perfidy

The Buckethead clan was at Taco Bell the other day, thanks to the lack of power at casa de Buckethead. After several days of blessed silence, we were subjected to some stupendously banal pop music. My dear wife asked, "will they publish anything?" Johno's point that the emphasis is on industry rather than music makes it clear that the answer is "yes."

I've been thinking, in my charmingly non-musical way, about music. Especially the pop music that causes me so much pain. Take sampling, for instance. A recent Janet Jackson song doesn't just sample America's Ventura Highway, it hijacks the entire thing. It's one thing to take a small bit of something, and combine it with other small bits from something else, and create something new. A lot of electronica does this without seeming completely derivative and lacking of originality. But the bits have to be small, I think. Rule of thumb - sampling should not consist of ripping off an entire song.

And the lyrics, dear Jeebus help us. Certainly, popular songs are about sex. They always have been. But as far as I can hear, innuendo is dead. Sex is no longer mentioned obliquely, let alone subtly. It's embarrassing to listen to. Granted the innuendo in the early days of rock, let alone blues, was thin. But at least it was there. Many people complain about the misogyny of rap music, but in a way, this is worse. Love is dead, we now sing about sex. And Brittney Spears' singing style sounds as weird to me as old songs from the twenties, nasal and grating.

The fallen state of modern music might be a sign of the apocalypse, or merely a sign that I am in my mid-thirties. But every time I hear this pabulum, I creep closer and closer to Plato's condemnation of music in the Republic. I remember music being terrible in the 80s. But it was awful in a completely different and better way. It was awkward, and used primitive synth too much. It was mawkish and saccharine. But they were trying, it seemed. Then as now there were gems, and you hoarded them. But the vast sea of mediocrity was merely mediocre, not offensively coarse and unoriginal.

There is good new music, and I listen to it. But you don't hear it on the big stations, and you don't see it at the top of the charts. Perhaps if the forces of light defeat the RIAA and a new era is born, the internet will allow a thousand flowers to bloom. But the bastards and beancounters in alliance are a powerful enemy. And one that, sadly, the musicians must collaborate with.