3.10.2006
It's too loud, he's too old
Author David Hajdu, whose Positively Fourth Street was an interesting look at the relationships between and among Bob Dylan, Joan Baez and Richard and Mimi Farina, tosses one in from way out in left field with an odd critique of the impact of MySpace on music. The piece, on The New Republic online (requires subscription), starts predictably enough with a look at the site and the way it has exploded as a cultural phenomenon. Hajdu notes that it has 55 million+ members, and that more than 1 million bands and musicians have pages on the site.
From there, however, he goes off the rails. He cites bands like Fall Out Boy and Hawthorne Heights that can trace much of their success to MySpace (he also cites Arctic Monkeys, a band I thought had done well because it allowed UK fans to burn copies of its demos... is anyone Stateside really paying attention?), and says that the site's homogeneous youth culture is allowing bad bands that - gasp! - haven't even toured to become stars. One band, Hollywood Undead, is made up of kids in hockey masks and "gimmicky shrouds" who decided to make some music on their computer one day. Instead of praising the way technology has democratized the music creation and distribution process, Hajdu instead later refers to the band as "a phony band hidden behind funny masks and elaborate concealments" who succeed by "pretending to be what others would like you to be."
That's quite an indictment, or would be if it didn't accurately describe 99 percent of popular culture. What successful musician hasn't pretended to be something they are not? He talks of Bruce Springsteen, who in his early, under the radar days didn't quite sound like "Bruce Springsteen," as if bands that rise to stardom in a heartbeat these days are somehow less pure because they aren't allowed to find their true voice. Perhaps, but the multi-millionaire Springsteen pretended to be a man of the people for two decades before realizing recently that we'd still love him even if he admitted he was rich, and he's but one of many examples of musicians we like to consider real artists who trade as much in artifice as they do in reality.
It's an utterly perplexing argument, and one that takes an odd twist at the end when Hajdu equates bands pretending to be something they're not in order to appeal to potential fans with the kind of pretending creepy old men do to prey on children in chat rooms. The entire piece feels as if it sprung from this fleeting notion, but Hajdu didn't have the sense to drop it once it proved too rickety to support a lengthy essay. As one commenter points out on the TNR site, "Is it really surprising that a site dominated by high school age kids also has mediocre collective taste in music?" At a time when Clear Channel has a stranglehold on what they can hear on the airwaves, it ought to be refreshing to see that they care enough about music to take its creation, promotion and distribution into their own hands. Hajdu's generation once said "the man can't bust our music." It's refreshing to know kids today feel the same way.
From there, however, he goes off the rails. He cites bands like Fall Out Boy and Hawthorne Heights that can trace much of their success to MySpace (he also cites Arctic Monkeys, a band I thought had done well because it allowed UK fans to burn copies of its demos... is anyone Stateside really paying attention?), and says that the site's homogeneous youth culture is allowing bad bands that - gasp! - haven't even toured to become stars. One band, Hollywood Undead, is made up of kids in hockey masks and "gimmicky shrouds" who decided to make some music on their computer one day. Instead of praising the way technology has democratized the music creation and distribution process, Hajdu instead later refers to the band as "a phony band hidden behind funny masks and elaborate concealments" who succeed by "pretending to be what others would like you to be."
That's quite an indictment, or would be if it didn't accurately describe 99 percent of popular culture. What successful musician hasn't pretended to be something they are not? He talks of Bruce Springsteen, who in his early, under the radar days didn't quite sound like "Bruce Springsteen," as if bands that rise to stardom in a heartbeat these days are somehow less pure because they aren't allowed to find their true voice. Perhaps, but the multi-millionaire Springsteen pretended to be a man of the people for two decades before realizing recently that we'd still love him even if he admitted he was rich, and he's but one of many examples of musicians we like to consider real artists who trade as much in artifice as they do in reality.
It's an utterly perplexing argument, and one that takes an odd twist at the end when Hajdu equates bands pretending to be something they're not in order to appeal to potential fans with the kind of pretending creepy old men do to prey on children in chat rooms. The entire piece feels as if it sprung from this fleeting notion, but Hajdu didn't have the sense to drop it once it proved too rickety to support a lengthy essay. As one commenter points out on the TNR site, "Is it really surprising that a site dominated by high school age kids also has mediocre collective taste in music?" At a time when Clear Channel has a stranglehold on what they can hear on the airwaves, it ought to be refreshing to see that they care enough about music to take its creation, promotion and distribution into their own hands. Hajdu's generation once said "the man can't bust our music." It's refreshing to know kids today feel the same way.
