Special Run-up-to-the-Super-Bowl Random Ten!


 


1. The Hives - Knock Knock
2. Black Eyed Peas - Communication
3. The Beatles - Honey Pie
4. Zohar - The merciful one
5. Townes Van Zandt - Lost Highway
6. Continuum Percussion Quartet - Ku-Ka-Ilimoku [Christopher Rouse]
7. Richard & Linda Thompson - Strange Affair
8. Michael Moorcock and The Deep Fix - Sixteen Year Old Doom
9. Brian Wilson - Child Is Father of the Man
10. Too Much Joy - Nothing On My Mind

And #11: Destiny's Child - Bills, bills, bills.
Hmmm. Quite a spread. We have genuine Olympians in the Beatles. Then we have contemporary Big Thing pop stars (Black-Eyed Peas and Destiny's Child (now known as Beyoncé et. al.)) Then a trendy hip Middle Thing pop act (The Hives.) Then we have a tremendous talent who flickered back and forth from pop star to Olympian to artist's artist to cult fave and (maybe) back to Olympian (Mr. Wilson). Then a couple of artist's artists/cult faves (Richard & Linda Thompson and Townes Van Zandt) Then a couple who are famous in a rarefied circle or two (The Continuum Percussion Quartet, veddy veddy highly respected in 20th Century serious music; and Michael Moorcock, a towering legend in SF and Fantasy, but pretty well unknown outside it (what do you mean, you've never heard of Elric?) except that he wrote lyrics for Hawkwind. (And who's Hawkwind?)) And to round it all out, a couple of semi-obscurities I happen to like. (Although maybe Zohar is a legend in trance-music circles: I have no idea.)

This is the thing that aggravates me about public or professional intellectuals who call themselves 'popular culture critics': they most often do not even know the shape of what they're criticizing. In a lot of cases, their feeling of belonging to the elite keeps them where they want to be: at arm's length and with nostrils pinched, with the overarching air of "behold the folly of the mob." As a result, they only talk about the absolute center of the spotlight: Madonna, Michael Jackson, Kurt Cobain, Britney Spears, Marilyn Manson, Paris Hilton. Now God knows these are all suitable subjects for inspection and criticism, but if you're going to talk about the part popular music plays in Western (that is, American) culture in the second half of the Twentieth CenturyVan Morrison has a part in it. So does Luther Vandross; so does Yes. So does Fairport Convention. So does Dr. Dre. So does Grand Funk Railroad. So does Frank Zappa.
It's not a plot illuminated by a spotlight, but an entire landscape of vastly varied topography. By talking only about the figures parading in front of the spotlight, you're just talking about the spotlight--and beyond the old star making, star breaking machine, what have you done for me lately life in the fast lane, there's not all that much to tell. If you move away from the spotlight, you have to start talking about things like the music and stuff.
(Oh yeah. Joe Walsh.)
The truth is, while there are people out there who ony listen to whatever's completely popular at the moment, as they only watch the hot TV shows, most people don't . Especially since (as I've blogged about before) popular music became more central to peoples' lives , people will buy the big popular stuff--but they'll also forage on that landscape for other personal favorites. And while lots and lots of people buy Outkast's stuff, these people's collections may contain Outkast and 50 cent--or Outkast and Pantera--or Outkast and The Strokes--or Outkast and Bob Marley--or Outkast and Christina Aguilera.
And that's only binary combinations.
Outside the spotlight, you have all sorts of fame, just as you have all sorts of music. I was convinced that Brian Wilson was a goddamn genius very early on: I got in trouble from my serious rock music dormmates for bringing in The Beach Boys' Sunflower. But seeing him go from popstar to ex-popstar to whatever happened to? to cult favorite to goddamn genius has been more than just gratifying: it's a geodesic that says a great deal about the relationship between America and Its Music. Not to mention America and celebrity, and America and Its Past. And none of these are simple relationships.
Two films: "Be Here to Love Me: A Film About Townes Van Zandt" will move and shake you. I discovered Townes from scrounging his Tomato Records releases out of the cut-out bins and was a fan long before I allowed that country music had any redeeming qualities at all. But his life was a shock to me: while he was performing and cutting records, and writing songs for the country rlite and the ages, he was living in a godawful shithole trailer and drinking appalling amounts. But not, as the script goes, bitter: he was comfortable with it to a shocking extent. The movie is a reminder of just how good he was--and portrays a brand of fame that's truly hard to understand.
And the second one, a whole lot siller, but a strange cartoony ride through pop fame: Grace of my Heart . It's "What If Carole King married Brian Wilson and used his suicide to find inspiration to produce Tapestry?" (Oh yeah, with Brian Wilson played by Matt Dillon. Yow.) It's also full of interesting casting and cameos: Jill Sobule, Chris Isaak, Peter Fonda as a drugged out guru, and Bridget Fonda as (lesbian) Lesley Gore. The central song ," God Give Me Strength," is very good, and was written by Elvis Costello and Burt Bacharach--not very 60's , but nice.
Carole King. Lesley Gore. Elvis Costello. Burt Bachrach. All part of the land beyond the spotlight.

(And once again I end up not writing about Michael Moorcock. Give me time.)


Posted: Saturday - February 03, 2007 at 11:48 AM        

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