The History of Rock Music: 2000-Genres and musicians of the 2000s(Versione italiana) History of Rock Music | 1955-66 | 1966-69 | 1970-76 | 1976-89 | The 1990s | 2000 | Alpha index Musicians of 1955-66 | 1967-69 | 1970-76 | 1977-89 | 1990s in the US | 1990s outside the US | 2000s Back to the main Music page Inquire about purchasing the book (Copyright © 2002 Piero Scaruffi) Table of ContentsPopular music for a new millenniumPopular music at the turn of the millennium was characterized by the confluence of two revolutionary trends. The first one was world music. The 1990s had been the decade of world music, when western musicians pillaged the rhythms, melodies and timbres of other ethnic cultures. In reality, western musicians had only scratched the surface of the vast repertoire of sounds created over the centuries by the rest of the world. The exploration and integration had just begun. The second trend was electronic/digital music. New instruments had always determined musical revolutions, because, tautologically, they allowed for new forms of music. The electronic/digital music was bound to have an even bigger impact because the new forms of music that it enabled were virtually infinite. It also released the musician from the obligations of finding a "band" and a "producer" before being able to deliver her music to the audience.Yet another definition of Rock MusicRock'n'roll may (may) have been a well-defined genre, but starting with Buddy Holly the term "rock music" became fuzzier and fuzzier. The Beach Boys played surf music, and the Beatles' music was Mersey-beat, a variant of pop music. Dylan was a folksinger. Somehow they all got lumped into "rock music". The truth is that there was no definition of rock music to start with. In the following decades there was less and less of an agreement on what constituted rock music, as its purveyors swung wildly from jazz to world-music. By the end of the century, rock music included artists who played mainly electronic and digital instruments.The problem is that "rock music" was never a definition of the music, but a definition of the audience. Rock music was music for young white rebels. As those young rebels grew up, it lost its "young-only" quality. As times changed and people accepted the Establishment (maybe because they had fewer reasons to attack it), the "rebellious" quality was reduced to a mere search for originality. Thus rock music evolved into music for white originals. The music itself changed dramatically, but the audience that rock music had created basically continued to exist, mutatis mutandis, across generations. Thus an identity could be find in the audience, not in the stylistic attributes of the music. The media were largely responsible for determining what that audience listened to, and therefore what rock music was. The media's defining power was already evident in the 1960s. Hendrix happened to be classified as a rock musician mainly because his records were reviewed in rock magazines and therefore sold to a rock audience. He might as well have been classified as a blues musician, or even a jazz musician: had his records been reviewed mainly by blues magazines, his audience would have been the blues audience, and therefore he would have been part of the history of blues music, not rock music. Ultimately, the reason some musicians were considered "rock" is that rock critics and rock historians (such as me) wrote about them. The only consistent definition of rock music is, in a sense, that rock music is what i am writing about. The only viable definition is a "use-based" definition: rock music is the set of all musicians that the rock community writes about. Thus Klaus Schulze (an electronic musician) makes rock music, but an electronic musician raised in the classical community does not make rock music, even if their styles are very similar: the difference between the two is that the rock press writes at length about Schulze. It is not the listener who defines what is rock music, it is the reader. The Age of MediocrityThe boom of independent music at the turn of the millennium had changed the dynamics of the music industry. At about the same time, the CD (cheap to manufacture) replaced the vinyl album (expensive to manufacture). Shortly thereafter, the Internet allowed musicians to directly distribute their music, thus bypassing the selection of the old-fashioned "record label". Unfortunately, the combined effect of these phenomena resulted in a boom of mediocrity. Among independent/avantgarde musicians, it became commonplace to release just about anything they recorded or just thought of recording. Needless to say, only a few minutes of the hours of recording that they released were truly indispensable. Among mainstream musicians, it became commonplace to release an album that contained only one or two songs worthy of being released. The rest was filler, but was filler that increased the price of the release, i.e. the profits of the label and of the artist. Both sides shamelessly took advantage of technology that allowed to print and distributed albums very easily. The cost of printing compact discs kept going down, and the Internet allowed to bypass the traditional, cumbersome marketing and distribution processes. The net result was a flood of poor-quality recordings. The music press soon revealed itself to be part of the problem, not of the solution. Instead of helping screen and select the few outstanding recordings, countless magazines, fanzines and webzines promoted just about every recording as a masterpiece, no matter how trivial, derivative and amateurish it was. Basically, anyone could make a CD and count on at least ten critics writing a good review of it; which was enough to sell enough copies to break even. The free marketing provided by the music press increased the motivation of musicians to release as much as possible. It was one of the few infallible business plans of the age. The music press was in turn rewarded with free promo CDs: Darwinian competition forced critics to compete for access to promos (no reviews, no advertisers). Thus the musician (not the music critic) held the reins of power and could "blackmail" the music critic into writing positive reviews. The whole scene was the ultimate in capitalism and consumerism. The idealism of the hippie age and of the punk age had been buried for good.
Mediocre artists were soon releasing their eight or 12th album, with
worldwide distribution. But then the very meaning of music-making had changed.
More and more artists came to view music-making as simply an endless refinement
for one simple idea. De facto, their music was wallpaper. Their first album
introduced a mood, a tone, a style, and usually did so without having enough
experience, skills or simply help from the producer. The following albums
refined that very same trademark sound. The songs were mostly faceless.
Each album was simply a repeat of the previous one with slightly different
melodies, lyrics and arrangements. The listener could purchase any of their
albums and find the same product, except that more recent "releases" of that
product were likely to be more refined. The motivation to innovate became
inversely proportional to the low cost of making albums.
On the other hand, it was unfair to compare the quality of the "albums" released during the vinyl era (when making and distributing an album was an expensive process) with the quality of the "albums" released during the CD era released during the vinyl era (when making and distributing an album was a cheap process). No wonder that the average quality of albums in the 1960s was so much higher than in the late 1990s: in the 1960s record labels could not afford to release an artist's album until it contained the best music that the artist could produce. The "album" of the 1990s, instead, was merely a snapshot of the artist at the time it s/he made that album. Ultimately, the "album" was rapidly becoming an obsolete concept. The 1990s saw the apex and the downfall of the music industry. In 1979 Sony and Philips had invented the compact disc (CD), a digital storage for music, and the same year Sony had launched the "Walkman" portable stereo. In 1981 MTV debuted on cable tv. During the 1980s these innovations spread and redesigned the way music was marketed and sold. As the new paradigm took hold, the music industry seemed to enjoy its best time ever. In 1996 Mariah Carey's One Sweet Day topped the U.S. charts for an unprecedented 16 weeks, breaking all the Presley and Beatles records. In 1997 Elton John's Candle in the Wind became the best-selling song of all times, passing Bing Crosby's White Christmas. In 1999 'N Sync set the new record of sales in the first week of a new release (2.4 million copies)
In 1999 the music world was ruled by five majors:
The USA accounted for 37% of world sales, Japan for 16.7%, Britain for 7.6%, Germany for 7.4%, France for 5.2%, Canada for 2.3%, Australia for 1.7%, Brazil for 1.6%, Holland for 1.5%, Italy for 1.4%. Basically, the compact disc had helped the music industry to multiply its revenues. But the record companies missed the real "enemy". In 1999 Shawn Fanning founded the Napster on-line music service that allowed anyone with a computer and a modem to share music files with others over the Internet. They could be played on the PC itself or on the portable MP3 devices (that had been introduced in 1998). Millions of Internet users did not need to pay outrageous prices for their favorite music: in fact, they didn't need to pay anything. Even after the "file sharing" phenomenon was reined in by a series of lawsuits, life was much improved for consumers: Apple introduces the on-line music service "iTunes", which legally sold 25 million songs just the first year. For a long time record labels had ripped off the consumer by forcing the consumer to purchase CDs, regardless of how many songs of that CD a consumer wanted to hear. A completely new dynamic was created by iTunes: consumers were finally allowed to purchase just the song they desired. In 2001 sales for the record industry slipped 5% (their first decline in ages), a fact that was widely blamed on the on-line sharing services. The same year, Napster was found guilty of breaching copyright law and forced to suspend its service, but others took its place. In 2000 French media giant Vivendi purchased Seagram: Warner remained the only USA "major", as Universal had become French, Sony was Japanese, EMI was British, and BMG was German. Clearly, the USA was becoming less and less interested in the business of selling CDs.
The downfall of the record industry was long overdue and welcomed by just
about everybody. But it was not the only anachronism still in place.
As consumers became even more song-oriented, it became even more important
to pinpoint a song heard on the radio. Alas, disc-jockeys continued the
old habit of not announcing the title of a song and the name of the musician.
Consumers remained powerless to actually know what song they just listened to.
In the 2000s it remained easier to read a review of an album that one had
never heard than to discover the title of a song just heard on the radio.
Millions of potential sales were still hindered by the chronic stupidity of
disc-jockeys worldwide, probably in cahoots with record labels that wanted
consumers to buy CDs based on the marketing campaign and not on the basis of
what the songs actually sounded like.
No matter how much the magazines hailed the new album by this or that "next big thing" or "alternative artist" (obviously convinced of having a unique voice, a unique message and a unique set of refrains never heard before in the history of music), there was something terribly obsolete and (ultimately) tedious about listening to yet another batch of three-minute songs. The magazines hailed them as masterpieces, one after the other, but over a decade the same magazines would remember only two or three of the songs contained in all the "masterpieces" of an artist. This huge library of more than one million songs was fundamentally a junkyard. These boatloads of new songs were moving straight from the store to the junkyard after a brief stop in the CD player of a hapless consumer. Something was fundamentally wrong about an art whose main effect was to create the biggest garbage dump of all times. Last but not least, the lyrics of a three-minute song are neither William Shakespeare verses nor Henry James novels, despite what most songwriters and most of their reviewers may think. Listening to a new three-minute song invariably meant listening to yet another bad example of storytelling or bad example of poetry oversold by reviewers as meaningful, poignant, touching, thrilling, whatever lyrics. Bottom line: more junk for the junkyard.
This was the mother of all crises facing rock music at the beginning of the
21st century.
If one does not count the Jimi Hendrix Experience and Prince and the Revolution
(neither of which was truly a band, as their titles imply), rock music had to
wait until 1994 for a white band fronted by a black vocalist,
Hootie & The Blowfish, to attain mainstream success.
For all its widely advertised rebelliousness, unconformity and liberal
lifestyles, rock music remained the most racially segregated art/industry of all.
Each decade in the history of rock music (the ultimate international koine)
was marked by an international icon (a koine within the koine).
Bottom line: the new century continued a trend towards disposing of the "hero",
a trend that probably started with the end of the Cold War.
For the first three decades rock music evolved in a rather turbulent manner. Every ten years or so a major socio-musical revolution caused a complete realignment of its aesthetic paradigm and induced a similar change in habits and values of young western people. Those revolutions work as generational dividing lines. The first one took place in 1955, when Chuck Berry and the other black rockers introduced a paradigm of rebellion to the American lifestyle and a paradigm of bodily music (something similar took place in rhythm'n'blues music at about the same time). A second dividing line was represented by 1966, when musicians such as Pink Floyd, Jefferson Airplane and Frank Zappa introduced a much more complex view of rock music. That led to the "psychedelic" and "progressive" sounds of the late 1960s and early 1970s. This time the music was openly political (not just rebellious) or spiritual (not just anti-conformist). It was therefore a music for the mind, not the body, and that was, in retrospective, its major innovation: rock music became a more conceptual and more adult form of art than it had been in the 1950s and early 1960s. (Something similar took place in soul music). The third obvious dividing line is 1976, the "new wave", when musicians such as Pere Ubu, the Residents, Suicide, the Pop Group and Throbbing Gristle reinvented rock music as a rather depressing form of music, a music inspired by the violent and nihilistic "punk" aesthetic. It was a music of anarchy instead of order, and it marked a return to the body, away from the mind. (A parallel trend could be detected in funk/disco music and in hip-hop). The fourth dividing line was a bit less obvious, as the 1980s witnessed an unprecedented multiplication of styles and a proliferation of musicians, but 1987 can be conveniently used as the year in which independent/alternative rock music took a different shape: the Pixies, Fugazi, Royal Trux, Guns N'Roses, My Bloody Valentine, Godflesh, Jane's Addiction (as well as Public Enemy in hip-hop) continued the "bodily" regression and largely returned to a simpler form of rock music. The key difference was the "emotional" impact, which eventually led to grunge and emo-core. The fifth revolution came with the mass adoption of electronic and especially digital devices. If electronic keyboards had simply expanded the spectrum of sounds, digital devices allowed musicians to conceive of new ways of organizing those sounds. Digital music had an extra degree of freedom. This revolution was prepared by the likes of Autechre, Oval and Pansonic, but came into its own in 1999/2000 with the generation of Four Tet, Solex, DJ Logic, the Books, the Animal Collective, etc. And something similar happened in black music with "digital" producers and soundsculptors such as Dalek. Each age was not so much a negation of the previous ages as a re-interpretation of the styles of previous ages. Thus the many "revivals" that took place in each decade. The watershed years are not difficult to recognize: they are epitomized by a general attitude to innovate as opposed to emulate. Trivially, one could say that at some point people (mainly kids) start behaving in a different way, and it comes natural to them. Later, people/kids will behave the way they are "supposed" to behave. It is the difference between just doing something and doing what one presumes s/he is supposed to do. Hippies did not take pictures of themselves: they were just what they felt like being (the media labeled it "hippy"). But kids who traveled to San Francisco ten years later would take pictures of themselves dressed up like hippies. There are a few years when behavior changes driven by an invisible social force. And then a longer period in which it becomes fashionable to behave the new way. The transition from one age to the next age was often accompanied by the advent of a new instrument. First came the electric guitar, then the keyboards, then electronic instruments, then a return to the electric guitar, then the laptop. Each age absorbed elements from other styles of music, but usually one prevailed in each age (as an influence). Thus rhythm'n'blues was the main influence on early rock music, then jazz took over in the second half of the 1960s, then the avantgarde inspired the new wave, classic rock inspired indie-rock, and the soundsculptors inspired the digital era. And each age had a movement of reaction to this trend (Presley and the Beatles at the beginning, glam-pop in the 1960s, synth-pop during the new wave, pop-metal during the 1990s, and probably some form of digital-pop in the digital era). But, mostly, each age challenged the dogmas of the previous one. So much so that very few "fans" migrated from one generation to the next one, each generation remaining convinced that only mediocre imitation or noise was being produced by the following one. The mediocre imitations were indeed such (musicians who kept playing the same old music). But the "noise" was the new exciting music that only some in the new generation were capable of identifying with. Long-term, that "noise" was what mattered.
That "noise" was the history of rock music.
The loser was the punk generation. That momentum had clearly drained away.
What was left of punk aesthetic was the sloppiness not the fury.
Both singer-songwriters, one-man bands, regular bands and avantgarde
combos often displayed a preference for a casual, careless attitude
in delivering music (even though sometimes it had been painstakingly
composed). That was punk's true legacy: another nail in the coffin of
the Western musical tradition of aiming for the perfect combination of sounds.
Preface
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