Music and Meaning

Contending with the questionable behavior of your favorite artists

Why do you listen to music?

For me, there are a few different levels on which I can answer this question. Very superficially, the answer makes the question look dumb: I listen because music is nice. What more is there to say, really?

But the more I try to give in answer to this question, the more about myself is revealed. Going a little deeper, it’s easy to see that I listen to music to feel something. But what? A connection, I think. But to what or with whom?

It isn’t a connection to artists and the stories behind their music that I usually search for when I hit play on a track. Sure, there are some incredible stories behind songs I love - like “Rooster” by Alice in Chains, a song written about the band’s guitarist’s father, Jerry “Rooster” Cantrell Sr., who prevailed through a tour in Vietnam. Rooster had earned his nickname in childhood because of his “cocky” attitude and his unruly hair, which stood up on his head like a rooster’s comb, and I can practically see him when I listen to this song - a cocksure youth turned Soldier in the jungle, crowing to his enemies who have “come to snuff the Rooster” that he just “ain’t gonna die.” But time is too limited to know the story behind every song I listen to. The connection to the storytelling musician, or the story itself, often comes after I have heard the music. By then I've already felt something - be it a closeness to others listening along with me or something completely internal - while taking any natural connection to the musician for granted. So origin stories, which are sometimes not even that interesting if they can be known at all, are far from the only way to feel connected to something through music.

I’ve asked myself what the song “Rooster" does for me, exactly. It isn’t difficult to feel for Rooster as I listen to his story told through the powerful medium of music, but I feel something else entirely, too.

To explain what this something is, I need to risk a little cringe.

Pretend I’m saying this next thing as fast as possible…

I listen to this song and I feel the Rooster within myself.

There. I said it.

And it’s true, if not a just a slight embarrassing to admit. After all, I’m not exactly a cocky Vet hardened by the horrors of war. I’m not even a man. I don’t even want to be a man, lol. Rooster is a Rucker in a totally different league! Why should I relate to Rooster? But there’s no denying that when this song is on, I feel the part of me that can rise to the occasion of hardship and come out the other side alright. I want to feed that part of me as much as possible, and music is often the perfect source of food for this endeavor. Battles are a part of everyone's existence. It may seem that there is no way to know with certainty that we will overcome our enemies - everything from cancer to globohomo - but is there really any other way to approach a fight with them than with the utter confidence that they will not best us today? In a sense, this is the only sure way to die victorious: keep this mindset even to the moment of death and you’ll always leave this earth having won the battle for your heart. Point is, I listen to this song, and I remember to believe that the battles I’m fighting won’t overwhelm me - try as they might to snuff the very spirit of me from my body.

Of course, I could be wrong. But we do ourselves no favors giving into despair. On the other hand, getting pumped up is not only fun, it primes us to act purposefully.

Maybe it sounds a little silly that as my music plays I indulge the feeling that I am the avatar for the cosmic essence of whatever power my situation calls for - especially since my daily tasks look quite uninteresting as such things go. But spend, as I have, any amount of time trying to be cool in a world of so much mainstream putrescence and you’ll quickly realize how important the ability to motivate yourself really is.

I can think of so many examples of songs that make me feel a heightened sense of myself, of what I aspire to be. When I choose to listen to a song, it is often because I want to amplify a mood. Whether it be something I’m already feeling or something elusive, something barely within my grasp that I want to bring into sharper focus for the occasion, I listen because I want to draw on a part of myself that is needed for the task at hand. Even if that “task” is simply chilling out, music can help. Even if I’m trying to figure out what my next task is, music can help.

Music does enhance connections with others - it’s an integral part of weddings and funerals for a reason! - but my experience is that music puts me in better touch with myself, too. As I listen, the background chatter of my preoccupied mind pipes down and my primal, uninhibited love of rhythm and melody dances with the ever-present yet intangible understanding of what's important to me fundamentally. This dance is the antithesis of internal rambling. It is coherence - the simultaneous awareness of various parts of my existence held above the scattered obstacles of the mundane in a harmonious balance that renews my perspective on myself, others, and the world.

Good music shuts out the noise as it lets the sound in.

Of course, this only happens thanks to the musicians that found that beautifully haunting melody - as in Giacomo Puccini's “Un bel dì, vedremo” - or that arrangement of words so inexplicably and eerily relatable - as in “Where is My Mind" by The Pixies. By virtue of this, we are all connected to the works of these artists whether or not we have knowledge of their personal lives or the origin stories of their music. They communicate to us the foundation upon which we build a subjective experience dependent entirely on our own tastes. How versatile is the framework, how much any given person can build upon it is the measure of how good the music is. And the more good music a band writes, or the more a lone hit song of theirs manages to cut through the mere noise of our lives, and the more all of this weathers the test of time, the more of our respect we give to the names behind the music. Even the composer of music whose name is unknown to us is given our quiet thanks the moment we appreciate their work, and we praise others with delighted surprise whenever we learn that “that song” was written by “that guy.” Why else would musicians be idolized throughout history if not partly because they have given to us a part of their own experience which, in turn, becomes our own the moment we associate it with a personal record, the mourning of a loved one, home, unrequited love, a first kiss?

And so it doesn’t come with any surprise that the band Five Times August is a little more than annoyed with the musicians they once adored. They have written a song - a good song and a good story - lamenting how so many of the musicians whose “fuck the man” bearing they once looked up to have sold out in the wake of the social and political pressures so painfully characteristic of the early 2020’s.

I hope you will take a break from this post to listen to this song and then return.

Feeling something yet? The superimposition of the artist’s perspective against your own brought into focus by the tone of the song?

That sinking feeling that the sellouts named by Five Times August have diminished the positive associations that once existed between their fans and the spirit of their music by failing to live by this spirit themselves?

Nobody likes a hypocrite.

I’ve grappled with the same feeling in recent years. Just as I have felt hollowed out by the aggression against Tolkien’s powerful myths, I have wondered how songs like “Killing in the Name of” could ever hit the same way again ever since Rage Against the Machine (RATM) is rumored to have supported vaccine mandates for entry into the venues they played. RATM guitarist Tom Morello has given a recent interview in which he argues with the memories of fans and claims that RATM never imposed a vaccine mandate for their concertgoers.

This has fans a little more than annoyed.

Whatever the “FaCts” are, a very good case can be made that RATM behaved more like puppets for the machine than the anti-establishment rebels their fans believed them to be. Where were these guys when they had the chance to say “Fuck you, I won’t do what you tell me!” to big pharma and all concert venue overlords mandating deadly shawts? Where were they when they had their chance to say, “Wake up!” or “We’ve gotta take the power back"!” to their fans?

And here’s arguably the saddest repercussion of all in a nutshell…

Indeed.

I put their music away for a long time, too.

I actually tried to listen to a few songs by Stray From the Path as this Redditer suggested. Unfortunately, their music was missing those elements I connect to the most: that suspenseful melodic dissonance, that shaky bridge that builds anticipation with every beat as it leads to a chorus that’s somehow familiar even if the song is new, that gut-wrenching punch from the lyrics, that unforgettable hook, that spatial free fall before the reorientation and plummet back to Earth, that impossibly sexy manly tenor, that womanly soprano of perfect velvet.

Their music just didn’t quite grab me. So I looked them up on Wikipedia figuring maybe I’d learn something fascinating about them that would make their music seem a little more badass - the inverse of my experience with RATM. If a band’s asininity could sour me to their music, could another band’s good sense make me swoon for their sound?

I read with bated breath starting here…

Link...

I mean…

At this point I’d given them a score of about one out of five flaming electric guitars.

I read on…

Really? Williams didn’t like it when Trump called Stormy Daniels a “horseface”? I thought that was pretty funny…where's his sense of humor?

But whatever, I kept their score unchanged and read a little more…

::sigh::

Bernie Sanders? The socialist?

Okay, so Williams seems to have “shown support” for Sanders in 2016, but then in 2017 decides voting is…bad, m’kay. I understand that sentiment for all it’s faults - the position that you’re better off not participating in a system you believe is illegitimate. On the other hand…Bernie Sanders? Who knows, maybe 2016-2017 just marked a hell of a growth spurt for Williams.

Somehow these guys just aren’t coming across as definitive badasses.

Zero out of five flaming electric guitars.

I put the article away. It didn’t do anything to make me like their music any more or less than I had upon first hearing it. By all means, check them out for yourself.

There’s probably dozens of artists whose politics or personal choices I unknowingly disagree with yet whose music, like RATM’s, is still straight fire. I didn’t know until around the time I started writing this that The Offspring kicked their former drummer Pete Parada out of their band for being unvaccinated. Or that, long before that, Steven Tyler of Aerosmith said this…

Link…

Tyler’s really not showing himself to be the vision of virtue itself here, is he? But “Dream On”? Great song - four out of five flaming electric guitars! Maybe the difference is that Steven Tyler was never out here screaming “fuck the man,” or whatever before selling out to the man, but it still doesn’t ameliorate my distaste for his sexual relationship with a teenager over whom he held legal guardianship. Maybe he’s not as obvious a hypocrite, but there’s probably no shortage of yucky things about him that would make his music feel lackluster if I fixated on them.

As I’ve perused the internet throughout this little thought experiment, I’ve learned that one of the most “anti-tyranny” songs by Muse, “Compliance,” is one of my least favorite songs of theirs. Same with Five Finger Death Punch and “Living the Dream.” I love the message of “Rich Men North of Richmond,” but I don’t live primarily in that genre of music, nor do I know everything about Oliver Anthony, though he seems like a chill enough sort. I’m sure to listen to a few Elvis Presley and Frank Sinatra hits over the holidays, but I won’t be giving any thought to how much adultery they might have been committing right at the very same time they were hitting the high notes of their love songs in the recording studio.

And who knows about the lives of the many classical artists I love. From what I do know of some of their lives, it would be easy to find reasons to hate their works based on their personal shortcomings, too.

On and on and on…

Here’s the main takeaway from that little experiment: there’s no shortage of people not in perfect alignment with my views, musicians are no exception, and how good any musician is at making my face melt is not a function of how similar their worldly views are to mine or how similar to me they are as people.

And it seems a bit of a strange branch on which to hang one’s love of music on, no? “This band better have it right politically or I simply cannot like their songs.” To be clear, I’m not accusing Five Times August of this mentality - they’re doing what all artists do by using their medium to convey a feeling. I’ll be listening to their music when I’m in more contemplative moods. But in one comments section after another I’ve found enough resentment to make it clear that so much good music is falling on the ears of fans who are misdirecting their distaste for sellout musicians by pinning it on the music itself.

Even Republicans stream music

As you might hope to avoid supporting them, good luck keeping track of absolutely every questionable band member and agent behind every song you like and stream. It’s a little like trying to avoid buying things manufactured in China. Does it make a significant difference if you purchase something that’s “Assembled in the U.S.A. … from component parts manufactured in China?” Can you afford to exclusively purchase items manufactured completely in the US? A country, by the way, who is to blame for the costly price tags often associated with its domestic products thus brining on questions about what it is you’re supporting through such purchases.

I have no problem with “go woke, go broke,” but who all is woke or otherwise reprehensible?

Sure, we do what we can to send a message in response to overt violations of the Ultimatum Game. In the name of punishing the purveyor of woke ideology by any other name, we forego the non-zero yet still too-low offer of convenience and brand recognition in response to culturally subversive ads and merchandise. We boycott Budlight, don’t buy clothes from stores that sell “tuck friendly” underwear to little boys, and would not purchase tickets to the next Pfizer rep Lady Gaga concert. But how much do we really know about the things we buy? Or about the undoubtedly extensive stock portfolio of Lady Gaga and other creatures like her that are sure to have their tendrils in practically every business under the sun? Comparatively, how much does it matter to the musician who makes roughly three cents for every thousand streams if we chose to punish their perceived unfairness by not streaming their music? How much would we pay someone to make us feel the way their music can? A penny for every few dozen sessions seems like a reasonably fair deal: no matter how much of a tool the musician is, if their music still manages to have its intended effect on us, we get more out of that particular deal than they do.

How sure are we that our precious time and energy is best spent combing through all the fine details of who will or will not ultimately profit from our most minor purchases? How much does obsessing over this help you hone your strengths vs. spin your wheels?

And is music all about politics, or is it a product that can be enjoyed à la carte?

As Michael Jordan once said, “Even Republicans buy sneakers.”

Who really owns music?

If I can relate to “Rooster” and “Phantom Limb” knowing nothing about the politics or personal lives of Alice in Chains, what does this say about the extent to which such information matters?

In fact, my way out of the maze of the same disappointment in music’s greatest sellouts so nicely expressed by “Ain’t No Rock and Roll,” came to me, quite aptly, from an artist I suspect I disagree with on plenty…

I wish I had a video clip to share with you. But as if by some mysterious work of providence not meant to be experienced twice so as to preserve its magical effects on my outlook, the interview I’m about to paraphrase is lost to the endless catacombs of the internet where I first discovered it.

In an interview with one of those Hollywood red carpet reporter types, Taylor Swift was asked something to the effect of “Who/what are your songs about?” Swift, who has referenced her “long list of ex-lovers” in one of her hit songs “Blank Space”, is known to draw from her experiences in the romance department for song-writing inspiration. Her fans often speculate as to the romantic situation behind each of her songs, and reporters dig for this information and the status that would come from eliciting such a juicy revelation.

In response, Swift basically said that the songs she writes are not hers anymore. She gestured to the nearby crowd and said that these songs belong to all of us - they are the songs of her fans as much as they are hers. If she were to elaborate on who or what specifically inspired these songs, she would devalue the meaning they have in the hearts of her listeners.

Keep in mind that while Swift undoubtedly dodges the question here, that’s probably a good thing. Who she has loved in her life is none of our business and she’s doing herself and us a service by keeping some things private.

And there it is. Putting licensing, IP, and origin aside, music takes on whatever meaning we give to it and in this way, it becomes ours. I don’t think we should give up the spirit of what is ours so easily. Positive associations form, and so do negative associations. We have a choice over which to fixate on.

What do you expect, an atomic bomb?

We all need a reminder of who we are from time to time. Keeping the spirit of the music we love alive in our hearts creates an echo that sometimes finds its way back to the musicians who have lost touch with the spirit of their own sound. Take RATM, for example. Years after their rumored concert vaccine mandate, RATM’s guitarist Tom Morello responded to the controversy with, "There's a lot of ridiculous people who disapprove of Rage's political outlook, who were not at the shows, who… just to be clear, no fans at any show in the history of Rage Against the Machine have ever had a vaccination requirement to be in the room. Ever.” I mentioned earlier that some fans think he is lying, but why does Morello care about addressing this at all? Is it because of the backlash RATM faced from fans? Is he just another milquetoast pussy now responding to the increasingly coordinated and popular stance that the lockdowns and vaccine mandates were always bullshit? Is he remembering something from his more rebellious years?

In a sort of rock and roll time paradox, did the lyrics, “Fuck you, I won’t do what you tell me!” prepare fans to reject 2020s RATM back in the 1990s - and is this paradox causing Morello some cognitive dissonance now???

Hard to say. Either way, I may as well be charitable and assume he’s learned something if it can’t be said that he is definitely being sincere and that RATM never mandated vaccines for their concerts. That’s a hard thing to be sour at - many people thought, said, and did things they now regret and are beginning to atone for. It’s not going to be a fast or complete process for all. That’s par for the psychological warfare that came crashing uninvited into our lives. And if Morello really does mean it and Rage was always true to the spirit of their music, great.

But it doesn’t really matter…

There are a few discordant notes when it comes to RATM member’s politics and my own, that’s always been true. But, as T-Swift pointed out, although the politics, experiences, and histories of songwriters will never be exactly my own, the heart of their music is mine - and it is yours, too.

Musicians, like everyone, are imperfect, obviously. I’ve never totally understood how fame in one area is supposed to qualify someone to be a representative or advocate or moral role model all across the social and political spectrums. Just because Simone Biles made the choice to not participate in several events during the Tokyo Olympics doesn’t mean her choice represents the cremé de la cremé of a competitor's mindset worthy of widespread emulation. For proof of this, I submit my assumption that Kerri Strug doesn’t regret her decision to put safety last and all the glory that ensued from her epic Olympic vault in 1996. And the same logic applies to musicians. Just because a band looks and sounds sexy doesn’t mean its members are the flawless embodiments of the spirit of the genre they compose, only that they tapped into the energy of this in a way that resonates. That’s impressive enough - do we really expect them to build atomic bombs, too?

link…

So many musicians are sellouts and that’s disappointing not only because the more we know this about them, the more their fantastical image and their message suffers, but also because we don’t want to feel conflicted supporting their music. Considering this, it feels good to remember that these sellouts are counterbalanced by those musicians who shed light on their hypocrisy. Five Times August is far from alone in this endeavor. Here are just a few more examples if you really can’t listen to the music of sellouts anymore…

“If there are any venues — I’m not aware of any — they’re gonna be gone by the time we get to your city,” … “If they’re not, you don’t have to worry, you’ll be getting your money back — because I won’t be showing up either! If you think I’m going to sit out there and sing, ‘Don’t Tell Me How to Live’ and ‘We the People,’ while people are holding up their fucking vaccine cards and wearing masks — that shit ain’t happening.”

- Kid Rock

“I turned down a movie because I didn’t want to get the motherfucking jab. I turned down $9 million. I didn’t want [to] get the jab. Fuck that jab. Fuck ya’ll for trying to make me get it. I don’t know how Hollywood feels about me right now.”

- Ice Cube

"…so I am confident I'd be able to handle it [covid] again” … "But I'm not so certain I'd survive another post-vaccination round of Guillain-Barré syndrome."

-Pete Parada (formerly of The Offspring)

“So, a lot [of] the bands, they just don’t know what to do … You’re in an entertainment industry that’s largely driven by social media and media at large. You’re not allowed to speak anything against… I mean, you’ve got Rage Against the Machine telling people that if they don’t get a vaccine… Rage Against the Machine has become the machine,” … “It’s crazy. I’m, like, wait a minute — I’m the revolutionary here? I’m the revolutionary and Rage Against the Machine is just ‘government rock’ now.”

-John Cooper (Skillet)

"I suggest to all my followers, you guys, set an appointment and get the vaccine first thing — PSYCH! Bitch, if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. I never had COVID. You ain’t sticking me with that motherfucking needle. It’s the motherfucking flu."

-Chet Hanks

“About six weeks later I was offered and took the second AZ shot, but with a little more knowledge of the dangers. Needless to say the reactions were disastrous, my hands and feet were either frozen, numb or burning, and pretty much useless for two weeks, I feared I would never play again, (I suffer with peripheral neuropathy and should never have gone near the needle.) But the propaganda said the vaccine was safe for everyone…”

-Eric Clapton

While I find these positions endearing, it’s important to keep in mind that these folks aren’t infallible either. Just because they got it right on bodily autonomy during covid doesn’t mean they’re perfectly aligned with truth and reason across the board - probably no one is, try as some of us might.

That doesn’t mean we cannot continue to admire and support their music if we’re so inclined. Same goes for the sellouts. Maybe we draw the line at making more impactful purchases, such as concert tickets to the shows of blatant government shills like Lady Gaga…

Link

… and Olivia Rodrigo…

Nice sunglasses, asshole

But are we fools for listening to their catchy music if it gets us off the couch and through a ruck? I’m not saying there are no alternatives to the music of artists who, unwittingly or not, have become minions for globohomo. There are. But music and the connections we make with it being the phenomenon that it is, sometimes we just get a hankering for a particular song. Sometimes that song is sung by someone who isn’t as cool as we might’ve hoped…

But the song isn’t theirs exclusively.

I like to think that the substance of good art is something that exists in the atmosphere where it awaits the person who will just so happen to be in precisely the right place and time to discover it and give it a vessel through which it can travel into the awareness of those not called to that particular discovery. That isn’t meant to diminish the brilliance of artists, but rather to put an emphasis on the idea that what they bring to the surface was already there - an insight waiting to be articulated, a kernel of the human condition previously felt by millions but shared more readily in its artistic form.

The power of music is in how it animates you when you hear it, not the intentions behind its creation or the wayward actions of the musicians who, decades after writing it, put their embarrassing attitudes on display. Attitudes that you might never have known about if not for all the virtue signaling motivated by the propaganda surrounding lockdowns, etc.. Attitudes that are more common among some of your favorite artists than you might like to think. Attitudes that are subject to change.

And if you do choose to fixate on this and become brokenhearted, consider doing as the old saying suggests: take your broken heart and make art.

Outro

The good music of the sellouts we’re still a little bitter about is ours after a much more important fashion than licensing. And the artists who gave it to us merely sewed the seeds of the destruction of the system they shill for when they wrote that driving bass line. Ultimately, music is a tool we can use for our own advantage - to motivate us to hone our skillsets, connect with others, and understand ourselves better. If you restrict yourself to music written by people whose politics you are in total alignment with you are fighting your own battles with a blunt sword.

So if “Killing in the Name of” is playing when the last authoritarian politician is strangled with the entrails of the last socialist activist…

Rock on.

Thanks for rucking with me. Please enjoy the music as you exit.