Not only do I no longer keep up with this music, I actually seem to have developed something verging on an antipathy to it. I have scoffed my way through various people's attempts to get me to the appreciate the likes of Iron and Wine, that other one I confuse with Iron and Wine (maybe it's the one you went to see that had suddenly included a horn section? or was that actually Iron and Wine), the National, Kurt Vile, you name it. I swear I look at the beard-y faces of these guys and I just...can't. Even when I can't see their faces--even if they don't have facial hair!--I feel like I can hear the beards.
Probably my problem has something to do with the earnestness, the sincere-but-ironic-but-sincere thing that Gen Y has made its signature, but honestly with the exception of the ever-brilliant James McMurtry I can't really stand much of this sort of thing from people Gen X or older either. I would crawl through glass (ok, just figuratively) if someone told me that on the other side was the music of a woman as brilliant and edgy and musically inventive as PJ Harvey or Liz Phair in their prime, but no one like that has come down the pike in quite some time. (Laura Marling and Martha Wainwright are probably the closest in recent years, but neither has quite the teeth of PJ or Liz for me.)
So yeah, it's kind of a gender problem. But it's a gender problem because it's an identification problem. I don't feel engaged by the feelings being conveyed, and to me that's what singer-songwriter music is all about. I can't find the women who would speak to me, and these days the men really don't. (I have no such problem with Elliott Smith, who I love unequivocally; I still haven't quite worked that one out.)
As this state of affairs has gone on longer and longer, I've grown to dislike even the signature sound of singer-songwriter-y music: the unprocessed voice, the bright, right-in-your-ear guitar strumming, the unmistakeable sound of yearning. Give me something so glossy that discerning sincerity in it is actually work (the Beyonce tracks I linked to before).
Or something harsh and performative and slick:
or humming with affects that are compelling because they are not identifiable:
or with its emotion couched in music so dark that its delivers its feelings with a be-careful-what-you-wish-for smirk:
or that's an express refusal of all emotion:
All these songs are, not incidentally, from albums that would easily make my top ten or 20 of 2013. Their gender politics are no better--and in some cases they are much, much worse--than the Iron and Wines of this world, but I guess the difference is that I'm not expecting to identify. I don't feel as if the point of the music is to present me with a set of feelings that I can recognise as sincere and embrace accordingly. At this point in my life, I can deal with Kanye's straight-up misogyny better than I can the introspective musings of a sincere guy I'm supposed to like but can't.
My embrace of emotional distance in music probably explains why the first-person songwriting I've enjoyed the most in the last five or so years has come more out of hiphop than folk traditions. It has as much of an individual perspective and distinctive musical signature as what would usually be classed as singer-songwriter stuff: the feeling of another person there, thinking aloud, in a personal musical style. But the generic difference makes a difference. I think it's because the conventions of hiphop are all about how specific and in some way unknowable the life being described is. This track by Skinnyman is so brilliant because he tells us all the reasons why it's so hard to understand his world, but then manages to deliver a slice of it anyway.
I've been turning your post over and over in my mind for the past week (btw, I can't figure out how to html in the comments, so I apologise in advance if this all comes out as an horrendous jumble of unlinky linkys). If the music that you've drifted away from might be (reductively) defined as [1boy + 1beard + 1guitar] x complex-emotions-squared, then I guess I've drifted a little away from that too. If I'm honest, too not much has touched me really since "I'm Wide Awake It's Morning", "Seven Swans", "The Letting Go", and "Our Endless Numbered Days", and three of those are a decade old already. (It was indeed Iron & Wine whose flirtation with heavy sax left me utterly cold at a gig, and is the person with whom he might be beardly confused Will Oldham/Bonnie Prince Billy: http://www.newyorker.com/images/2009/01/05/p465/090105_r18070_p465.jpg ?). Anyway, the only exception to that is the first Bon Iver album, which in terms of its creation and lyrical complexity is probably sui generis (and which probably in retrospect initiated my obsession with contemporary music's emphasis on the silences-between-the-sounds, but that's another story altogether).
ReplyDeletePossibly there are two things going on simultaneously: one is your move away from this kind of music, and the other is also music itself pulling away from this format. To deal with the last point first, I think there are perhaps several things going on at the same time. In the UK, I think there's something here about the Radio 2-isation of earnest guitar music. A decade or two ago, Radio 2 was still rocking special programmes devoted to bontempi classics, marching band favourites, and 'Gentleman' Jim Reeves. Since it put Wogan etc out to pasture and repositioned the station the superhighway of MOR, it has provided the route to success for numerous godawful over-sincere strummers, from Blunt to Mumford, and that I think has to a certain extent tarnished that form of musical expression: it feels too safe, too AOR, too middle class, even when it's not.
Obviously, this hasn't happened in the States, and my knowledge of pathways to musical consumption there is hugely limited, but I do wonder if there's been some kind of blurring of the lines between earnest singer/songwriter stuff and 'americana' (whatever that is). Certainly, some of the stuff that makes it over here in this genre has seemed to be that way: Iron & Wine split an EP with southwestern strum-merchants Calexio, the Avett Brothers plough this furrow with distinction (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U9QWvdg4_KU), and I absolutely adored Nathaniel Rateliff's first album (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m-wbAwK2eUY). But across both musical cultures one gets the sense that boy-beard-guitar is slowly being replaced by boy-beard-sequencer, or at the very least there's a desire to try to deconstruct the traditional eyes-closed finger-picking yearning sound and rebuild it with spectral electronics. For me, Maps blazed a bit of the trail here (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XyU4jOIkdhw), but the highwater mark and exemplar is the collaboration between earnest and bearded King Creosote and electronic wizard Jon Hopkins. I saw them play their album "Diamond Mine" in its entirety at the City Varieties in Leeds, and they were breath-taking (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i34ZOaWotrY). I think, should they continue working together, they point the way to the future reinvention of traditional strumfolk. I think something similar is happening in terms of women & guitar: certainly I haven't listened to anything recently that's been even remotely as musically brilliant and emotionally articulate as "Tigerlily" or "The Greatest" (although, as you say, Laura Marling's second album does come close). The real exciting invention seems to be in the territory that sits between traditional female singer-songwriter and electronica: Silje Nes (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MoapjW67o04), Chelsea Wolfe (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HSHfFZF_k4A), Zola Jesus (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gCZuVTikW-k).
ReplyDeleteAnyway, back to your first point about your own pull away from this territory. I couldn't agree more with your brilliant point that sincerity has been one of the major casualties of the millennial music wars unless it's pre-shrink wrapped with its own protective polycoating of winked irony. When we're individuated and self-defined as special and unique, claims to empathy are inherently suspicious. Is it also an age thing too? I had "Achtung Baby" on yesterday, and I couldn't but laugh at the image of my fourteen year old self, singing along (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6snI72LGfP4) with my eyes closed, nursing some trifling heartbreak, thinking "ZOMG he's talking about meeeeeeeeeeeeee". At our age, have we felt all the feels? Do we need any more of them, especially when the extra load involves emotional projection? Are we instead scouring music for otherness, emotional alterity, rather than just stuff we think we already know? What you say makes great sense.
ReplyDeleteYeah, it was Bon Iver I couldn't think of, but I do lump Bonnie Prince Billy into my Big Sack of Annoying Beards as well. Really your comments are the post I was trying to write, but you've got more clarity on the issue than I do. I especially appreciated your insight that at our age, we may have just Felt All the Feels, and therefore be ready to have some other, less identification-centric relationship to music. That's exactly what I think I was trying to get at by acknowledging that I might just not be the audience for Gen Y musings: it's less that I don't belong to that particular location within the history of musical style, than that I'm not that particular age when I want things to Speak To Me in that way. (I think part of why I have de facto given Elliott Smith a pass is that he always seemed to present himself as out of sync with everyone any way--that's kind of the point of 'Rose Parade'.) Though I have to confess hope you got something out of a return to Achtung Baby despite a bit of impatience with your 14-year-old self? The more I think about it, the more U2's big post-earnestness declaration seemed apropos to this whole topic. Even better than the real thing.
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