In 2001, a movie was released entitled High Fidelity, based upon the book of the same title by Nick Hornby. One of the first lines in the movie is a monologue with the watcher that goes as such, “What came first, the music or the misery? People worry about kids playing with guns, or watching violent videos, that some sort of culture of violence will take them over. Nobody worries about kids listening to thousands, literally thousands of songs about heartbreak, rejection, pain, misery and loss. Did I listen to pop music because I was miserable? Or was I miserable because I listened to pop music?” Now, at first glance, this may seem like an asinine assumption and argumentative questions may arise like “Why pop music? Why not the inhibitions and chauvinism of gangsta rap?” But, once you begin to dwell on what most pop music is about—break ups, let-downs, beat-downs, masochistic and sadistic pleasures not even sexual—you begin to realize that this may be a good assumption and a concern.
The enigmatic “they” worry about everything from To Kill a Mockingbird to Scarface, censoring and neutering all thoughts and ideas that are too graphic in any nature for someone to see. But in the music industry, a Parental Advisory is adhered to the label only if the lyrics are rife with swearing and sexuality. But what about pain and heartache and sadness? There is no warning against this, even now when the emo-genre has become another sub-culture of teenagers and 20-somethings steeped in pseudo-depression. Why? Because pop music so outright miserable. Because songs like “Dammit” by Blink 182 are what launch a career. Because wearing your heart on your sleeve is so cool.
But, let’s look at the other side of this for a moment. Let’s say you’re in a band that’s in the undercurrent of bands ripe for picking to be put in the heavy-rotation basket at MTV. During this period, you’re writing songs with hooks and melodies and things that are down-right catchy, happy-go-lucky and beautiful as if life is a bed of roses. Then, during the recording of the new EP, the love of your life, your high school sweetheart who you envisioned putting a ring on her finger, breaks up with you. Better yet, she’s been cheating on you. Do you then continue on this quest of writing songs that are about the whimsical fairy tale that isn’t life? Or do youu. Do you then continue on this quest of writing songs that are about the whimsical fairy tale that isn’t life? Or do you turn to real life experience and write emotional songs that are heart-felt and thus more inspired and tighter? I would most definitely wallow in the misery and milk it until I am in heavy rotation on MTV.
An example of a band that took the aforementioned route but, with their latest album, changed their course, is Green Day. Before American Idiot they were a generic pop-punk band writing about life and break-ups. But, suddenly, they’re politically active with a mascara flare. And we teenagers are eating it up, even though they aren’t complaining or whining. Has this shown something to the media, to the producers? Perhaps it has shown them that lyrics aren’t directly related to fame and that a catchy melody is good. Or it’s shown that being all about a relationship isn’t the only thing that’ll make money.
The music industry, however, is not the only portion of entertainment that deals and revels in misery. Books like Great Gatsby are a consortium of lost hope and death and emotion. The difference between books and music, though, is that books have multiple levels whereas most pop music, except for the few political bands left, has a single level based in a life that really doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. Books, whether canonized or not, often have social issues that are being dealt with, making the plot and the misery merely secondary to the issue being addressed.
The author Charles Bukowski is an alcoholic, lonely, and tired in most of his stories and poems. When you read them, you can’t help from feel bad for him but, at the same time, his stories are amusing because of the contention he has with his state in life. On the flipside, a popular band called My Chemical Romance is “Not Okay,” as one of their songs is titled, with their situation and they can do nothing but wear makeup and push people around in their music video.
Therefore, the answer to the question “Did I listen to pop music because I was miserable? Or was I miserable because I listened to pop music?” is simple: I’m miserable because I listen to pop music based on the evidence that I’ve been listening to it since Kindergarten and now I can’t do anything but write poetry when I’m sad or depressed. At least I don’t cut my arms as recommended by some bands.
No comments:
Post a Comment