August 21, 2003
Maybe we deserve to die.
The record industry, I mean. I am catching up on my Billboard magazine reading (must have my weekly dose of depressing news), and came accross this, from Steve Smith's announcement that he is leaving as the Classical writer:
"Despite the dire atmosphere in the industry, I am contantly reminided of the reason for their efforts. As EMI Classics A & R director Peter Alward said to me almost two years ago: 'Every generation will wish to have the musical heroes of its time preserved for posterity. And that's our role.'"
It is? If my job is to preserve musical heroes, then let me out. I am here to preserve and promote good music, especially local musics that are on the verge of extinction. I do not drive to El Cerrito every day simply so that Santiago Jimenez Sr. (may he rest in peace) is preserved for his aging cronies, rather that Amália's generation will have an opportunity to hear the exciting music that was pounded out on button accordions, bajo sexto, and tolaloche in the 1940's in San Antonio.
Certainly this preservation of heroes is important. It is fun talking to an octogenarian with a thick Bayou accent who is tickled to find Wade Fruge available on CD, but that is one small facet of why the recording industry is important.
I find this hero-preservation attitude especially strange in the world of Classical music. I grew up on Neville Marriner and the Academy of St. Martin in the Fields. Fun stuff. I still get a smile when I hear the records of them sawing into some Bach concerto or another, but to be stuck thinking that ASMF is the final word of baroque performance and to still want to reach for them as a first choice, well, God forbid.
There is something sad about listening to music primarily for nostalgia, and that is what the attitude of preserving heroes is about. I might pull out the Ralph Kirkpatrick Scarlatti recordings (and I do frequently), but I am much more interested in the Scarlatti than the Kirkpatrick. Kirkpatrick was and remains a musical hero of mine. He cataloged the master, and had an exciting style on the harpsichord. But to put on a Kirkpatrick disc and wallow in nostalgia for my days as a student just discovering how magnificent Scarlatti is on the harspichord is depressing if done with any regularity.
Certainly when I get a new Scarlatti CD there are going to be moments of nostalgia - the way Sophie Yates plays something might trigger a memory of Kirkpatrick or Landowski or even tea and madeleines, but it should be balanced with the joy of discovery or the awe of pure musical power (if you know Yates's music you will know what I am talking about) or the humility of realizing that I interpreted an ornament incorrectly or whatever.
When someone takes a chance on an Arhoolie title, I hope he is expecting musical ideas to interact with, not just a wave of good feelings remembered long ago. I hope that when people, for old time's sake, put on something from their teenage years, that it no longer resonates with the urgency that it once did. If it still does, that is unspeakably sad. A 35 year old who is moved by Duran Duran the same way he was at 17 is in need of help.
The music industry must see itself as enjoying the rare privilege of making a living by contributing to our culture. As an industry, we have neglected the role of cultural gatekeeper in favor of making the quick buck. When we find ourselves pushing crap that no one really wants to hear, spending tremendous amounts of money to get ever diminishing sales, perhaps it is time for some introspection. We have gutted future markets by neglecting to develop discerning ears. In the folk world, a generation has been so self-absorbed as to have done nothing to pass on a love of traditional music (it is great that the Boomers found the joy of tradition, but why are their children so indifferent? I submit that it is because most Boomers only discovered part of the tradition - it is why they fail to see a disconnect between loving traditional Italian music and not practicing the Catholic Faith - not that one needs to completely dive into every culture - I like Balinese Gamelan and have no interest in becoming a Hindoo, but these Boomers seem to have no roots into any tradition). It is easy for us in non-Pop genres to say that we are not the problem, but when confronted by statements like the above from CLASSICAL men, it is time to look at what we have done.
I spend almost all of my time pushing records to our usual audience: affluent Boomers. Don't get me wrong, I like our customers. They are smart, interested in traditional music, etc. But they have bought a lot of records. They cannot see why they need another Clifton Chenier, another Lydia Mendoza. Also, I HAVE to spend most of my time working the existing audience. Our survival depends on it. And when it comes down to it, I am just as much in the dark as the next guy as to how we can interest younger folks in this great music, to convince them that they should have heard at least one Lydia Mendoza record, that dancing to Clifton Chenier is much more fun than the twisted androgynous gyrations that go on in those hideous darkened dens of dunk-skunk-dunk-skunk:dogs-and-cats-and-dogs-and-cats-and/dunk-skunk-dunk-skunk (if you are lost on this last bit, consider yourself lucky - you have not been in a techno-club. Keep it that way. Preserve your ears and offend not your eyes).
If this attitude of sentimental nostalgia is as prevalent as I think it is, it is no wonder the industry is so sick. If there is good to come from advertising and marketing tricks, it must be in bringing to the attention of our audiences some musical gem that they would not otherwise hear about. If we are just selling nostalgia and embalmed heroes, then would the last person at RIAA please turn out the lights.
Well, lunch is over, the sandwich is eaten. In the words of Ian Shoales, I Gotta Go...