Rock ‘n’ roll is splintered, pushed out by mainstream collector culture.
By Jon Smiley
Rock ‘n’ roll has effectively been phased out of the mainstream. By my estimation the last time a new (to the mainstream audience) rock band dominated the commercial airwaves it was 2009 and “Sex is on Fire” was driving most everyone crazy. As far as I can tell, before the Kings of Leon hit the mainstream airwaves, people praised them as a Southern-rock version of the Strokes. I hadn’t heard a single song, only the buzz that had been generated off their first three albums. Once they hit it big and “Use Somebody” was on the local Cox/Clearchannel pop station four times an hour, most of the indie crowd treated the Kings of Leon like “Happy Days” after the Fonz had jumped the shark. Their indie credibility had been yanked out from underneath them and generally they traded respect for fame.
Does this have to happen? Can a band appeal to the masses while still garnering the respect of the critics?
With the internet it seems that rock has spliced into a thousand small niches while rap has coalesced into one entity. (No more East Coast/West Coast, everyone is a featured artist on one another’s LP. See: Kanye’s dark fantasies, etc.). The marketplace for innovative rock is online through a radio website (like KJHK or KEXP) or through word-of-mouth blogs.
In a way, liking a band before it gets too big has replaced the sense of ownership that you used to get when you purchased a CD at a store. “This is my band, I spent to time and effort to love this band” rather than “this is my band, I spent my hard-earned money to support them.” This produces an aristocracy to the fanbase. I would guess that this system would make someone feel good because they are the most informed, the fastest. This is probably the same logic that makes someone write “FIRST!” as a comment on a YouTube video.
As a casual fan of indie music, I’m very familiar of this mindset. I think it’s a race to the bottom that leaves most parties unsatisfied. But it’s just a part of the scene.
I went and saw a show this weekend of my new pet band, the Love Language (their singles: Lalita, and Heart to Tell). They are the band that I defend in drunken arguments and hope that one day they’ll get the wide audience I think they deserve. When they started out, I was one of a handful of people who saw them at the Jackpot in 2008. I shouted at them to play the only song I was sure was there’s. They were startled that anyone knew who they were, I think. They invited me to get on stage and play tambourine for their encore and then I bought them drinks afterwords and eavesdropped on them complaining about how little money they were making (at the time they had seven members, the next two times I saw them they had four). As a fan it was great to have a personal human interaction with a band that I love; it was my equivalent of playing pickup at the student rec with the KU basketball team in the offseason.
The next time I saw them, they had gotten signed to Merge Records and released a new album with the label. At this concert, they had an audience of approximately 45 people. I yelled requests at them and to my surprise they recognized me, but that was about the extent of our interaction.
This past weekend I saw them for the third time. The club was packed with about 300 people there. I was pushed to the back of the throng. They played all the songs I loved along with a few new promising ones. I didn’t yell to get attention and they didn’t recognize me. At the end of the set they invited some other drunken guy to play tambourine during their encore. The more the bands grow into bigger audiences, the less the music belongs to you.
That way of treating music is flawed; it treats music as a form of currency. I disagree with it, but I also understand it. But nothing can stop me from thinking that I’m glad that a lot of people saw the Love Language this weekend and enjoyed the music. I’m glad that they’re making enough money to support touring and provide each of their members some pocket change. I’m glad that I brought them up in casual conversation and a co-worker knew who the band was. I do worry, though, that if they reach the level of fame that the Kings of Leon attained, they’ll be cannibalized by the same fanbase that nurtured the band up to fame.