Now the knives are really
coming out…

Ever since the MTV Video Music Awards,
all people are talking about is how Johnny Cash got “screwed”.
Now that he’s gone, the voices are growing louder, out of
some sense that the VMA voters would have somehow known that
Cash would pass away shortly after the awards were handed
out.

I’m not joining that chorus, mostly because
of the line of reason. “He got screwed” automatically presupposes
“He got nominated for the video for ‘Hurt’”. That presupposes
the statement “Johnny Cash covered a Trent Reznor song.” I
can’t get past the question that leads to that statement:
“What in the name of God’s green earth is Johnny Cash doing
covering a Trent Reznor song?”

It shouldn’t surprise me that he did.
After all, Johnny Cash was a Presence in music for nearly
a half-century. He was respected and loved by fans and practitioners
of every genre of music, including jazz and punk. This is
a man who will forever be identified with the cognomen “Man
In Black” despite the late Dale Earnhardt’s and Will Smith’s
efforts to coopt the title. It’s only natural that the influence
that he carried would in some respect go the other way. But
this isn’t a case of, say, Garth Brooks covering Billy Joel
(they’re both Pop artists at heart). This is one of the greatest
country artists of all time and a man explicitly identified
with the genre covering a song by a man explicitly identified
with industrial, a genre so divergent from country that you
have to look for common ground between them very thoroughly.

The fact that I can’t figure out why
“Hurt” exists is a very big reason why I’m not Pop.

When Biscuiti asked me to do a column
for moodspins, I straight out asked him why he wanted
me to contribute to a site that concentrated on All Things
Pop. He knew from our discussions about Pearl Jam that I am
totally disconnected from any type of Pop scene these days
(with the possible exception of file-sharing, which is thoroughly
Pop in a techno-geek sense and of which I’m considered a grey-beard
and Honored Elder by the younger crowd). When “Teen Spirit”
went Top Ten, I had already read the press about the Seattle
movement, listened carefully, said to myself “Heard it all
before back in the late 70s”, and clicked my mind off, hoping
that the Next Big Thing might be a little more amenable. That
day never came.

(And in retrospect, I think I made the
right decision. I’ve only found merit in three songs from
that entire genre: “Teen Spirit”, “Evenflow”, and “Black Hole
Sun”. The later “inspired by”s haven’t been really inspired.
But for a lot of people reading this, that music is the Music
Of Your Youth, and you’ll love it for the rest of your life
much as I love punk and New Wave. So don’t be offended; it’s
just a matter of age.)

I’ll sometimes come across what I think
is a cool, classic Pop song while flitting across the radio
dial, and end up downloading it. But it’s rare that it happens
(I think the last two were Quarashi’s “Mister Jinx” and Train’s
“Drops of Jupiter”), and as for investigating more works by
that artist…it just doesn’t happen. I don’t have the desire
to do it anymore.

I’ve been disconnected from Pop for a
dozen years now, to the extent that I don’t watch network
television except for Enterprise and Smackdown, and those
barely qualify as being on a network. Biscuiti thought that’d
be a great hook for a column. And now that Johnny Cash is
gone, it’s an even better hook.

How disconnected am I from Pop? When
the photos of the VMA Incident came out, I had to ask myself
“Who are those women kissing Madonna?” I didn’t know Britney
Spears and Christina Aguilera by sight. Two of the best-selling,
most visible artists of the last five years were completely
unknown to me. I cut myself off from them for good reasons,
though: saturation airplay of “Hit Me Baby One More Time”
and participation in the butchery of “Lady Marmalade”, respectively.
But the fact that I actually had to look at a caption to see
who the hell these women were…and it gets worse. Earlier
this week, I was driving back from a job interview in Indiana.
I normally listen to oldies stations when I’m in the Damn
Vaninator (gee, what a surprise). Out of the radio on one
of those stations came “Stand Back” by Stevie Nicks. “Stand
Back”, on an oldies station?! This was the first time I’d
heard a song on an oldies station that was a hit when I was
in college. I’d just got used to the concept of listening
to songs on those stations that were hits when I was in high
school. As I cranked the volume, I could feel what little
testosterone my body had flowing through it dissolve. I could
feel my hair losing its pigmentation and osteoporosis set
in. I’m only 38. Things like this aren’t supposed to happen
to me yet.

I kept saying that I could write off
this disconnection with Pop due to age and age only. But not
in a world where Johnny Cash covered “Hurt”. I can’t justify
age alone being an excuse when that exists.

Why? That’s what I keep asking myself.
Why can’t I make the effort to buy new stuff? Why did I listen
to Matchbox 20 only when Jeremy Botter twisted my arm about
them? Why had I only heard of Michelle Branch when she teamed
up with Carlos Santana? Why didn’t I listen to any Eminem
until he did that duet on “Stan” with Elton John at the 2001
Grammys (and thereby validated his existence to me, not to
mention get Mistah Mathers off the hook for those anti-gay
statements)? I mean, this guy’s got the spirit of John Lydon
flowing in him (although Lydon would deny it). He’d be an
artist that I’d naturally gravitate to. Why didn’t he appear
on my radar screen like NWA did back in 1990? And for that
matter, why haven’t I bought a hip-hop album since Straight
Outta Compton? I mean, I’m not that white, am I?

Why is Rio a classic album in my mind
and The Chronic isn’t? Why would I crawl through a minefield
to save a copy of London Calling but let a copy of Ten blow
up? Why are Sid Vicious and Darby Crash icons who were taken
away from us before their time and Kurt Cobain and Andrew
Wood merely junkies who needed a good shrink?

Why can’t I pick up new or newer material
by artists that I loved in their time? Why do I still love
the Pixies to death, but I’ve never listened to Frank Black
or the Breeders? Why do I still throw on Let It Be or Tim
without thinking, yet can’t bring myself to pick up any Paul
Westerburg solo material? Why haven’t I bought anything by
Sonic Youth since The Whitey Album? Why did U2 matter up until
Achtung Baby but stopped mattering after that? Why do I crank
the radio when “Sweet Dreams” comes on, but I didn’t pick
up Annie Lennox’s last solo album when it came out last year?
Why is Sting the guy who sang “Roxanne” and “Can’t Stand Losing
You” and not the guy who sang “Desert Rose”? Why is Ozzy Osbourne
a music star and not a TV star? Why are Will Smith, Queen
Latifah, and Ice Cube hip-hop artists and not movie actors?
Why is Michael Jackson the guy who catalyzed the greatest
year in the history of Pop Music, 1983, and not the guy who
dangles babies out of a window?

Why do I prefer listening to those oldies
stations and “rediscovering” artists that I was too young
to appreciate in their time instead of listening to “new music”
stations? Why is it that finding out how great Jay and the
Americans, The Association, and Classics IV were back in the
60s excites me, but I haven’t heard anything on the Hot 100
unless it’s by an artist that was popular no later than the
early 90s? And why am I pissed off that none of you are doing
the same thing? Jesus, listen to “Cherish” or “Spooky” sometime
and enjoy it. Have a listen to “Come A Little Bit Closer”
and laugh your ass off. It won’t hurt.

And why do I have to justify myself by
making statements like that?

A lot of people reading this know how
much I love cartoons. So why is it that I haven’t seen an
episode of The Simpsons in almost a decade? Why have I never
seen an episode of Futurama? Why did I not like The Family
Guy, a series that explicitly was designed to appeal to the
bitter and cynical? The three best single cartoons to come
out of the former Hanna-Barbera Studios in the last ten years
have been The Powerpuff Girls’s “Meet the Beat-Alls”, Dexter’s
Laboratory’s “Mock 5″, and Johnny Bravo’ “Bravo Dooby Doo”,
three cartoons that explicity reference pop culture icons
of the 60s and 70s (the Beatles, Speed Racer, and Scooby Doo,
respectively). Again, my rose-colored vision expressly looks
toward the past and is blinded to the present.

Why does it make total sense to me that
Nicholas Cage’s character in Matchstick Men is a vinyl freak
who loves Frank Sinatra and doesn’t own a TV? The character
is around my age, probably a little bit older, but he looks
toward the past too. Sinatra is the perfect artist for that
character to love. The Chairman of the Board always denied
the Pop Culture of the present as well. He totally dismissed
the Beatles and would only cover one of their songs, “Something”
(very telling that it was a George Harrison track and not
a Lennon/McCartney one). Yet Frank will live forever. He had
the same sort of influence that Johnny Cash had.

(That being said, I don’t know who to
blame for Cage’s over-the-top portrayal of anxiety disorder
and OCD, him or Ridley Scott. As a member of the Mentally
Ill Community who does suffer from anxiety disorder, I’m really
pissed about that. And to have him be able to be “cured” by
feminine dietary supplements…no, it’s the scriptwriters
who die first.)

In summary, why do I dismiss the Pop
Culture of the present as having no purpose in my life, yet
allow the Pop Culture of the past to take root in me? Yet
if it is worthless, why did Elton John hook up with Eminem?
Why did Carlos Santana allow Rob Thomas and Michelle Branch
to sing over his masterful guitar work? Why did Johnny Cash
cover Trent Reznor?

Why am I going to mourn Johnny Cash for
“Ring of Fire” and “A Boy Named Sue” and not for “Hurt”?

I don’t have the answer to any of those
questions. And that worries me. Am I fated to live a life
of Nostalgia? Have I become some cranky old fart who says
things like “Bah! Screw Dave Matthews! Now The Romantics,
they were a band! And that Mary J. Blige has nothing on Alison
Moyet!”? Or am I just repeating a cycle, the last generation
rejecting this generation? I’d rather not think that. Besides,
generations are compressed these days. There are guys out
there in their late 20s who are rejecting today’s musical
culture because they think it doesn’t match up to grunge.

I think that there’s an answer to the
question. The fragmentation of music that began in the late
80s has finally taken its toll. It’s not only over genres,
though; it’s over age groups as well. Biscuiti and I are ten
years apart in age. We have nothing to talk about when it
comes to music, because I don’t know the artists he loves
and he doesn’t know mine. There’s no one bridging the age
gap who’s still “cool” that we could talk about. The Rolling
Stones used to fill that gap quite nicely. But their last
great album was Steel Wheels. They’re on a perpetual farewell
tour. And Jagger just turned sixty. Mick Jagger is sixty.
Can anyone under the age of 45 relate to that? Who the hell
would Biscuiti and I talk about? Elton John? Phil Collins?
Celine Dion?

Let’s just take Phil Collins out of that
group for an example. Would Biscuiti believe me when I tell
him that I was exposed to Phil Collins by album-oriented radio,
because those were the only outlets that would play anything
from Duke or Abacab, or how kick-ass his drumming was on The
Lamb Lies Down On Broadway? To him, Phil Collins starts with
“In The Air Tonight” or, God help us even more, “Sussudio”.
“Hey, listen to ‘Mama’ and you’ll find out that, once upon
a time, Phil Collins was cool and on the edge” would be laughed
at (of course, “Mama” was the last time Phil Collins was cool
and on the edge, but never mind that). Common ground isn’t
there.

Where’s the hook? Where’s the impetus
for someone of my age and my inclination to discover the greatness
of today’s culture? Why would it take someone of the stature
of Johnny Cash to get me to wonder whether or not NIN wasn’t
totally worthless like I thought it was? Blame corporatization.
Blame Clear Channel. Blame me being outside of the core demographic
of music marketing. Or just blame me for being me, because
they did such a good job brainwashing me on the pop culture
of my day when I was still inside of that demographic that
the door’s now closed.

There has to be inherent worth in today’s
Pop Culture. I just simply can’t find it. And that’s my problem,
not yours.

-
Eric Szulczewski

Eric Szulczewski is a columnist for
411mania
and www.1ryderfakin.com.

Last 5 posts by Eric Szulczewski

• He's A Crook, But He's Our Crook - December 25th, 2008
• Vengeance Is Mine, Sayeth The Demo - November 4th, 2008
• Surrender is an Option - September 5th, 2008
• Obama, Opinions, Etc. - June 16th, 2008
• Unlike Grut, I Will Spoil It For You... - July 21st, 2007