Thursday, February 15, 2007

Pop Music

The last time I wrote something about pop music, it was to say how unsatisfying "pure pop" is in an album context. For instance, compare the Buzzcocks singles to their albums. The albums have stretched out songs, instrumentals, different styles--while their singles show only one side of the band (albeit to great success). The same could be said of a lot of great artists: anyone who buys Bob Dylan's "Greatest Hits" is in for some good tunes, but you miss the inspired album tracks like "It's Alright, Ma" and "It Takes a Lot To Laugh..."

This almost could lead to a discussion of "two types of artists": one type capable of writing songs in a variety of formats, and another type that is oriented towards only one thing. So, the Velvet Underground, Wire, Joy Division, The Cure, Fucked Up on one hand, and Black Sabbath, Gang of Four, Motorhead, Pink Floyd, CCR, The Ramones, The Kinks on the other hand.

But that is not an argument I'm really interested in making--since the dichotomy really proves itself: in the division between "variety" and "unity," everything is varied if you look close enough at one level, and everything blends together if you zoom back far enough.

Rather, I would like to point out that everything needn't come down to pop music in the end. This seems to be the logic of the day, when Justin Timberlake is the most universally-beloved artist.

Take the Ramones, for instance. The general take on the Ramones is that they were influenced by Phil Spector pop, the trashy glam-pop of the NY Dolls, and pre-Beatles American pop-rock like the songs they covered ("California Sun," "Do You Wanna Dance?"). And sure, these are their influences. But, to make this point for the millionth time, the most important influence on punk is The Stooges. The Stooges, who are a "pop band" in no one's conception. And I think it is through this lens that the Ramones need to be seen, to debunk the idea that they are merely latter-day, fucked-up versions of Jan and Dean (why this is an appealing vision I don't know, because it takes all the fun out of the Ramones). And in this conception, "Beat on the Brat" looks a bit different. Isn't this the worst pop song ever?

Ok, so let's define pop music. My definition is that pop music is self-interpreting. On another day, I might say, "pre-digested." I don't mean this negatively, nor do I mean to say that it can't be internally interesting, but if you look at the Beatles' hit songs in their later period, it is still apparent that these songs are, for all their interest, not difficult to hum. "Lady Madonna," "Ballad of John and Yoko," "Obla-di-Obla-da," "Hey Jude." (Here I should say that the all-time worst Beatles hit is the earlier "Paperback Writer.")

The correct point to make, in defending pop music, is all the complexity and variety that can go within a pop song and have it still be self-interpreting. The classic example of this is "Good Vibrations" by the Beach Boys, or, in a later moment, "Love Will Tear Us Apart," by Joy Division. The appeal is, "look how much went into this, and you can still dance to it"--a perfect union of artistry and accessibility.

I don't want to walk all over that, but I think that it has warped everyone's conception of music. For one, I would say that the other essential tenet of pop music is that you throw everything at the wall and see what sticks---this being incompatible with the refinement and genius bands expect from themselves. This, I think, is the motive behind the Buzzcocks' longer album tracks--they are working out one impulse, which will then be "channeled" in a more concise form, into endlessly rewarding pop songs--the same way that Gerhard Richter's split artistic personality was mutually reinforcing to its separate tendencies.

Let's say, then, that we need to get over our fascination with Justin Timberlake and "the perfect pop song" and return to an album context (exactly what has been destroyed by 70-minute rap albums and the prominence of mp3s)--which will have the added benefit of moving away from pure style into a revaluation of form. For instance, instead of trying to graft your Beach Boys harmonies onto your neo-folk ramblings, why not try writing a riff or melody someone might actually want to listen to?

*****
Ok, so after I wrote the first part, I saw this review of an 80s indie-pop retrospective:
"A lot of these bands went in for jingle-jangle 60s-styled pop songs, recorded roughly and sung in starry-eyed schoolkid voices. At times it was defiantly unsexy, and defiantly unambitious-- the sound of idealistic student slackers shambling their way through deliberately simple pop." And this reminds me of when I met kids a few years ago who, when asked what music they listened to, simply said "pop," meaning of course, NOT top 40 stuff. What is hip NOW, I think, is to blur the line (as Pitchfork repeatedly attempts) and say that Toby Keith, The Byrds, and whatever band from Brooklyn are all working in the same idiom, *really*. I find this disingenuous and pretentious, but also wrong-headed. I really stick by my example of "Beat on the Brat," and the Ramones' insistence that they ALL loved the Stooges. As if to prove my point, Pitchfork gives a mediocre review to this collection of the music they are always championing, as if even they can see, when you pile a lot of these singles together, it kind of falls apart on the level of interest.

To forget that the reason the Jesus and Mary Chain are so great is for the same reasons that they AREN'T the Byrds is to fuck everything up.

Well, to conclude very haphazardly, here is a wonderful song which would make a terrible pop song: the opening credits of "The Big Gundown," scored by Ennio Morricone and sung by Audrey Nohra.

11 comments:

Anonymous said...

Eesh, since when has Pitchfork "always championed" C86 indiepop stuff? There are maybe 1 or 2 writers who sometimes like twee bands, but most of them sound like they're coming from the American indie rock side.

I don't know that you're reading that review right.

Ben Parker said...

Well, I am not responsible for knowing all of Pitchfork's history and shifting tastes (I would be embarrassed to!), but ok--let's just say, they love Jesus and Mary Chain and "jangly Byrd-style guitar pop" and leave it at that, since that is all that would be necessary for my argument.

What you say is probably true but is a case of not seeing the forest for the trees, in this instance. What is MOST important is the coding of "Byrds style guitar pop" as an eminently-desirable sound, when I would say, hey--it's just another style and not at all a positive descriptor.

Ben Parker said...

Besides, even from just reading that review, you can tell they want to have "always championed C86 indiepop stuff," even if, as you say, they haven't.

So, it is within their aesthetic pose to have done so.

Anonymous said...

Okay, no, you're DEFINITELY not reading right.

It doesn't say jangly Byrds-style pop is a desirable sound. It says the opposite! It says the music "wasn't exactly a revolution." Then it describes the jingle-jangle stuff. Then it says: "BUT there was often something about that spirit that made the stuff spark and shine."

And then it criticizes this collection for being too much about Byrds-y jingle-jangle and not enough about the interesting stuff, "whether on the twee side" (there were lots of strange, interesting twee bands) "or the punk one" (which would include all those Ramones-influenced Scots).

Ben Parker said...

I don't know what language you speak, but "desirable" and "non-revolutionary" are not, as you would have it, "opposites." At all.

I read it as being surprised at the disappointing sonic interest of what *ought* to have been a joyous run through a desirable sound, but instead (I would say predictably) ends up being weirdly (predictably) boring, because it is just that-- a "sound."

But, I am content with still saying that, for this review, "jangly, pure pop" is a desirable term-- WHETHER or NOT it was revolutionary, which is aesthetically irrelevant. Read (or argue) more carefully.

Anonymous said...

Well, I speak English, mostly.

One thing I have noticed about English is that when someone describes something and then says "BUT a lot of it was good," they probably did not mean the preceding stuff as a compliment.

For instance, I might say "This steak was not exactly amazing: it was pretty dry and fatty. But I liked the seasoning a lot."

I guess I will look into this version of English where that statement implies that "dry" and "fatty" are good things.

I will also try to figure out why a critic who's in favor of strummy guitar stuff would say this:

"The big disappointment with this recap is that it doesn't reach out to encompass much in the way of strangeness or fire, whether on the twee side or the punk one: Mostly it just coasts down the center, straight through the middling guitar-strummers who usually convince people indie wasn't that interesting."

Or sound a little defensive saying this:

"[C]all it conservative if you want, but it's no worse an idea than listening to sweet old country songs."

I can't really find a single sentence in there that supports your reading, but it's your blog, so sorry for crashing it!

Ben Parker said...

The "but" is saying, it wasn't SEXY or AMBITIOUS, *but* it had spirit, and it sparkled and shone.

That's like saying, "The Ramones aren't rocket scientists, but they are catchier than velcro."

I think you can imagine this. "She might not be much to look at, but I love her," etc.

Anonymous said...

Umm, yes, exactly.

And then the next paragraph says "the disappointment is that the guy in charge picked a lot of the boring parts, and not the interesting ones."

So yes, that's like saying "The Ramones aren't rocket scientists (i.e., "dumb"), but they're catchier than velcro. Unfortunately, this Ramones compilation picks all the dumb tracks, and not enough of the catchy ones."

Which you're choosing to read as "this person is in favor of dumb Ramones tracks."

See what I mean?

In my reading, the thrust here is that indiepop included lots of stuff that was strange and interesting, and this compilation is disappointing because it concentrates on the predictable part instead. It says that pretty explicitly:

"[T]here was often something about that spirit that made the stuff spark and shine. At its best, it sounds suddenly free. ... The big disappointment with this recap is that it doesn't reach out to encompass much in the way of strangeness or fire ... Mostly it just coasts down the center, straight through the middling guitar-strummers."

Anonymous said...

But sorry, I said I'd quit crashing. So I will.

furtanic said...

For what it's worth: I agree w/ Mr. Anonymous' reading more than yours Ben. Nitush (a declared indie-pop fan) is saying that Bob Stanley picked to many of the same-y jangle bands which was unfortunate because though some of the jangle bands were great the weird C-86 stuff (mostly ron johnson related) was better.

And if anything pithcfork's M.O. is not to reduce everything to pop but to raise up everything good as progressive (in the prog rock sense). They started out w/ a Chicago post-rock bent that has never left them. The reviewer of that comp is relatively new and atypical of their general push.

-Ben

thera said...

slightly off topic, since i don't care how you guys are reading it: let's talk about the cd for a sec. Basically whoever curated it just smooshed together the C86 comp and the rough trade indiepop comp and is passing it off as new. Plus they replaced the only good mighty mighty song with some bullshit. I can't believe I am going to buy this.