Среда 24 Июн 2009, 2:06
I don't listen to a lot of classic rock radio, or to much commercial radio of any kind, but when I have tuned in to the local classic rock station, it feels a little like traveling back in time. With a few isolated exceptions (U2, a little Pretenders, Nirvana and Pearl Jam), the classic rock format today is pretty much the same as the classic rock format 20 years ago. It's not a genre, because it has no formal attributes; rather, it is a grouping for commercial purposes, one that has remained curiously stable for a long time.
And what is it, exactly? It's not just old hits, but a specific grouping of some hits and popular album tracks, primarily those that retain a certain masculine swagger–although that's far from the sole criterion. It's insufficient to say merely that classic rock is comprised of songs that make its target audience feel good about their relationship to their adolescence, as that's probably true of any "oldies" format. Like a certain famous conceptual piece at this length, it is a container whose contents are only implied.
What's interesting is that the specific markers of that adolescence (Led Zeppelin, the Stones, The Who, etc.) have retained their validity for so long, and that even within the discographies of individual bands residing in the classic rock sweet spot, there are subcategories of "classic" and "not classic."
For example, you will encounter Lola, but not David Watts; you can be Comfortably Numb but not Fearless; visit with Ziggy Stardust but not The Bewlay Brothers. Much of this, on both sides of the divide, is high-quality, challenging stuff, but the songs that make the cut seem to have been hyper-familiarized and safely absorbed into the larger culture. On a subjective level, it's a safe generalization to say that the songs that make the cut are "songs that I'm tired of," which is more an indictment of how frequently the culture throws them at me than any inherent lack of quality in the songs.
The Top Ten Songs at 4:33
1) Born to Run–Bruce Springsteen
Obvious choice here, which I was somewhat anxious to avoid. But being obtusely contrary just for the sake of seeming original and/or iconoclastic is vain hipsterism. And this is one of the "classic rock" songs that I'm not really tired of, even given my problems with the Springsteen mythos.
"Born to Run" is Bruce’s most fully-realized slice of myth, the one that feels most connected to actual lives. It's so full of barely-contained energy, like the teenagers he’s singing about, whose skulls resonate with the rock-operatic feelings into which the lyrics tap directly. It encapsulates and exalts the time when every action, every thought, seems to lead either to triumphant escape or to death; there is no in-between: “I’ll love you with all the madness in my soul.” From the perspective of age, it seems silly and melodramatic to act that way, but being inside of those feelings is terrifying, exhausting, exhilarating, unforgettable. I wouldn’t want to go back there, but I miss it nonetheless.
2) John Allyn Smith Sails–Okkervil River
Some might say this song glorifies a suicide; it certainly doesn’t condemn it. Contrary to the arguments of the song nannies (a straw man I just made up, but hey!—song nannies!) great art doesn’t always have to give good, safe advice, or any advice at all. In fact, the best art probably resists any such easy reductions. Sung from the perspective of the dead alcoholic poet who has run out of poems and reasons for being, it’s brilliant songwriting and one of the very rare rock lyrics that reads as poetry all by itself on the page.
(If I was really concerned about my hipster cred, this is the song I should have put first.)
3) Universal Corner–X
Smoky, seductive, and almost sounds as if it could fit in a classic rock playlist. In fact, there’s no intrinsic reason why it couldn’t, but X’s brand identity doesn’t fit the implied contents of that container. Check out the Peter Gunn theme in the fade, and John Doe's Morrison-esque timbre as he echoes "LA Woman" when he sings the verb "rises."
4) Adam's Apple–Aerosmith
Toys in the Attic created the center of American hard rock in the 70s, and this is perhaps its best track, built around a somersaulting two-guitar riff, and the delightful way Stephen Tyler screams “she ate it” as if it’s the most shockingly amazing thing that ever happened. Also, as if he’s pre-emptively making fun of himself the way the Pixies made fun of stuff like this with “Rock Music.”
5) Houses in Motion–Talking Heads
Some classic rock stations play the Heads from time to time, but never this song. It violates the classic rock code: too edgy and uncomfortable; funky but not in the service of partying; ultimately too bleak, too black, and too nerdy; and those simultaneous achievements are its triumph.
6) I'm Expanding My Mind–Superdrag
Psychedelic power pop that chucks formulaic pop structure, appending a plangent two-minute guitar melody as extended coda.
7) Stormy High–Black Mountain
The uncomplicated pleasures of hard rock, groove and grind. Perhaps that is what classic rock stations are selling? Uncomplicated pleasure? I acknowledge that Black Mountain is exactly like a band of that era, and would fit in perfectly on a classic rock playlist—but they don’t. Because something unfamiliar, even in the same genre, is complicated? I don’t buy it, I don't get it.
8) Everyday–The Raveonettes
An eerie slow-motion replication of Buddy Holly’s winsome original, half Blade Runner dread, half nursery rhyme.
9) 16 Shells from a Thirty-Ought Six–Tom Waits
So, a man hunts an elusive black crow, symbolizing an unattainable desire. Then when he catches the crow, he keeps it inside his guitar and tortures it. There are so many ways to go with that metaphor, I don't know where to start.
When Tom Waits gets mad at his kids, does he threaten to "whittle into kindlin'"? Because that would be kind of frightening.
10) Runaways–XTC
Beatle disciples XTC offer (thematically) the same song as “She’s Leaving Home,” with no additional insight to add, but it’s a great melody and an inventive arrangement.
Lots to talk about, but here's a little spur: at what point in the future does the classic rock format die or change into something else? When it changes, what does it change into? I am especially interested in hearing from people who listen to a lot of classic rock radio now, since those folks will have a better handle on it than I do.