I'm sure many of you, if you're over the age of 40,
have had the "music" argument with your kids, the one that starts
with you complaining about how awful today's popular music is. I personally
believe that today's pop music is mostly wretched and will be forgotten in
10-15 years. It is bland and disposable, auto-tuned, as if written by machines. On the
other hand, I believe music from, roughly, 1963 to 1979 will be studied centuries
from now and will be regarded as a golden age, not unlike the late 18th century.
When was the last time someone wrote a song as ominous
and wonderfully ominous as "Gimmie Shelter,"
as soaringly beautiful as "God Only Knows," or with the exquisite
craft of “Hotel California?” If I'm missing something, please tell me, because
I'd love to download something fresh.
My kids tell me that I simply like the music of my
youth. This is a reasonable argument since every generation romanticizes its
teenage years. But no, I think those of us who were young in the ‘60s and ‘70s
just got lucky. Musical greatness is not linear, and some periods simply stand
out, while others are forgotten.
Quick, name a song from the 1910s. How about one from the ‘30s? How about anything at all from the second half of the 19th century?
Quick, name a song from the 1910s. How about one from the ‘30s? How about anything at all from the second half of the 19th century?
I'm waiting…
A number of factors came together in the ‘60s and ‘70s
that conspired to produce greatness. Technology certainly played a part, with 4 and
8-track recording becoming available for the first time.
A friend of mine who runs a record label says a big part of it was
actually drugs, particularly LSD. It spurred creativity, the argument goes. While there may be
something to this, it's not as if drugs have disappeared. Perhaps LSD use has
waned...
The cultural backdrop of the ‘60s almost certainly played a
role. And while the flower-power generation was grossly narcissistic, and its
societal impact almost entirely negative (in my view), there's no arguing that
all that social experimentation paid off in spades when it came to music.
Landing on the moon after starting from scratch in 1961was no more remarkable
than evolving from "The Twist" to "Sympathy for the Devil"
in the same time frame.
And, of course, there's luck. Perhaps no age was as
rife with musical genius, from Lennon and McCartney to Dylan to Brian Wilson to
Keith Richards to Jimmy Page to Lindsay Buckingham. And more. These brilliant
artists were thrown onto a canvas of experimentation, drugs, and technology, and
incredible art was the result.
Then there's...today. Really, it started to go
downhill in the ‘80s and seems to have accelerated ever since. The art of
writing a hook has been lost, as has any ability to harmonize. I can’t remember
the last time I heard an interesting chord progression (many songs today are played entirely in one key!). Lyrics have reverted
back to treacly ‘50s simplicity or, in the case of rap, vulgar journeys through
rhyming dictionaries. Nothing is implied through suggestion or imagery, it is
simply said. "My Life Would Suck Without You," screeched Kelly
Clarkson in her recent hit. Bob Dylan weeps for you.
Much of it also just sounds the same, which is odd as
there's more technology than ever with which to experiment. Garage Band, which
comes free with any Mac, has exponentially more technology than any studio in which the
Beatles recorded. Any sound you can imagine, you can create. But ironically, the
absence of boundaries has tempered any desire to find and smash through them.
John Lennon once challenged the Beatles’ recording engineer, the great Geoff Emerick, to make his voice sound like the "Dalai Lama shouting from a mountaintop." He did, with only the primitive tools available at the time. (The results can be listened to in the song "Tomorrow Never Knows.”) Today there's probably a button you push that says "Dalai Lama Effect."
The contemporary artist is not challenged, so he does not challenge himself.
John Lennon once challenged the Beatles’ recording engineer, the great Geoff Emerick, to make his voice sound like the "Dalai Lama shouting from a mountaintop." He did, with only the primitive tools available at the time. (The results can be listened to in the song "Tomorrow Never Knows.”) Today there's probably a button you push that says "Dalai Lama Effect."
The contemporary artist is not challenged, so he does not challenge himself.
I've been pondering getting this off my chest for some
time, but there's a reason I'm writing about it now. It turns out there's proof
that I'm right! Actual data. Michael Cembalest, a JP Morgan executive, wrote the following to his son as he left for college this
fall:
I arrived at college in 1980 (the inception of a
decade-long musical graveyard) when many people turned off the radio and
instead listened to classic rock and rhythm & blues; blues produced from 1965 to
1978. I notice you like this music as well. Now you can substantiate to today’s
generation why that era’s music was objectively “better."
The Million Song Dataset is a database of western
popular music produced from 1955 to 2010. As described in Scientific Reports
(affiliated with the publication Scientific American), researchers
developed algorithms to see what has changed over time, focusing on three
variables: timbre, pitch and loudness. Timbre is a proxy for texture and tone
quality, terms which reflect the variety and richness of a given sound. Higher
levels of timbre most often result from diverse instrumentation (more than one
instrument playing the same note). Pitch refers to the tonal structure of a
song: how the chords progress, and the diversity of transitions between chords.
Since the 1960’s, timbral variety has been steadily declining, and chord
transitions have become narrower and more predictable...
(Source:
"Measuring the Evolution of Contemporary Western Popular Music,"
Scientific Reports, Serra et al, May 2012)
The researchers also found that popular music has
gotten a lot louder. The median recorded loudness value of songs by year is
shown in the second chart. One illustrative example: in 2008, Metallica fans
complained that the Guitar Hero version of its recent album sounded better than
it did on CD. As reported in Rolling Stone, the CD version was re-
mastered at too high a decibel level, part of the Loudness Wars affecting popular
music.
Overall, the researchers concluded that there has been
a “progressive homogenization of the musical discourse”, a process which has
resulted in music becoming blander and louder. This might seem like a
reactionary point of view for an adult to write, but the data does seem to back
me up on this. All of that being said, I do like that Method Man-Mary J. Blige
duet.
So there it is.
We are being assaulted with loud, bland music. The scientists say so.
Excuse me, while I turn the dial on
my radio back to Classic Rock…