The Lack of Urgency in Today's Music

In no way am I a music expert. I can't play it, I haven't specifically studied it, I don't have a degree in music, or journalism; I don't even know any musicians. But it seems to me that there is a "situation" with music today. I don't want to call it a problem because in order for it to be a problem people need to see it that way. And as far as I can tell most people don't see a whole lot wrong with it. Bob Dylan said recently that music today sounds "atrocious." I feel comfortable calling Dylan an expert on music. But from what I gathered he was referring to the recordings, not the actual music.

The actual music today, and by today I mean most music since the seventies, is flat. What happened? I don't know. I'm not a music historian either. I'm sure it was something; there is probably a great explanation for why each decade does what it does, a reflection of the society as a whole, what goes on politically, socially, and so on. I was just listening to the Jim Rome radio show and heard an interview with Audioslave guitarist Tom Morello. He was recently arrested for protesting the war in Iraq. He is apparently Harvard educated and very political; I might look into his music. Maybe there is depth there. There are surely more like him. But before it was prevalent. In the sixties, everyone was mad and had something to say. The music reflected that. In the seventies, people were more "mellow," but they were passionate about keeping things that way; they had a purpose. The music reflected that. in general, I don't sense much urgency with today's music. I'm not sure what our music reflects.

Maybe we don't have a purpose or reason. If we do, what is it? I couldn't tell you. The mediocrity and often downright worthlessness of music today is not only a reflection of the artists who make it but rather of everyone, those who the music is made for, those who buy it, listen to it, follow it. If we are satisfied listening to mediocre, soulless music, then there's no reason for musicians to strive for more. Maybe the same element, whatever it is that has resulted in bands doing less significant work, is also an element that exists in each and every one of us. What is it? I'm not sure.

Even Dylan's music isn't what it was. Time out of Mind is a great album. It really is. "Not Dark Yet" is a wonderful song. But it doesn't have the energy, the force, the undying reason, the life or death feel to it, the anything is possible, the bite, the bitterness and hope of his earlier stuff. That's taking nothing away from the album or song; it would be nearly impossible to match his albums of the sixties and seventies. But why? Because he is old now? No. Because he is less intelligent? No. Because he is less passionate? Maybe. But what is there to be passionate about? Back then there were movements, Beats, protestors, activists, the Golden Age of film. Hemingway was still alive, albeit barely. Dylan and Tom Waits were young, Dylan could hitchhike, be a troubadour; Waits worked as a bus boy and bummed around Hollywood. Things were happening. You could still ride boxcars. People went to jail because it meant something; they stood up for things. Tom Morello and Cindy Sheehan have gone to jail for something. Greg Anderson, Barry Bonds' personal trainer, went to jail because he believes in something; the journalists who wrote the book about Bonds and the BALCO case clearly believe in their work. There are plenty of others who fight for and against things, the war, the rainforest, etc. But it doesn't seem to be as prevalent and urgent. There isn't that "spirit" in the air. Why? Have we lost hope? Are we lazy? Is it actually no different? I don't know. I wasn't there; I cant say exactly.

Hunter S. Thompson is dead. There aren't any gonzo journalists that I know of working today. You can't get away with most of the stuff he did; the times have a-changed. Lester Bangs is dead; there is no one like that anymore, that I know of, who really critiques the music , who cares singularly about it, who cares as much as the people making it. No, maybe that's not true. Maybe today's journalists care as much as the people making it, it's just not that much. I don't know; I don't like to think that's true. Maybe there's nothing to get very excited about. Maybe I just don't hear enough music. Maybe I am completely off base. I'm willing to accept that. But if I'm wrong, where should I be looking? What am I missing? Because I want to see it, I want to hear it, and I want to go there.

The point is that I've wanted to write an article for a long time, something that brings back old music, makes it relevant again, the music that started it all. People seem to have forgotten it, along with old books and art and the spirit that it took to make it. Not that change and progress is a bad thing, but it is when you completely forget about the old stuff. It is when you forget about tradition, meaning and purpose. Dylan recreated music in many ways. But he knows exactly where it came from. He was obsessed with blues and folk music. He carried the American Anthology of Folk Music all over the place, back when he was a vagabond. Tom Waits used to play Ray Charles and Charlie Rich on jukeboxes on Hollywood and Vine. He knows them and the ones who inspired them, and probably the ones who inspired the ones who inspired them.

I was at a show the other night, in an underground blues bar, and there was a band, guys in their late twenties or early thirties. They played a lot of rock but also some old country and blues stuff. After the show I threw a few names at them, like Jim Kweskin, Dave Van Ronk, and Leroy Carr. I just wanted to know if they knew who they were. They didn't. I'm not saying you have to know every person who ever picked up a guitar or sang a blues note, but at least have an idea. I have been asking musicians, after shows, people I meet at the bar, etc questions just like that, a different three names each time, and they rarely if ever know them. Am I trying to make myself seem important? Possibly. But really, I want to know because it "interests" me. I don't want to say that it bothers me because I feel like it's their loss not mine. Still, I wonder if the reason music today doesn't have as much depth is because people, musicians and audiences, don't have any musical depth. There's no digging, there's no tracing back roots, there's no passion for knowing, for learning, for realizing. Much of the beauty of old songs, besides the craftsmanship and sense of purpose, is that is speaks of a different time. It's history, and it makes you appreciate then, now, and all in between a lot more.

So what's the point? Am I trying to change the world? Perhaps. Or perhaps I just want to call attention to forgotten names and artists. Perhaps I'd like to see music stores carry more of the old stuff, because right now, there's no reason for them to. It isn't purchased. Pretty soon they'll stop producing albums made before the sixties. Many of the best albums of all time are already out of print, only available on scratched and dusty vinyl.

I probably don't give "new" music enough credit; maybe I don't recognize the value in it. I'm willing to accept that possibility. I've had friends, people who claim to know music, who play in bands, who love it, try and show me "new" music. There's Jimmy Eats World. "This is the best band making music today," one guy said. I listened to it; it seemed very basic to me, very "and…"? It left me needing more. There's Nickel Creek. "You'll love it, it's just like the old stuff," another guy said. Not exactly. They have a nice sound, they really do, I like it, but the best song on the album that I listened to was a Bob Dylan cover. Is that because I'm a Dylan fan? Maybe. But I didn't hear anything that really spoke. It could be that's not the purpose, that they like to make music that's nice to listen to, that makes you feel good, that relaxes you and so everyone's happy, like Dave Matthews Band. But to me, that's not enough. Not for all the musicians. All music can't be Justin Timberlake, just here to make thirteen-year-olds shout and twenty-year-olds dance as they do their hair and make-up. Somewhere there has to be more, because that's what made music great, that MORE.

Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds are amazing. So is Lucinda Williams. Theresa Anderrson is great. The North Mississippi All-Stars know where music comes from; they learned from Jim Dickinson. Dickinson, along with Ry Cooder, Alex Chilton and others, learned from real Memphis bluesman. They adapted music their way, created a new sound, back when Elvis was just getting started, but they did that by learning the roots, what music is for, why it is, and how to make it more. Greyson Capps is up and coming. He did a movie soundtrack, and it was very, very good, even sounds like Tom Waits, but is he well known? No. Will he be? It's doubtful. Why? Because people don't seem to want that; there's no demand for gritty music that builds on tradition and captures the essences of hard work and history, of pain and suffering, of hope and failure and passion and striving for something bigger than you. Is that because we as people, as individuals can't identify with it? Do we not strive for something bigger than ourselves? The reason we like music is because we identify with some aspect of it; so why don't we identify with single acts like Greyson Capps, a loner, a troubadour? Because we aren't all loners and troubadours? Could be.

But let's look at what we do identify with. Dance music. Hip hop. "Relationship music." Love songs. American Idol. It's all very flat. Where's the depth? Norah Jones is okay, kind of the Frank Sinatra tradition. I don't count Dylan, The Stones, or anyone who is still making music but really belongs to the sixties and seventies. They don't count. It has to be musicians that are defining themselves now. The Black Eyed Peas and Outkast try to push the envelope, do new things and make a difference. I'll give them credit for that. I haven't heard what he does, but everyone seems to like Kanye West these days. K-Fed certainly isn't the savior of music, but nobody is claiming that he is. But to think he believed he had a chance to connect with that music says enough in itself about the current state of music.

I haven't heard anything about The Wildflowers for some time, but they and North Mississippi All-Stars have potential-they each have a member or members who come from legendary fathers (Dylan and Jim Dickinson respectively) and might be able to revive tradition. But the fact that Mary J. Blige and Mariah Carey can dominate the Billboard Music Awards is frightening.

There have to be more Tom Morello's out there, people who were at Harvard, training to be a businessman, who fell in love with music, who don't just make music but want to say something with it, to really make a difference in the world, to bring about change, to make a point, to pour out their soul with passion and the need to do it. Most of the music I hear to today isn't urgent like that; it doesn't search the depths. The sixties were urgent. Dylan and Tom Waits were urgent. They had to get their songs out; Dylan wrote on napkins and dashboards-I'm sure Waits did the same. Lots of old music was urgent; that's how they made it. It's hard to find music being made today that is truly urgent. Rage Against The Machine has a sense of urgency. Lucinda Williams is urgent. There is an element of that in what the All-Stars do. I've heard it in other places, too. But I heard it in nearly everything before; it was a part of the music, an inherent element of it. Why is that? What changed? Were there more true artists then? Twenty, thirty, forty plus years ago? Was society as a whole more urgent, more demanding, more sophisticated, and more interesting? Were people less money driven? I don't know; I wasn't alive then. I can't say.

Producers want to reel albums out now; maybe the artists aren't given the time or flexibility to really put their heart and soul into it. Or maybe musicians feel that if no one is complaining about the quality of their work then why not reel them out? There's more money to be had that way. I don't know; there has to be more to it than that. There are real artists out there. They didn't just stop being born one day. Overall, when it comes to art, it seems to me that our society is sleeping. I feel there is a lack of concern and passion and interest and so on. I could be wrong. There might be a Dylan somewhere scribbling a song that will wake the nation. There could be a Hunter S. Thompson in training, a purse full of pills and a flaming pen. There could be the next Lester Bangs staying up late, dropping speed and listening to music, writing about it. The bus boy at your favorite pizza parlor could be writing songs in the back. Who knows? But until I see it, I don't see it. I don't see urgency in general, and certainly not in most of today's music. I don't see the movement. Something, someday, will wake us all up, and when that happens, below is a short list of some names, in music, that people will find. (Asterisks mean the artist is still alive and performing; I left off names like Hank Williams and Muddy Waters because I don't think they have been forgotten yet.)

Big Bill Broonzy
Roy Buchanan
Paul Butterfield (& his Blues Band)
R.L. Burnside
Captain Beefheart (& his Magic Band)
Leroy Carr
Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds*
Clifton Chenier
Alex Chilton*
Ry Cooder*
Reverend Gary Davis
Jim Dickinson*
Willie Dixon
Mark Dufresne
Champion Jack Dupree
Jesse Fuller
Paul Geremia*
Robert Gordon
Woody Guthrie
John Hammond*
Tim Hardin
Dan Hicks & his Hot Licks
Lightnin Hopkins
Lonnie Johnson
Albert King
Koerner, Ray & Glover
Jim Kweskin (& his Jug Band)
Sonny Landreth*
J.B. Lenoir
Robert Lockwood, Jr.* (one of last, true living bluesman)
Ewan MacColl
Uncle Dave Macon
John Mayall (& the Bluesbreakers)*
Delbert McClinton*
Mississippi Fred McDowell
Blind Willie McTell
Moon Mullican
Charlie Musselwhite*
Fred Neil
Washington Phillips
Professor Longhair
Jimmy Reed
Tex Ritter
Jimmie Rodgers
Jimmy Rogers
Dave Van Ronk
Tom Rush*
Eric Von Schmidt
Lightnin Slim
Lynwood Slim
Sonny Terry & Brownie McGhee
Merle Travis
Bob Wills (& his Texas Playboys)
Johnny "Big Moose" Walker
Little Walter
Jesse Winchester
Big Joe Williams
Sonny Boy Williamson
Link Wray (just recently died)
All artists from American Anthology of Folk Music (vol. I-V)
And, of course, many, many others…