The Lyon in Winter

When I first started watching Fox's breakout hit Empire, I will admit that I was mostly watching from the standpoint that this show was probably going to be bad, but in a good way (and I would argue that my delayed-live-tweeting of the pilot was an indication of my basic mindset. But I stand behind everything I said regarding Cookie's various hairstyles. I could probably write an entire blog post solely about Cookie's mid-90s Philly Blond Wig from tonight's episode). I did find the show intriguing enough to keep at it, and while I have not had the chance to watch it 'live,' I have been doing my best to stay current. I had heard rumors flying around that the most recent episode was particularly noteworthy and let me just echo that sentiment with a resounding 'YAAAAAAAAAAAAAS.' Because Empire kicked it up a notch this week to almost Kimberly-blew-up-the-apartment-Melrose-level crazy--stated with all due respect--and has proven itself to be a worthy heir of its primetime soap ancestors.

Let me start by taking a moment to acknowledge the direction of John Singleton for this episode (yes, that John Singleton who made Boyz N the Hood) and who, I think, really got what primetime soaps are supposed to be all about. This is over-the-top crazy ridiculous nonsense, in the most compelling and amazing way. Not to mention that there is no taking your foot off the gas in this episode, which is precisely what this genre requires. The dramatic moments are stacked one on top of the other, so that if you had to briefly summarize what happened, you would just basically give up (in this way, primetime soaps are similar to many French and Italian 19th-C operas, where event after event occurs, leading to the denouement. So the opposite of Wagner). And while previous episodes had moments bordering on such sublime improbability, this week succeeded to an unprecedented degree. Don't get me wrong. Past episodes foreshadowed that this show had what it takes to make it. My all-time favorite line was from last week, when Cookie casually dropped the fact that the Nation of Islam killed Lucious' father (Whaaaaaaaaaaaat? And no, there has been absolutely no follow-up. None. Nada. I cannot wait).

Other things that Empire has given us: Countless animal prints. A replica Elizabeth Taylor engagement ring. Board meetings with basketballs (yes, 'meetings' was plural there on purpose). What is possibly a rendering of Napoleon (someone on a horse?) on Hakeem's wall. Cookie preparing to go to war by taking out a gun, a wad of cash, and then pausing to don a fierce hat. Naomi Campbell as Hakeem's quite-a-lot older 'side piece.' A piano in virtually every room. Judd Nelson as exploitative villain. A club named Leviticus. Let me repeat that one, because it bears repeating: a club named Leviticus.

Where Empire differs from its forebearers, though, is in its ability to tie together various strands of cultural products, much in the same way that hip hop does. While there is no 'mixing' per se, the uncanny way that Empire draws on a variety of influences by presenting them both simultaneously and in juxtaposition is extraordinary. We see the glamor and violence of hip hop: artists perform on stage, then get in gunfights backstage. We see the underclass of Philly and the conspicuous consumption of New York's 1% (in this week's episode, Cookie's younger sister stated, 'Your kids aren't real, they're rich,' referring to the fact that she was far more concerned about saving her family from drug lords than Cookie could ever need to be. In the same episode, one of Cookie's kids walked around a hip hop video set downing champagne at will). Lucious' father was killed by the Nation, while his finacé was a debutant. Even the music is starting to feature a rift between the radio-ready, Drake-ish offerings of Hakeem ('Drip Drop') and the RnB arabesques of Jamal, inspired by the fact that he lives in the one neighborhood in Brooklyn wholly unaffected by gentrification. Oh, and did I forget to mention the Rihanna-esque character Tiana, this week revealed to be a lesbian? Within the first five minutes of this week's episode? So basically as a subplot?

[Ed. note: I need to point out that 'Kid Fo-Fo,' from previous episodes, is pretty much my favorite fake rapper name ever]

This show has been touted as a combination of Shakespeare's King Lear and the classic 1968 film The Lion in Winter (...and the family name is Lyon, get it?). At first, I thought that these comparisons were facile--all of these share the common theme of three kids, all fighting over an empire. But the more we learn about these characters, the more complicated these relationships become. The Lion in Winter also highlighted the flaws and contradictions in all of its characters--it's almost like a moviefied primetime soap in this respect:

I'm not sure how FOX managed to find a mid-season show that could evoke all of these varied and different responses in only five episodes, all in this modern setting of a hip hop label. There has been some talk that this version of hip hop feels slightly outdated, but I don't think that this is necessarily a criticism; certainly the show makes use of modern media and feels present to me. Like any empire, I'm sure that this one will eventually be toppled by something bigger and better, but until then, look upon this work, ye mighty, and do not despair. The primetime soap is back and it may be better than ever.

Our Top 10 Posts of 2014

Here at SGS headquarters we're wrapping up our 2014 year with a look back at our top 10 most popular posts. What's been the most surprising and fascinating to witness is how popular some of our posts truly became. Who knew that we'd get thousands and thousands of hits for posts about national anthems, drag queens singing, twerking to classical music, and ETA Hoffmann?

We're not entirely sure what these posts have in common with each other, but maybe that's a good thing. If anything, they show how eclectic our interests and tastes are. Here's to more musical explorations in 2015!

10. Black Masculinity and the Violin

9. Does the opera world have a problem fat-shaming women? Is the pope Catholic?

8. Schlock is the New Romanticism

7. The Aesthetics of Hate

6. A Girl Group Twerks to Classical Music in the Hopes of "Bringing it Back"

5. Ethnic Drag, Racial Mimicry, and Rethinking One's Musical Vernacular: The Case of Iggy Azalea

4. The Death of Klinghoffer in Simulcast

3. National Anthems: Should Players Be Forced to Sing Them?

2. Singing Drag With Conchita Wurst

1. Oh, Macklemore: anti-Semitic [sic] edition

What to do in the wake of Ferguson and Staten Island

I am sure that I am not the only one who has found it hard to know what to say in response to the recent events in Ferguson and Staten Island. It is not enough that two black men lost their lives at the hands of policemen; adding insult to the situation, the justice system does not seem to be capable of fulfilling its role as a blind arbitrator in the face of such crimes. Of course, we have seen this kind of thing before: the Trayvon Martin case is undoubtedly fresh in many minds (even if that crime was not committed by a vetted police officer, although George Zimmerman was a de facto one) and there is little reason to think that the situation will change any time soon. Like most people, I have been struck dumb not knowing what to say and paralyzed not knowing what to do.

The Eric Garner case in particular brought to mind Spike Lee's 1989 Do the Right Thing (in fact, Lee himself has made this connection--caution, disturbing footage). At the climax of this film, the character Radio Raheem is choked to death by NYPD as the police are attempting to quell a potential riot. This moment in the film was broadly based on cases where New York authorities had killed black people, although Lee was not referencing any one specific event. Perhaps that makes the parallels between what happens to Radio Raheem and Garner's death even more meaningful.

I realized today that in an ideal world, I would like for this film to no longer be viewed as an exploration of contemporary society (it is twenty-five years old), but instead as a historical document. This statement is meant with no disrespect to Spike Lee; the most persistent theme in the film is the ambiguity that lies at the heart of everyday life, and how complex it can be to determine what the right thing is, much less do it. But I would like us to look at Radio Raheem's death with a sense of disbelief because it should feel antiquated--much as I now look at the antisemitism of the Nazis as peculiar and entirely disconnected from my understanding of the world.

How do we achieve this goal? I don't have the solution, but I do have a suggestion. Follow what Spike Lee says and do the right thing. My response is not meant glibly, nor is it meant as a passive panacea--the imperative to 'do' is vital here. Just as in the film, I can't tell you what the right thing is, but I would like to encourage you to decide what that right thing can be. Draw on your skills and interests, find a way to direct them toward effecting change. Perhaps you can teach others why these issues remain important. Perhaps you can protest. Perhaps you can help change our understanding of how such crimes get reported (or not) and how the justice system operates (or not) in such cases. Perhaps you can be an advocate by making more people aware of why these situations matter. Perhaps you can fight the power. Perhaps you can help from the comfort of your own home by tracking data (this example is far removed from this specific issue, but shows the power that one person can have). Perhaps, as I am doing, you can write down your thoughts and reactions to these events.

Whatever you do, I would urge you to do the right thing for you. It's the only way that I know to make a difference.

We're Not Here For Nicki Minaj's Nazi-Inspired New Music Video

Nicki Minaj's latest music video is an example of why people should consult with their local historian before making important decisions. Called "Only," the song sounds sinister, powerful, and dangerous even though the lyrics don't match in tone (she makes a punch line out of the phrase "duct tape" and is proud of it. I can't even). But that's not the problem:

Do you remember in my previous post about Gesamkuntswerk and music videos how I argued that the visual can become intimately intertwined with the aural? Yeah. Nicki and Co. succeeded in creating the same effect here. Unfortunately, they create this sinister aura by employing Nazi aesthetics.

Already there's some push back from viewers and enthusiasts who claim that the video captures more of a Soviet-era style aesthetic, or that it's simply a stand-in for any 20th century totalitarian dictatorship. I'm not sure I can agree with that.  To me at least, this video is straight-up Leni Riefenstahl, Triumph of the Will-level crazy.

First, a brief primer on Nazi aesthetics: they do, as other scholars have already written about, have a "terrible beauty" about them. The mass parades, rallies, banners, flags, and architecture were all designed to promote an ideology of cult-like power. As a spectator or a participant during the Third Reich, one was encouraged to see themselves as part of a uniformed mass of humanity ready to carry out the vision of national socialism.

As plenty of historians such as George Mosse, Saul Friedländer, and Jonathan Petropolous have already argued, many Nazi party members (including Hitler) had a strong and cultivated aesthetic sensibility. More importantly, they believed that art and aesthetics should serve their politics. Art, Goebbels believed, could be used to manipulate the masses. If you're familiar with this blog, you might have read my post on the aesthetics of hatred already. If so, perhaps some of the same themes from that post echo here: art can be employed for terrible purposes, and effectively so because it is beautiful.

Which is why it's, um, uncomfortable that Nicki Minaj uses Nazi aesthetics in her latest video. Let's check out a couple of stills so you can see how this works:

The above image is from the opening scene of the video. Yes, the video's in black, white, and red (which doesn't help) but I think it's the party banners on the side that sealed the deal for me. Banners were ubiquitous throughout the Third Reich and appeared at all kinds of functions and events. Here's a performance by the Berlin Philharmonic that features a swastika in the background, for example:

Second, the design of the main building where Nicki sits on her throne looks awfully similar to Nazi architecture:

And here's an example of Nazi architecture (minus the flags):

Lastly, of course, are the rows of soldiers wearing red arm bands.

Granted, plenty of paramilitary troops and 20th century dictatorships slapped arm bands on men. But since the postwar era, we have come to associate this particular sartorial choice with the Nazi party.

There might be two defenses a reader could use to "rescue" Nicki Minaj from this mess, one not at all believable, the other more believable but still not satisfactory:
1. Pitchfork argues that her music video is employing classic military iconography. She's building her army, metaphorically speaking, and preparing to launch her pop-musical attack on us all.
2. She wanted to portray evil, so who better to turn to for creating feelings of fear and terror than the Nazis?

At least the second way of interpreting the video would mean that the creators of the video acknowledge its reliance in part on Nazi aesthetics. It *has* to be. No offense, but the average American listener isn't going to be familiar enough with Soviet-era dictatorships to immediately recognize those kinds of militaristic references that some viewers think this video is making. I'm still left thinking, to which other dictatorships could this video possibly be alluding?

Yeesh, this video makes me uncomfortable. And it makes me uncomfortable that people still take art and aesthetics for granted. That we assume they don't have power. That's certainly not what the Nazis thought. They used these images and icons for terrible purposes, and as a result, these aesthetic remnants have left lasting psychological scars on millions of people.

Nicki Minaj has always been interested in displaying a masculine power (she's written songs declaring herself the "King," she calls her girlfriends in this song her "sons," etc.). Perhaps that's what this video speaks to with its militaristic setting. But there are better ways to portray power and might than by using these visual cues. It's a shame (if unsurprising) that Nicki couldn't do that here.

Gesamtkunstwerking to OK Go: Pop Music Videos and Synesthesia

You're going to think I'm crazy. But I think Richard Wagner would have been fascinated by Lady Gaga. Wagner, as most of you already know, spilled much ink discussing the relationship between different artistic media (dance, theater, poetry, music). Just like "the ocean binds and separates the land," he states in his essay, "The Art-Work of the Future" (1849), "so does Music bind and separate the two opposite poles of human Art, the arts of Dance and Poetry." He hoped to unify all of the arts together through theater in particular, but at this point I think Gesamtkunstwerk has come to mean a sort of total art work encompassing a wide range of art forms. Whatever we think counts as an artistic media today (architecture, graphic design, music, dance, poetry, fashion, etc.) can be coupled together to create a greater and now truly transformed work of art. Maybe it helps to think of this process in Hegelian terms? The synthesis that results out of this dialectic is a new art form.

As much as it's fun to make fun of Wagner, he and other 19th century aesthetes asked some really great and fundamental questions about music and its relationship to the arts that still resonate today. 

Case in point: Gesamtkunstwerk exists today in pop culture, even if the people who are creating it don't know that or call it such. One of the best examples of Gesamtkunstwerk - where different artistic media have come together to create a new art form - is the music video. Comprising both the audio and the visual, bringing together poetry, music, dance, the visual arts, and drama, the music video has really become its own art form since the 1980s when MTV bust onto the scene.

True, not all music videos are amazing or illuminating, but occasionally a music video will be so powerful that it transforms how we hear a song. A great music video temporarily gives us synesthesia and brings our different senses together. It proves Wagner's claim that artistic media have the power to enhance each other. Which brings me back to Lady Gaga.

Although I think many of us are understandably over Lady Gaga and her antics, I still give her credit for conquering the pop music world in 2009 with such ferocity. And what helped her to seize power for a brief window of time was her song, "Bad Romance."

What made the song so enthralling wasn't just the music itself; it was the video that accompanied it. Numerous blogs and pop culture sites wrote post after post offering readers a frame-by-frame analysis of the video and what each shot might mean. The über-snobby indie site, Pitchfork even weighed in on "Bad Romance," which they called the best pop vide of 2009. They wrote, "And the video is part of the package: Like Madonna or Prince, it's impossible to separate the song from the performer."

When we hear "Bad Romance" on the radio, I think many of us instinctively also watch the video in our minds.

Gaga's "Bad Romance" is part of a long legacy of music videos that have truly transformed our listening experiences. There are a lot of really great songs out there with great music videos, but how many have actually altered the way we perceive or understand the song?

Here are some other music videos that I think embody this synesthestic effect/fulfill Wagner's Gesamtkunstwerk ideal:

Michael Jackson - "Thriller"

Isn't this where it all began? The song's going to come on at a Halloween party on Friday, and you're going to form your hands into claws and move about like a zombie. Just admit it. We see the video and mimic its dances when we hear the song.

Madonna - "Material Girl"

Already a riff on Marilyn Monroe's "Diamonds Are a Girl's Best Friend," Madonna's "Material Girl" video makes us see pink and glitter when we hear the song on the radio.

Madonna - Vogue

Girlfriend's clearly the expert at making music videos that are transformative aesthetic experiences.

D'Angelo - "Untitled"

D'Angelo isn't just Donna's cousin on the tv show, Parks and Rec. He's also the man behind this song that made countless people blush. It almost has a Pavlovian effect on us, no? The song floats into our ears and we blush, even though we're not watching the video.

Beyonce - "Single Ladies" 

Tell me to my face that you aren't picturing women in unitards and high heels prancing when you hear this song on the radio. TELL ME TO MY FACE. 

Sia - "Chandelier" 

Please. Everyone knows that wig and beige unitard now. And actors in this SNL skit perfectly imitated the awkward gyrations that captures the joie de vivre of the dancer in the video. 

Arcarde Fire, "The Suburbs"

This one's personal. It's hard not to think about the video now when I hear this song. If you haven't seen the video before, watch it in its entirety.

I wonder what Wagner might have to say about Nicki Minaj's "Anaconda," come to think of it. On its own, the song is rather forgettable, as plenty of critics have pointed out. But the video has had people talking for months now. 

Anyway. The point is that all of these music videos go beyond simply the music. When we hear the music alone, we automatically drudge up the visual.  

This brings me to the case of OK Go. Their music, frankly, isn't all that memorable on its own. Pitchfork constantly gives their albums a "2" out of 10.  I have no desire to listen to an OK Go album by myself in a dark room. But OK Go has become a successful music group through their clever videos. In fact, it's probably the only reason they've become popular at all. Like the other examples that I've looked at, OK Go's music is now inseparable from their videos. But OK Go also represents a departure from the norm here as well. I'd argue that OK Go would not have been able to achieve their pop music status as a musical ensemble without their visual accompaniment. 
Here's their most famous video, "Here It Goes Again"

And this song is catchy in its own post-punk knock-off Franz Ferdinand-y kind of way. But songs such as "The Writing's On The Wall"? Listen to it without watching the visually dazzling video that accompanies it:

To each her own, of course, but I'm not sure how well the music stands on its own.

OK Go's music videos raise all kinds of questions about the relationship between sound and image, between text and music: are these different art forms celebrating each other in these videos? Are they even related at all? Would OK Go be so commercially successful without their visually clever videos? Do these videos meet our definitions of Gesamtkunstwerk?

And maybe that last point is worth ruminating on a little bit. In spite of my obnoxious blog post title, and in spite of the praise they've garnered for their videos (they won the best music video Grammy in 2009 for "Here It Goes Again"), I'm not really sure if OK Go's music videos fit my definition of Gesamtskunstwerk in 2014. With the main pop songs I discussed earlier ("Thriller," "Single Ladies," etc.) we hear the song and summon up an image. But do the images and the songs have such a strong bond in OK Go's videos? At least for me they don't. It's hard to recall how some of their songs sound without being near my computer to google them.

Pop music videos are so much fun to think about because they encourage us to think about the various competing/reinforcing/mutually supportive/occasionally disruptive relationships between artistic media anew. The next time a pop music video explodes onto the scene and lights our world on fire (for approximately 15 minutes), I'll be asking myself WWWT (What Would Wagner Think) the first time I watch it.

Authenticity and Pop Music: the cases of Britney Spears and Sia

Kira's most recent post on Florida Georgia Line sought to delineate some of the factors that earn a group near-universal disdain, taking as her examples such disdainful groups as Nickelback and Creed.  Several of the factors that Kira identified as crucial to earning this level of disdainfulness fall under the category of authenticity, or lack thereof.  The idea that artists should be 'authentic' is tied larger concepts in Western culture about the imperative of originality for the genius--in other words, we value those who come up with innovative, new ideas, and we tend to see these genii as working independently, often in opposition to what is popular.  In this paradigm, genius artists also tend to skew male, which is not necessarily within the theory, but was at one point linked to gender: since men could not create life without the help of women, their creative tendencies were channeled elsewhere.  Hideously archaic?  Yes, but this paradigm continues to govern how we talk about 'good' and 'bad' music today.  The genius paradigm helps explain why the sell-out is so reviled and why the canon of art music so heavily favors men--even when discussing contemporary art music.

I bring these notions up because I want to talk today about two artists who break this paradigm, but are still subject to its strictures.  One is frequently viewed as a sell-out with limited artistic value, yet her career has reshaped the world of pop music.  The other is an anomaly within pop music, since she fits the concept of genius in some respects, but adheres to few of the expectations that we have of pop artists.  I am talking, of course, about Britney Spears and Sia respectively.  Both of these artists simultaneously meet and thwart our expectations of what a 'genius' can do, while demonstrating how complex our understanding of pop music can (and should) be.

Britney Spears

Go ahead, hate on Britney.  She doesn't write her own songs.  She doesn't sing her own songs in concert.  She relies on auto-tune for her albums.  She can't act (okay, this one may be fair).  She is nothing more than a Disney star transformed into sexy, sultry pop star--so basic.  And yet, I defy you to name another pop star working today who has had as many iconic moments as Brit Brit.  I plan to pepper this post with random ones.

What Britney can do--and can do better than almost anyone else in the biz--is perform.  And that is what she does best.  She can do so in lives shows, as seen above, and she is famous for having done so at award shows:

I saw a documentary once where it was revealed that actually, Brit Brit is afraid of snakes.

I saw this when it aired.  And I remember where I was.  It was Notable.

She is also justly famous for iconic video moments.  Many, many video moments:

These first three are all from the same freaking video

Of all the songs above, perhaps 'Circus' best sums up what Britney does best.  All eyes do fall on her in the center of the ring and we keep watching for what she will do.  The lyrics 'Don't just stand there watching me, follow me,' with their slight syncopation, make clear that not only are we 'gazing' at her, but that she relishes the attention.  Her songs are heavily produced to be successful, but I think the 'it' factor that has kept Britney relevant is precisely her:

I don't care how many 'handlers' Britney needed around her to make these moments happen.  The end result is that she was the one who delivered (to make a football analogy here, this is like saying that Tom Brady is a 'system quarterback,' which is all well and good, but he is still Tom Freaking Brady, and he still has more Superbowl rings than any other active QB and LEAVE TOM BRADY ALONE).  She is a consummate performer.  Note that I did not say 'singer,' because I don't think that she is necessarily a consummate singer; of pop stars working today, there are better examples on a technical level, such as Lady Gaga and Beyoncé.  However, detracting from her artistry for not creating her own material has always struck me as odd.  There is no question in my mind that the 'creative genius' paradigm is afoot whenever that happens.  To say that Britney is an inferior artist because she doesn't perform her own material is bizarre.  It's like saying that Meryl Streep is somehow a bad actress because she reads other people's words.

Repeatedly bringing such striking performances to life, that is a skill. And it is one at which Britney reigns supreme.

A reminder to choose what you make iconic carefully.

Sia

Readers of SGS, I have a confession to make: in late 2012, I pretty much stopped listening to pop music.  Shocking, I know.   My primary mode of consumption was the radio, but I started noticing more and more that what was on was just....well.....bad.  Everything sounded either like Rihanna's 'Birthday Cake' (NOT GOOD) or like Lil Wayne rambling over some slow jam.  Mostly, it was a morass of sameness, badness, and channel-change-inducing ennui.  Instead, I went to podcasts, and I pretty much never went back.  Yes, I felt very old when this happened.

However, there were a few exceptions (I will admit to Drake's 'The Motto' being one of them.  Don't hate.  Canadian solidarity, man).  And a few others that I didn't absolutely hate:

These songs are not completely terrible, unlike Rihanna's 'Birthday Cake'

Connoisseurs of pop music have already noticed the common denominator here.  All three songs are, in some way, the work of Sia: she wrote the lyrics to 'Diamonds; and she both performed the vocals for and wrote the lyrics to 'Wild Ones' and 'Titanium.'  Those who are not connoisseurs may be asking who exactly Sia is.  That is a great question.  It is extremely notable that she does not feature in either video for which she provides vocals, which is highly unusual for a 'pop' artist.  In the video, many people lip synch along with the chorus in 'Wild Ones,' making it unclear who the actual singer might be, but quite clear that it is none of the people lip synching (also, can I take a moment here and point out how unintentionally funny 'Girl With Arms Up In Bandeau' is?).  Perhaps she should be better viewed as one of those background singers, like Dido to Eminem in 'Stan' or Ke$sha to Flo Rida in 'Right Round.'  But that view misrepresents Sia's contribution: she is not only a singer, she is also a songwriter and has contributed to a number of hits (in fact, Sia's version of 'Titanium' was originally meant for Katy Perry).  Furthermore, it is a bit hard to say that she is the 'background' singer in 'Titanium,' even though the primary song credit goes to David Guetta, who is a DJ.

Sia now has her first credited major hit with 'Chandelier.'  Even in this video, though, she is wholly absent.  Instead, dancer Maddie Ziegler dances in a frenetic manner, likely representing the inner torment felt by the singer while she is 'swinging from the chandelier' and barely hanging on while partying:

If you haven't seen the SNL parody yet, take a moment and do that.  Also, there is something to be said here about performance, especially at the end when the fact that this is a performance becomes clear when Ziegler bows, but I'll leave that for you to ponder.

Sia conforms in many ways to the genius paradigm (and I will argue that because I think that 'Chandelier' is a genius way of representing the tension that often exists between those who party it up and their motivations...it's a broader metaphor).  She creates her own art.  She performs her own art.  Yet she is not, in my view, a pop star.  One of the most preeminent requirements in pop--as Britney teaches us--is creating notable performances.  Maddie Zielger does this in the 'Chandelier' video, but Sia remains absent. In fact, when she performed on Dancing with the Stars, Sia was 'hidden' in favor of the dancers:

What the cases of Sia and Britney demonstrate is that an understanding of pop music through the lens of the genius paradigm is inherently flawed (arguably, evaluating any type of work through the genius paradigm is flawed).  There are too many other factors that contribute to a notable and noteworthy pop experience, perhaps most importantly performance.  To subject these stars to the same critical tropes makes no sense.  Instead, we should recognize that pop depends on a wider scope of people for its success.  We are accustomed to the idea that the performer should be equated with the artist, but I am suggesting that Sia and Britney demonstrate to us that these roles can be divided.  Both make great art, but in very different ways.

Florida Georgia Line and the "Nickelback" Effect in American Music

There are a lot of bands or musical groups out there that have been accused of being talentless hacks. Their soulless music, people cry, preys on an ignorant musical public and drags us all just a little bit further down into the pits of hell. You know who they are:

Pussycat Dolls. 

One Direction. 

Limp Bizkit. 

Black Eyed Peas.

 Smash Mouth.

Have I made your blood boil yet? Are you getting so outraged by the mentioning of these groups that you want to flip a coffee table over and roar like a lion with rage? 

For some reason, these musical groups drive us crazy (and I'd love to hear from you as to why that is!). But as much as we hate these groups, there's one more band out there who inspires such vitriol that their name has now become synonymous with "inhumanity": Nickelback.

It seems like we can tolerate a Jessie J hit every once in a while and we're willing to put up with whatever Gwen Stefani's trying to do these days (dancehall?), but Nickelback, you say? NICKELBACK? ARE YOU EFFING KIDDING? It happens rarely, but every so often, once in a blue moon, a band comes along that inspires such deep hatred that it leaves American listeners breathless. Before it was Nickelback, I'm pretty certain Creed was the band that caused people to shred their garments, rip out their hair, and gnash their teeth.

Why is this? I'm not entirely sure. I can give you my theory but I'd like to crowdsource for some more. As my friend and music listener extraordinaire Rich put it, it seems like people choose a band to embody all of their anxieties about modern American music. The more the fans feel the need to protect their musical world, the more, I suspect, they're likely to have a meltdown over a musician who they think represents a debasement of their music's values. To the true believers, a band like Nickelback represents a slap in the face to rock music, to rock's contributions to American culture, and to rock music's fans. They represent the ultimate betrayal to the listener: they have made their music kitsch when it could have been transformative, they settled for cheap, quick, and dirty satisfaction instead of bringing us joy. They are the musical equivalent of the lowest common denominator.

What made me think about this recently is a band called Florida Georgia Line, which I think is attracting the same kind of vitriol that Nickelback faced/faces. In fact, I'm ready to argue that not since Nickelback has such a commercially successful group attracted such loathing and disgust from critics and listeners.

If you're not familiar with Florida Georgia Line, here are a few of their songs for you to listen to. Listen at your own risk:

"Cruise"

"This Is How We Roll"

Here's the thing. I don't think their music is amazing. But I'm not convinced it's the worst thing to have happened to humanity, either. Am I uncomfortable with the weird "we're not going to acknowledge that this is rapping but this is basically rapping" aspect to "This Is How We Roll"? Of course. Maybe I should blame Kid Rock for this, come to think of it. And are most of these songs sexist/misogynistic in some way? You betcha. But so are a lot of other songs and a lot of other bands.

Yet critics have been practically tripping over themselves to find the cleverest and most eloquent ways possible to express their outrage over this band's existence. Going back to my blog post about the aesthetics of hate, I think there's something fascinating about the relationship between beauty and hatred that draws us in again and again. In this case, I've noticed that the more beautifully written the review, the more eloquent its turns of phrases, the more venomous and deadly the attack against its enemy.

Check out this review from the blog site, Saving Country Music:
"In a word, this album is bullshit. Never before has such a refined collection of strident clichés been concentrated in one insidious mass. Never before have the lyrics to an album evidenced such narrowcasted pseudo-mindless incoherent drivel. Never before have such disparate and diseased influences been married so haphazardly in a profound vacuum of taste, and never have all of these atrocities been platooned together to be proffered to the public without someone, anyone with any bit of conscience and in a position of power putting a stop to this poisoning of the listening public."

And here's how my friend, Douglas, put it: "They have essentially taken every form of popular music from the past 25 years and vomited a parody-like interpretation of them all into one bag and tossed it at us." Ouch.

The Dallas Observer not only excoriated Florida Georgia Line but also, in a virtually biblical sense, condemned its fans to hell for all eternity as well: "I approached Saturday night's show with an open mind, but one glance at the insanely packed parking lot and I realized maybe the stereotype of the modern country music fan (privileged, a little slow, boisterous and in love with terrible music and terrible beer) was completely dead on." At the concert, chaos reigns, the concert attendees are degenerates, and much like the biblical character Noah, the critic has to extricate himself out of this debauched land of sin and vice to save himself. The few, the brave, the musically literate, he warns: get on the boat and leave this terrible place, never to return!

Does Florida Georgia Line deserve such scorn? Such delightful, witty, acerbic scorn? Do they deserve to be held up as an example of humanity's downfall more so than any other country-pop band? I'm not sure. But watching the storm build up against them has been a fascinating experience, akin to documenting the formation of a trashy country-pop tornado fueled by Bud Light, $1 dollar tequila shots, and Axe body spray.

I honestly can't decide what to make of the band quite yet. But in the meantime, I'd like to suggest that we create our own warning system (complete with color coding?) to alert us all when a band is reaching near Nickelback levels of unpopularity. Again: I think such occurrences are actually quite rare. But nonetheless, they're worthy of study.

What would such a warning system look like? I have a couple of suggestions:

1. The ratio between commercial success and critics' dislike has to be just right. Because it's the bands who sell records in spite of critics' decries that seem to garner the most denunciations.
2. The more the band relies on musical editing and post-production fiddling (I'm looking at you, Black Eyed Peas), the more listeners are going to attack the group for its inauthenticity. I wonder if one of the reasons why people dislike Florida-Georgia Line so much is because of how auto-tuned the vocal arrangements sound.
3. The text, of course, has to be heavily weighed down by cliches and barely passable rhymes.

4. The members of the band have to strike us as insincere. They must appear as if they're in on this joke that producers came up with to hoodwink us and take our money.

I doubt I'll be listening to "This Is How We Roll" on the radio anytime soon. But I'll definitely be reading the song's reviews.