I was down in Washington D.C. the other day when I flipped on the local classic rock station, desperate to hear anything resembling music. After a good five minutes of commercials, the soulless excuse for a DJ put on that good ol' rock & roll classic..."Wake Me Up When September Ends." 18 years have passed since Green Day recorded three inconspicuous EPs, and already someone is regarding them as "classic rock." I tried to put it out of my mind, but when I picked up a copy of Rolling Stone later that day, I found that the latest album from those two creepy old Brits masquerading as The Who had debuted in the Billboard Top 10.
In High Fidelity, Nick Hornby's character Rob refers to a list of the "Top 5 Artists That Must Be Shot Come the Musical Revolution." These are mine; some of them may be yours as well. They have two things in common: they are regarded as "elder statesmen" of rock, and their choice to continue making records is stifling creativity in rock, not to mention robbing up-and-coming bands of the media attention they deserve.
Green Day
Left and right, I hear the chants of spurned teenage punks that go along the lines of "Green Day sold out!" Kinda funny, when you consider that these same people were drooling all over "American Idiot" when it came out. Actually listening to the album is even more of a riot, and I'm not saying this because it's overblown and pathetic. (Though it is.) When subjected to this supposed "sellout" album, I found very little discernable differences between the spiked slackers of Dookie and the red-tied Clash wannabes we all know today. Sometime after sinking into total irrelevance with Warning, Billie Joe must have decided that he cares. Not only that, he wanted his band to be "The Only Band That Matters!" Great!...but it's been done. More accurately, it's been done without lethargic nine-minute suites and ubiquitous singles that rip off of Oasis. (Which begs the question: How desperate do you have to be to rip off of a songwriter who rips off of other songwriters?) Like Tommy, they've crafted a rock opera that happens to be both laborious and incoherent. (As if any other sort of rock opera existed...) Like Combat Rock, they've given their "punk" a glaze of Pro Tools to ensure radio airplay. However, unlike the British punks that Billie Joe admires so much, the radical political ideas of American Idiot are centrist enough to keep potential consumers from being offended. There's no anarchy or calls for rioting here; just be respectfully angry and we'll beat the Republicans, guys! I guess Billie Joe shares a trait with his other hero, Pete Townshend: a willingness to shill for a paycheck.
U2
I don't think I need to tell you that Bono is an unbearable, pompous jerk; it's pretty much common knowledge by now. Nor do I have to tell you that the rest of U2 are too complacent to restrain him; they're probably too busy trying to remember their names. Still, U2 are probably the best example of a group urinating on artistic integrity just to make a couple of bucks.
Most people remember U2 as a bunch of righteous blowhards from the 80s, churning out anthems of restrained outrage and generic spirituality. That's not to say that their output was bad-I recommend War and The Unforgettable Fire-but it was fairly clear by the Rattle and Hum film/album/general screw-up that the lads from Dublin had run out of ideas. So, they kidnapped Brian Eno, went to Berlin, and came back with the two best albums they've ever made. These weren't the dour Irish mystics of The Joshua Tree; the music had some degree of sonic variety. Bono was steering clear of spirituality, preferring to ruminate on private insecurities. The rhythm section dominated Achtung Baby and Zooropa as if they were dance albums. It was fairly awesome!
Then came Pop: the artistic debacle that brought U2's experimentation to a screeching halt. It was an embarassment, the equivalent of going to a family barbecue and forgetting to put on pants. Bono derides the album to this day...for not selling. I guess 3 million copies just isn't enough. So they kidnapped Brian Eno and went to Berlin again. They came back with..."Elevation." "Walk On." "Stuck In A Moment You Can't Get Out Of." Four years later, we're subjected to the likes of "Vertigo" and "All Because Of You", easily the two worst singles the band has ever released. Moreover, Bono-who gave up the righteous crusade to become a politician cutting deals with translucent congressmen-took "One", an emotional ode to personal abandonment, and allowed Mary J. Blige to turn it into a syrupy tribute song. Congratulations, Bono; you gave me a stomach virus.
*Addendum: As I wrote this, U2 released a compilation entitled U218 Singles, which features sixteen of their singles and the required two new songs. One of these is "The Saints Are Coming", the old Scottish punk tune that U2, Green Day, and Rick Rubin turned into a football chant. The other, "Window In The Skies", is so boring that I can't remember a single attribute of the song. The hits selected completely ignore their moody post-punk in the pre-Joshua Tree 1980s, and the artistic and critical successes of the 1990s are made into a footnote. Instead, the 16 songs are the ready-made arena epics that U2 is known for. Six of these songs, mind you, come from their most recent work, thus making it further evident that the band is attempting to re-write its history. An un-initiated listener would be subjected to this and leave with the impression that U2 is just a slight step above Journey.
Pearl Jam
Eddie Vedder can't sing. He never could, and he never will be able to. However, on Pearl Jam's less successful albums, he managed to do things other than grunt incoherently. While the albums themselves were best served as coasters, this was slightly impressive.
Then, Pearl Jam hit us. I'll come right out and say that Ten wasn't that great anyway; the dour songs were not helped by the classic-rock arrangements given to them. It was crass, consumerist rock, nothing more. Pearl Jam recreates the feeling of Ten by presenting more homogenous songs built around generic riffs and nonspecific angst. Some claim that Vedder used the album to take a stance on world politics, but "I have faced it, a life wasted/I'm never going back there again" doesn't sound like it's about the socioeconomic concerns of the Middle East.
Despite what the cult would have you believe, Pearl Jam have essentially made a career of trying to make the same album over and over again. With this eponymous release, they've managed to dupe enough people into thinking that they've finally done it. They are a neo-classic rock act trying to put the old and the traditional ahead of creativity. What's worse, they are arguably the main inspiration for Creed. Try living with that on your soul, Edward.
Red Hot Chili Peppers
The Chili Peppers are pretty much in the same boat as Pearl Jam, except their supposed sonic variety and virtuosity makes liking them seem slightly cooler. Flea is consantly regarded as one of the greatest bassists of all time solely for his wanky fretwork. John Frusciante is worshipped for finding ways to use every effects pedal once in a song. Their stabs at funk make them seem like more than just a boring alt-rock footnote from the 1990s.
None of the above statements are true, of course. For all his technical skill, Flea somehow forgot that a bassist is supposed to create and maintain a rhythm, not act like Steve freaking Vai. As his solo albums proved, John Frusciante's skill with his foot can't hide his sheer inability to write a memorable tune. You'll notice I haven't mentioned Anthony Kieds. This wasn't an oversight; he is simply not worth mentioning. There are only so many times you can find "clever" references to sex and drugs, put them in a song as lyrics, and throw in some references to California for good measure. Their attempts at playing funk come across as horridly unnatural and forced; they sound like the guys in the frathouse who listened to a George Clinton record and decided to form a band. More to the point, they have made the same record over and over again for fifteen years. Nowadays, I find it hard to distinguish old Chili Peppers songs from New Chili Peppers songs.
The Red Hot Chili Peppers are a jam band that's obsessed with George Clinton instead of Bob Marley. They spit in the face of musical advancement on a regular basis by their refusal to change their sound, if only for a minute. Their continued popularity is a black mark upon human existence.
The Who
The oldest out of the five selections, The Who are also the most embarassing. They released some of the best singles of the Sixties, and-despite the fact that half of its songs have been sold to "CSI"-Who's Next remains an infinitely listenable and enjoyable album. However, one need only follow the trajectory of their later career to see how The Who-or Pete Townshend, the only member that matters anymore-have devolved into rock's biggest sellouts. But Kevin, you say, The Rolling Stones have dne more retirement fakeouts than The Who, and they've produced twice as much worthless material. Yes, but everyone knows that The Rolling Stones and their $1000-a-seat tours are nothing more than a punch line for Jay Leno's monologues. The Who, on the other hand, are taken somewhat seriously. As I mentioned earlier, the latest album from The Who (now with only two original members-Townshend and singer Roger Daltrey-Ringo Starr's son on drums, and a gaggle of touring musicians) debuted in the Billboard Top Ten. Despite their ability to sell out overpriced stadium shows, The Stones could not achieve this feat, even if A Bigger Bang was better than it should have been. Endless Wire, on the other hand, consists of boring dad-rock for the first half, while the second half of the album is Townshend's latest public refusal to acknowledge that rock operas just don't work on the mere principle of the thing.
Yet they move 100,000 units of this inconsequential trash-heap in one week. Was it the positive press from Rolling Stone that made the difference? Nah, Rolling Stone gives out four-star reviews more than Planned Parenthood gives out condoms on the street. Was it the dedication of their Baby Boomer audience? Probably not; The Stones and Springsteen couldn't hit those numbers. No, it was the idea of a "Who comeback album" that got asses into the stores. Only, there was no real comeback; between this and the Who's previous official album (1982's It's Hard), there were reunion tours every year or so, a re-working of the abandoned "Lifehouse" opera that eventually became Who's Next, and-of all the disgusting things-a Broadway musical adaptation of Townshend's perennial cash cow, Tommy. All the while, Pete basked in the paychecks. Hell, the man was so concerned with his money that the death of bassist John Entwistle didn't stop the band in their tracks, much like how the band kept going into the 80s after Keith Moon's death.
Like the Stones, The Who are well past their prime and have nothing relevant to say anymore. The only difference is that we make fun of Keith Richards and Mick Jagger for refusing to let go while Townshend slips by unadmonished. Even as a live act, they've diminished in power: I watched footage of the band at this year's Virgin Music Festival, and, after having watched their famed Isle of Wight show almost immediately afterwards, I can say that they sorely miss Keith Moon's presence. Currently, Petey is letting his deserved status as a rock legend slip away in order to make a paycheck. Maybe he should do what he told Rolling Stone he could do and sell all of his songs to "CSI". That way, we won't have to hear from him again.
The 90s...
6 days ago
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