.
But they’ll come around. If the British could rebound from Duran Duran and send “Pulp” to the top of the charts, the Americans can eventually find room for soul-searching — it just might take a new world order first.
Jason Smathers ([email protected]) is a senior majoring in history and journalism.
