Andrew Bearden

MUS 652

4/2/18

ESSAY #9

The reason we are here today discussing the merits of popular music is due in large

part to the critical discussion of jazz critics in the late 1950s and early 1960s. Prior to

these publications, popular music, rock n’ roll, and musical theatre were treated by the

press as a celebration of accomplishments and individual personalities rather than a

critical look at the aesthetic qualities of the music that made an artist successful. The

key reason for this shift was by treating a performance (i.e. recording) as the equivalent

of a composition.

While critical analysis shifted towards legitimizing popular music, youth culture shifted

away from adults in a widening generational gap. Tracing the roots of this gap,

Crawford outlines the youth culture of the 20s and 30s as collectively rallying for upward

mobility; any subversion appears as trivial ‘slumming’ and collegiate hijinks. 40s youth

culture embraced Sinatra, seeing his showmanship as a recognition and legitimization

of the feelings of his ‘bobby-sox’ demographic of 12- to 16-year-old girls. But in the

1950s the gap widened as the angst associated with post-war teens reached an all time

high; their confusion, lack of role modes, and sexual desires manifested themselves in

music and popular culture. Television and movies further established this youth culture,

and the time was ripe for rock n’ roll to come on the scene.
 One facet that interested me, which I knew nothing about, was the creation of BMI as

the major competitor of the would-be monopoly on publishing, ASCAP. The differences

between the two organizations appeared to be very distinct at first: ASCAP prided itself

on the high-art, composed music while BMI went for the lesser-know or appreciated

styles of country, R&B, and blues. BMI seemed to value the performers over the

composers, as theirs was music that would be performed and then written down (or

maybe not) later on. I was also interested and further disillusioned by observing the

shaping of the popular music sphere almost completely by consumerism, advertising,

and marketing. The power that deejays had over deciding what music received airtime

was staggering, and I wonder who might have been popular instead of who became

popular. Would artists like Elvis still rise to the top if the market were controlled

completely by the tastes of the listeners? Would that have even been possible? Is that

possible today? These are the questions that keep me up at night.

Elvis was a symbol of what white culture was able to successfully accomplish time and

again in American music history: appropriating and repackaging black music. We’ve

seen it happen as recently as Paul Whiteman and George Gershwin and as far back as

Civil War spirituals or even the earliest sheet music based on Native American chant.

Like Irving Berlin calling ragtime ‘syncopated music’ in the 1910s, Alan Freed and his

contemporaries substituted the term ‘rhythm and blues’ for ‘rock and roll’. This

seemingly innocuous substitution carried large implications, as it distanced the style of

music from its original creators: black Americans.

Lest we dismiss Elvis and the creation of rock and roll as evil, corporate usurpers of

black music, we should also discuss the positive social impact the music made as a
blurring of racial lines. With segregation laws and racism abounding in the south, the

music crossed boundaries that people were not physically ready to cross yet. The

overlapping of chart success in R&B, Pop, and Country vis-à-vis Elvis helped white

audiences to understand, as Crawford puts it, black sensibility. While listening to rock

and roll did not make a white teenager a champion of civil rights, it was a social changer

that contributed to the slow progress towards civil rights. While I am still on the topic of

Elvis, it is also important to note that his success in the studio and, by extension, the

stage, was due in large part to the performative image that he portrayed, which came

out of a ‘clowning around’ session in the Sun studios with That’s All Right.

There was another style of music coming out of the South, which to me was the most

interesting to read about. For the past twenty or so years I have observed a disconnect

between urban/suburban youth and anything resembling country music. While one

could also make an argument that country music has lost its sound in favor of a more

pop-oriented sound with a drawl, I have observed a rejection of this style by every

student except the white, conservative, gun-toting few who walk through my doors. This

is obviously a reaction to the racist implications of white Southerners as well as the

country fan base, which is true in part but also misses a whole part of the story. To

ignore country music is to ignore a huge portion of not only the recording industry but

the heritage of American music.

Within the country umbrella, I found it fascinating to see the bluegrass musicians take

a different approach, preserving Appalachian folk traditions by creating modern

representations designed for the concert stage, or concert barn if you will. These

apparent renegades were shirking the country music tropes and aligning closer with
jazz musicians for their lack of conformity, raw style, improvisational spirit, and technical

virtuosity. Not wanting to appear critical of country, I do find it interesting that the lyrical

content of the genre dealt with real-life issues such as marital problems, alcoholism, and

death, just to name a few. We make fun of songs about trucks and dogs dying, but this

music was appealing because it related to the common man. This is a form of verismo

in popular music that is no different in purpose than the shift in opera from lofty stories

about gods to stories about the struggle of the average person with relationships and

poverty.

Finally, it is fascinating to note that the term ‘bluegrass’ and Scruggs’s style of

fingerpicking were innovations of the 40s and 50s, even though they were perceived as

ancient folk music. This notion would lead the folk revivalists to include these elements

into their new spin on an old style, including subversive lyrics akin to Woodie Guthrie

and his labor songs. Whether Scruggs and Monroe did this intentionally or not, through

recording and marketing they became the authority on what Appalachian folk music

‘should’ sound like, sending their ripples of influence through the generations to follow.