Great post, Qvist.
I'd like to step back a little from the issue of Grand Pop Music as a potential instrument for social and political change
I can't really argue with your account of the history of those years. What you've said seems pretty close to the truth. However, my position would probably focus on a couple of things which would integrate the fertile period of the late 70s with the horrors of the 80s ("the sudden menace of Spandau Ballet", as Paul Simpson put it recently) instead of saying one replaced the other. First, even the lonely, "pure" artistic voice can shape larger movements, even when those movements are entirely commercialized. Simon Reynolds did a great job in "Rip It Up And Start Again" of bringing to light how a few new voices with a few new ideas altered the landscape of pop, even if the final version morphed out of control into Thatcher/Reagan-friendly shopping soundtracks. Second, I don't think it's fair to characterize punk and post-punk as having "ushered in" the era of Thatcherism. As we're seeing here in the States at this very moment, intense right-wing politics occur as a reaction to a threat from the left, and you can be sure that the more hysterical the right-wingers are behaving, the more menacing the left must have been to their worldviews. In my opinion, Thatcherism (and Reaganism over here) did not obliterate or roll back the artistic and social gains of punk/post-punk, they simply barged in as a counter-weight. In both the U.S. and U.K., there are two parallel histories in the 1980s, not one. Punk/post-punk provoked a reaction that pushed them further to the margins without destroying them.
(As an aside - can you imagine a figure more tragicomically mired in limbo than Paul Weller during the eighties, desperately trying to couch a radical message in music seemingly designed for shopping malls? In a final act of irony,
Shout To the Top were later to be used in a commercial for exactly shopping malls in post-communist Eastern Europe, with the lyric changed to "Shop 'till you drop" - which must have sounded a lot more appropriate to the music than the original text
).
Tragically hilarious-- and fitting. Weller wasted himself for many years.
And this is what I'd take as the point of departure - not "is it possible to make music that will shake society to its foundations?" but "Is it possible to make music that truly matters, to more than a particularly interested few?". In the extension of that - "Is it still possible to make music that is so good that it makes music seem like one of the most important things in the world?".
Exactly. In my original post I said the same thing. Ultimately politics are secondary to the music. The Smiths and the other bands I loved did seem universal. "Universality" is indeed illusory, as you say, but there was more to it than my subjectivity. Just by the nature of the marketplace music was made by, and for, "gangs" of people (as Johnny put it in '84). If you showed me your record collection, I could probably guess who your friends were and what you did for fun; similarly, if I knew who your friends were and what you did for fun, I could most likely tell you what records you had in your bedroomm.
Today that's not the case. When I spoke of "ambition" I meant ambition within pop music, which includes politics but only within a wider arena of fashion, art, social values, and so on. Whether it was Morrissey wearing a hearing aid on Top of the Pops or Wham! wearing "Choose Life" t-shirts, I think the fundamental basics of the culture fostered a belief in upcoming bands that they could come out with a flashy statement and unite a large section of the populace toward a common goal. Let's be honest, usually that goal was to put cash into the pockets of the musicians. I don't for a second believe these ambitions weren't tainted by greed, stupidity, and folly. The point is that pop's power to unify was taken for granted. Maybe the unity wasn't literally universal, but certainly there were a plurality of tribes each unified by a strong aesthetic and social code. We've lost that. And though talking of society and culture sounds too abstract, I do believe that ultimately the shift is reflected in the music.
Mankind however hardly has. Passion is still pretty much passion, so is love, hatred, alienation, anger, heartbreak, desperation, hope and the plethora of other phenomena that constitute possible points of significance in the reception of any art form, including Pop music.
I disagree with this but don't see any need to blab further about it.
I grew up and had to rely to a large extent on music taped from the radio and perforce mainly from mainstream shows.
But there was still a bottleneck shaped by critical taste or the conditions of the market. You had a playlist on your cassettes but you were still seated in front of your radio, tape deck rolling, along with a few thousand others listening to John Peel or whoever. Similarly the expansion of your record collection relied on reading the music press, listening to radio, going to gigs, and sometimes physically walking to a record shop to browse the aisles (or you got tips from friends who did these things). Your consumption of music wasn't prescribed or monolithic, but it still revolved around the central hub of the music industry. It's grown much more diffuse and compartmentalized now.
Also, I think the very form of MP3 files has changed consumption. Music, already pretty disposable, is much more so now. But again maybe that's outside the purview of the present discussion.
Or from an entirely different angle, take Oasis. Now, we may not consider them a particularly great band, but like it or not - in the mid-nineties they mattered.
Isn't Oasis a pastiche of previous bands?
Oasis was a simulation of a good band, not a good band. I know, I know: spot the difference. They released good material and, yes, for a time they "mattered" in the 1990s. No denying that. It was just indie rock's Indian summer, that's all-- we've gotten more Indian summers since then and we'll have more still. The fact common to all these bands is utter sterility. To me, Oasis made some decent records, but when I think of
true artistry they are not, in my opinion, much different than The Jonas Brothers are now. They appropriated the looks, gestures, noise, and attitudes of previous bands in order to satisfy the demands of the marketplace for "rock and roll" music.
Again, don't misunderstand me: I like some Oasis songs and I wouldn't run screaming from the room if they came on at a party, as I would with the Jonas Brothers. I'm talking solely about the animating creative impulses behind the bands. Noel Gallagher has real talent, sure, but ultimately his shrewdest skill was curating a living museum exhibition in which his brother was merely the most lifelike of rock and roll props. Oasis does not illustrate how empty and vapid the current scene is. Rather, they illustrate how
agonizingly close the current crop of bands is to the great bands of the past. No matter how good they are, something's a little off.
Why, exactly, should something like this be fundamentally so impossible today?
Excellent description of The Smiths.
I don't know if it's "impossible" for such a group to exist today, but I think it's very unlikely. There are many reasons for this, but first and foremost might be the exhaustibility of the form. How much can you do with guitars, bass, and drums in today's world? How many different combinations can you come up with? How many ways can you mix your influences together to make "new" music? The Smiths came along at a time when it sounded fantastically fresh to merge punk, 60s pop, and folk. To sound so fresh today, after The Smiths-- and after the bands influenced by The Smiths-- is much, much harder for any band that still uses traditional instruments as the basis for their sound.
What we've seen is that the "traditional" indie bands burst forth and flare brightly for about an album or two and then vanish into the night. The Strokes, The Killers, Franz Ferdinand, Arctic Monkeys, and so on all more or less fit the bill. My point is not that these bands are bad, necessarily, merely that they can't sustain themselves creatively as older bands once did. They're the pop music equivalents of fruit flies: born in the morning, dead by the evening. Ten years from now we'll be able to scrape together about two dozen absolutely cracking numbers from this decade from all the bands I mentioned-- but we will not have the great bands or the great albums we had in the past.
As I keep saying, I don't know if that's a bad development. The listener of today and tomorrow might be more like Morrissey-- people with highly sophisticated, catholic tastes who can cherry-pick their favorite songs from the entire history of music, popular or not. Each listener forms a gang of one (thanks Bradford!) instead of joining another gang. Perhaps this is healthier and we no longer need pop groups to unify us. Perhaps we do. But here we get back to questions of human nature.