I’d completely forgotten about this post and the interesting discussion it spurred! For all the topics we kick around I especially like when we find a way into this sort of discussion. A lot of the participants on this topic have been quiet over the last months – or longer. A lot of you weren’t here when we first kicked this around. Maybe you’ve got something new to add, maybe not. If nothing else I hope this is a worthwhile trip down memory lane.
This post initially appeared 3/14/07.
In checking out some Sonic Youth tracks recently, I think I came across the common link in much of what I don’t like in rock music: an, at least, perceived lack of musical lack of hierarchy. I like hearing musicians come to the fore. I like knowing who’s the Alpha Dog. Too many singers, too many soloists, too many anythings doing their thing simultaneously and democratically is almost always a kiss of death for my ears.
Sonic Youth has 3 singers, none of whom distinguishes him- or herself. All 3 stringed musicians hammer away without great regard for foreground and background. No one’s in charge. It’s like that scene in Apocalypse Now, when Sheen and company arrive at a wild, tripped out base, with fireworks and gunfire going off indiscriminately.
“Who’s in charge around here?” or some such thing Sheen asks a stoned soldier listening to the guitar solos of Randy Hansen. “I am,” comes his chilling answer.
The Grateful Dead play way too nice with each other. The Byrds all sing and play together, not really caring who’s out front. Wire’s Pink Flag glides along at a narrow, fairly flat plane.
It would follow that I don’t like Ornette Coleman‘s music, but I do. When his mess of democratic musicians mix it up, they do so with a competitive edge. “You think you can noodle, Bern?” I can sense Jamaldeen Tacuma yelling over to guitarist Bern Nix, “I’ll show you some noodlin’…let me move up to the upper reaches of my bass and riff off your riff!”
I tend to like bands that live up to Colonel Kurtz’ view of the world. You know who’s in charge. You know who plays what role. When someone else does need to step forward, others step aside. There’s a brutal purpose to every song, solo, and so forth.
I thought the scene was Sheen saying, “Whose your C.O.?” and the soldier says, “I thought *you* were.” In any case, this explains a lot, Mr. Mod. You have an above normal regard for the feelings of the audience (not just that they like the show, as in a good review or a purchased CD, but that they might have a good time you know nothing about – but the idea seems important to you), and are, on this site, highly egalitarian. Yet the hierarchy within bands is a very rigid concept. Is this part of what bugs you about the singers ’round the one mic? I agree that it bothers me, too, about certain bands. As a matter of focus. Certainly the Byrds get mushy in that sense. And I think Ornette doesn’t lack focus, it just shifts with the metabolic speed of a hummingbird’s wings. Yet the opposite is some of what irks me about Prince. No other voices ever steal the reins noticeably. I think it comes back to Swift’s conclusions on Utopia: the best system is a benign monarchy. Not too many voices, but not only one either, and you take your luck on the longevity of “benign.”
Not really. What bugs me about that cool-when-it-works scenario is the false hope it has inspired in so many bands of much lesser talent. I can’t tell you how many takes we’ve gone through trying this “cool” method, takes that only I would admit were doomed long before we checked levels and determined who would wear what headphones.
I do like what you say regarding Prince. You’re right. His power runs rampant in whatever configuration he puts together. He never allows for – or, more importantly, encourages – the bar brawl/one-upsmanship that the best band leaders can – and should – inspire. So you’re right, I let my own points run rampant with The Truth. The Truth is that strong leadership must encourage shared power; however, that power is not an entitlement.
How does this theory mesh with your liking Eno’s ambient albums? Weren’t they made to negate such hierarchy?
As often happens, Mr. Mod puts his finger on an essential issue. As just as often happens, he takes the “My Way or the Highway” approach to a slightly more complicated issue.
Quite seriously, the complicated and changing relationship between the individual and the ensemble is particularly at the heart of American music as such: American march music, jazz-blues and its offshoots, etc. I’m not saying that it’s no issue at all in, say, classical music or opera (and theater/cabaret music is another if related issue), but it’s certainly in the American context that these two ideas–the value of the individual, and the relationship of the individual to the group–have been highlighted most directly.
The first significantly documented of the jazz virtuosos–Louis Armstrong and Sidney Bechet mainly, though there are others (I’m not quite sure Jelly Roll counts as a virtuoso, but I’m willing to hear arguments)–helped change the focus from ensemble playing (often quite complex in its changes) to the idea of the soloist–the foreground–and the rhythm section–the background. Certainly that’s the general framework in which rock and roll develops, although in early rock and roll soloing was much more minimal than it became later. Some musicians (let’s call them the workers) establish the pulse of the music and remain lesser known, and some musicians (let’s call them the elite) do their thing out in front and become famous.
That’s still the dominant format of most American rock and roll and pop offshoots, and I’ll grant Mr. Mod this much: since the music was originated with the foreground/background split in operation, attempts to change that basic aspect of the music can be very difficult. Mainly, I don’t think rock and roll musicians succeed at departing from it, although there are exceptions; more successful departures (like Coleman’s harmelodics) can be found in jazz, modern classical, and the best kinds of experimental music. Rock and roll is mainly a simpler form of music, and when those simple forms are violated too much, it quickly begins not to sound like rock and roll at all.
Perhaps we need a new Rocktown term–Armstrongism. The metaphor in the name is perfect, I think. Armstrongism refers to the idea that the personality/virtuoso ability of the frontman is finally an essential element of great music.
Y’all have a good day.
Townsman Mark, I hope you and others see that I’m not taking a My Way or the Highway approach, just hanging up a highway sign suggesting one possible route. My post was highly personal, yet I expect nothing less than a public discussion over the thoughts expressed. The way you’ve taken this discussion back into the history of American music is great. I think it adds a lot of context. I look forward to what develops from here. Thanks.
I can certainly accept that. You’re a Subjective Armstrongist, not an Absolutist Armstrongist. Distinction noted.
This can also be a “budgetary” decision as well sometimes… uhm, for those with lesser talent, or lesser money, and even fewer great sounding mics to work with due to uhm, budgetary restrictions (and not having 1.3 mil to move around with;)
do you mean because of the way that they sing, or just when they sing together? I’m thinking Kim’s vocals on Bull In the Heather and to me that song’s distinct of her style…
There’s this band, let’s call the The Clean, who, it seems to me, are all about the ensemble playing, with only vaguely Armstrongish vapors which could be observed emanating from member David Kilgour. I’m sure we can all come up with several examples right off the bat of non-Armstrongian rock that achieves greatness. But maybe it’s a kind of greatness that Mr. Mod can’t quite bring himself to latch onto due to the absence of an Armstrongian hero. Perhaps total ensemble immersion and obvious undifferentiation of musicians and what they’re playing creates music that is more of the head, more intellectual, less obviously of the heart, ie, of emotion/desire. Probably why Mr. Mod keeps picking on the likes of Wire. It’s easier to sound like a musician “means it” in the Armstrongian sense. Still, I can listen to an Eno ambient piece or something by the Byrds or Wire or Stereolab and feel like the song itself “means it”. I don’t necessarily need to think of it as a particular musician’s individual effort to connect to it.
It’s not just an “Armstrongian hero” that I seek/expect but a sense that the band members have a base with which to work AND then can leap forward, as both the song and their individual style demand. I’ve heard the music of The Clean. I’m always tempted to pull the trigger and buy one of their albums. They may be the best (to my ears) of that whole lot of Aussie/NZ ensemble flatliners that you and some other friends like.
The head vs heart thing is overplayed regarding me and my tastes. I’ve always felt that few album titles better capture what the listening experience offers than Dancing in Your Head. That’s the feeling I seek. When it’s just Pink Flag-era Wire (and I’m specifically citing that album, because my in-depth re-examination of them a few years ago taught me that the second album is actually pretty good [and I always liked the third one]) doing their punk-rock aerobics workout mixes, with no one capable of stepping to the fore and no ensemble playing driving home anything that stunning to my tastes, then I’m outta here. I don’t doubt that Wire’s first album of music “means” something or gives off some significant vibe, just that for me they produce a narrow, flat band of music that rarely intersects with who I am and what I care about.
Does anyone really like music to which they do not have an emotional response? When I ask for this out of music, I’m not saying I need the song to have lyrics about heartbreak or death or overt joy; I’m saying that I need to feel my own emotional response when listening to the song. This really comes down to how the music hits me, and I think it’s the give and take of a band working within a strong hierarchy that’s more likely to hit me than a band that just lets it flow in some way. It’s not that the band that is pushing against a firm structure is necessarily playing a more “meaningful” song than the other band but that the former band’s music is creating a stir. They could be singing about watching a brick wall, for all I care, but the music is more likely to stir me. The latter band could be singing the most lovely words about a favorite, deceased grandmother, for all I care, but if the music sounds like mush or has no “width” and depth to it, I’m less likely to be moved by it.
This is now probably less clear than it was, but I trust there’s a straight shooter around here who will do a better job of explaining what I’m getting at.
Here’s something I’d like to better understand: When you like a band in “total ensemble immersion and obvious undifferentiation of musicians” what is it exactly that you’re getting out of the music? Saying it’s simply in your head doesn’t make it any better than saying it’s hitting the heart. The latter claim just makes you sound like a bozo waiting for the next Eddie Money record to hit. What does the former claim, if without better explanation, suggest?
Sally C, when I say that none of the SY singers distinguishes him- or herself, I mean to say that none of them make me think, “I wish that singer sang more songs!” They’re all equally mediocre-to-bad.
For one thing, the ability to relisten to a song multiple times and focus on different bits each time, some of which reveal previously unexplored depths to the song. You don’t get as much of that if there’s one element of the song that you’re “supposed” to pay attention to.
For another, and this is particularly important to Sonic Youth, since they’re at least partially under discussion: I’m a big fan of the clash of harmonics. Sonic Youth’s noodly-soundscape bits hit the same pleasure point for me as Steve Reich’s early music (especially his pulse work and the very early tape pieces like “Come Out” and “It’s Gonna Rain”), because they often do the same thing: when two instruments are playing something that almost but not quite syncs up, the ear creates a third instrument that doesn’t actually exist. My well-documented love of drones is connected to all of this as well.
Just for the record, I myself don’t think “total ensemble immersion and obvious undifferentiation of musicians” exists in any absolute sense. There’s always a tension between individual and ensemble even in ensemble approaches–any time any specific sound stands out in any way at all, individual performance is being highlighted.
It wasn’t that you couldn’t tell the difference between who was playing what in an early jazz ensemble, for instance. It’s just that there was no soloist, and the melody, and changes on it, were always being played by several instruments at once. Hearing how all those instruments work together is the pleasure in such music. And the fact that you could always just go ahead and admire, say, the trumpet playing only, if you wanted to, seems an inevitable lead-in to the Armstrong stage. And Armstrong himself is more a part of the ensemble in the early Hot Fives and Sevens than later. He becomes more obviously the central attraction only as time goes on.
“the best system is a benign monarchy.”
That’s awesome. I’ve long said that bands work best as benign dictatorships.
Democracy is unworkable in most bands. The few bands who seem to come the closest are the Dead and U2.
This is why I’ve always been a pretty mediocre band leader. I get too concerned about building a general consensus, whereas sometimes, someone just has to say “We’re doing it this way.” I think the problem lies in my insecurities as a guitarist and songwriter. It’s tough to tell people how things should go if they are better musicians than you.
cdm wrote:
Not that the results are anything to write home about, but try telling this to the two bossiest and musically least accomplished members of our band!
Teenage Fanclub have long boasted of their democratic organization. There are three songwriters in the band, and for the last few releases, each songwriter gets an equal amount of songs per album. Or course, their albums have gotten more and more boring, perhaps as a result.
I think Sonic Youth is a more complicated case. Mr. Mod’s view of their hierarchy is kinda subjective, owing to his general distaste. But I love them, so I too am compromised. That said, I think there are two closet Armstrongians in that band, but they’re the two guys with the lowest profile.
Hey Mod, I know you like Henry Cow, and they’re about as “musically collective” as you can get.
From the day “Guitar Hero” was spray-painted on Steve Jones’s guitar amp, punk has been all about making fun of/resisting leadership roles/poses (also see Ramones, Talking Heads).
And PIL’s second edition is truly groundbreaking in that regard, using dub techniques to fracture the hierarchy of vocals-music-rhythm.
But come on, Dr. John, Talking Heads could often be extremely hierarchical, with Byrne dominating things to the point of almost completely alienating the other members. I’ll give you Remain in Light, which truly does emphasize the groove and the collective, for the most part. But that’s no punk album. And the band still fought about composition credits on it.
Yes, I do like Henry Cow, and this is proof that I do NOT dislike all music that falls under my “common link.” The music of Henry Cow, however, does sound highly structured to me. I think the arrangements of a song can be the “alpha dog” in their own right, which leads to my next response…
Talking Heads, dr john? I disagree. They’ve got a very clear hierarchy. Everything is structured to support those songs and Byrne’s take on things. I’d say the same goes for the music of The Ramones. How more structured and hierarchical can music be than The Ramones?
I agree with you about PiL’s Second Edition, although I could argue that Lydon’s presence as a vocalist is so strong that it shines despite all attempts to get “lost” in the music.
Okay, I was wrong about the Talking Heads. And yet, Byrne and Eno’s My Life in the Bush of Ghosts, with its found vocals taped off radio broadcasts, completely dismissed the idea of singer as ego-driven (in this musical context). Also there was something almost “faceless” about the band (at least up to Remain in Light), complimenting Byrne’s use of ready-made lyrics.
And on the Ramones first record, the mix was almost completely democratic, with everything evenly divided.
My point is within hierarchies there are the seeds of democracy, and vice-versa (beware of false dichotomies).
Probably best, really, for music to be both, though I do like really “directed” music as well as music that sounds as if it’s falling apart.
I guess I missed this discussion the first time around. Wouldn’t another way to look at this issue be the concepts of masculine and feminine? Rock is often an expression of masculine energy with the emphasis on aggressiveness and drive. There’s a reason they call them power chords. A rock band can be like a football team, which is perhaps the purest expression of masculine energy short of a military unit. You can take the position that a band needs a quarterback.
On the other hand there are kinds of music where the power is more diffuse and individual musicians sublimate their wills to the music itself rather than to the bandleader. The listener is immersed in the music just as the players are.
I think people are attracted to these two types of music for different reasons. Sometimes you might like a certain song or a certain style because it perfectly expresses your nature. But it might also be the case that you’re drawn to music that expresses aspects of your personality that are less developed. So someone who is timid by nature might be excited by ACDC, while an alpha male might like to relax to ambient techno.
These are mysterious processes.
Oh, so now you’re calling hrrundivbakshi a wuss, BigSteve? 🙂
Believe me, I’m really not trying to use this thread to argue against anything people have to say on the matter (as you know I sometimes do). When I first put this out there it was me running something up the flagpole to see what I might learn as much as anything else. I learned stuff to flesh out my perspective the first time around and I’m learning stuff to this day.
Reading BigSteve’s musings made me think that sometimes the two extremes of extreme dictatorship and pure democracy end up merging. Think of Beefheart and Trout Mask Replica in particular. By many accounts a very dictatorial situation but with assignments so defined that the final result sounds extremely democratic. Nothing, at least nothing instrumentally, stand out, It fits together like a jigsaw puzzle and you need each piece or else there’s no picture.
And Mr. Mod, is there an RTH outreach program? Where are so many of those posters in the original thread? Surely all of them can’t have gotten a life!
Excellent question, Al. I will do my best to reach out to these old friends.
Super interesting thread. What do you do when all the musicians are equally kick-ass, each upfront with equanimity? I’m thinking Elvis and the Attractions or the Minutemen. Does this bother you Mr. Mod? No one’s trying to outdo each other, per se … but each has carved out his special part so well you can listen to the songs again and again, each time digging on a different player.
That’s the ideal for me, machinery. I wasn’t trying to suggest, necessarily, that there is ONE alpha dog, just that the songs and performances are structured to allow for musicians to come to the fore. Maybe Sonic Youth, for instance, actually does that and I just can’t follow it, but most of the time I hear what sounds like a group that wants to “do it’s own thing” while not stepping on anyone’s toes. The Dead also seem to favor “playing fair,” but it’s at the expense of the two musicians (Garcia and Lesh) who should actually be the unchallenged leaders of that band’s sound. So some bands have 3 or 4 musicians who can assume leadership at points in a song while others have just 1 or 2. Then there are bands like Teenage Fanclub, which do a good job at submerging all musical personalities for the good of their songs. At least they know their limitations and play a true “team game.”
Remember, when I first posed this thought, it was only half baked. After all that’s been added to this thread, then and now, maybe it’s three-quarter baked.
Ha. Maybe Sonic Youth is the 80’s Dead. Not a fan of either.