Jamwise #31 - Separating the Music From The Listener

Featuring: The Smiths, Mary J. Blige, Red Hot Chili Peppers, The Beatles.

Separating The Art From The Beholder

There’s a common debate about the idea of separating art from the artist who produces it. The two sides typically go like this: one side thinks the art is the reflection of the artist, and the other thinks the art is something standalone that should be judged separately from the artist.

Take, for example, JK Rowling and the Harry Potter franchise. Rowling has gained a negative public perception, while her books and the movies that followed are generally beloved. It’s become common (at least on the internet, where everything tends to devolve into an argument) to get drawn into a discussion about Rowling’s personal beliefs from a simple post about your favorite Harry Potter spells. There are articles dedicated to dissecting Rowling’s beliefs from pieces of evidence gathered from the Harry Potter books, as if to convince everyone that we should have seen Rowling’s personal beliefs written between the lines all along. 

There are many other examples in recent memory, generally when a beloved artist does something despicable, causing people to be torn about whether they’re allowed to continue enjoying the person’s music. We’ve encountered several examples of this during the Rolling Stone 500 Greatest Albums project - Michael Jackson, Eric Clapton, and Kanye West, to name a few. 

The idea of separating love for music with love for the person who created it is a complex one. Should we financially support morally reprehensible artists by listening to their music? Should we pretend to hate a good song because the artist who wrote it subsequently did something awful? Or conversely, should we forgive a person because they wrote a song that was objectively completely fucked up? These are difficult questions, and I’m going to sidestep them for right now and focus on the listener rather than the artist.

As a music listener, how much should my taste in music be associated with my own personal beliefs? Can we separate ourselves from the music we enjoy, or does it define us?

This internal debate came about after I listened to Eminem’s Marshall Mathers LP. I hated that album with every ounce of my soul, to put it mildly. But what troubled me, even after Marshall’s grating voice had faded from my eardrums, were the continuing thoughts about the kind of person who could like that album, and what that said about them. 

Intuitively, judging someone for the art they enjoy seems ridiculous. Their reasons are infinitely complicated, as are their lives, and even if I did have the right to judge them (I don’t), I’d never be able to form a nuanced enough understanding of their views to do so effectively. I mean, if I was a godlike figure with the mandate to judge everyone, I’d at least want to do my homework first. No damnation without due diligence, y’all.

As an example, let’s say I enjoy Eminem’s song “Kill You,” which includes, among other things, references to murder, drug use, anti-homosexual slurs, and many other horrible crimes against humanity. These are ostensibly presented in the form of a “skit”, kind of a hypothetical situation that’s playing out in Slim Shady’s head - Slim Shady is supposed to be one of Eminem’s alter egos, like the messed up corner of his head, and the general consensus seems to be that the subject matter of this song is mostly for shock value rather than expressions of the artist (despite the fact that the album is literally named after the artist. It’s confusing, and I still might not be getting it.)

If I enjoy this song, does that imply I’m a bad person?

Obviously that’s not for someone else to say, even though many on the internet would be happy to pass such a judgment. But in my mind, I can’t escape the idea that I’d have to be pretty messed up to like this song. I picture playing it in a car with a friend or family member, and what they’d think of me for enjoying it. Or if someone played it for me saying they loved the song, how would I react to that information? In the case of “Kill You,” I would probably, simply put, judge the shit out of them. Even though I’m not in a position to judge, even though they aren’t the one doing all the horrible stuff Eminem raps about, even though they might be enjoying the song for a million reasons I can’t even comprehend, even though they’re just listening to something that someone else put hours and hours into creating, judgment is still my first instinct in this hypothetical.

I used an extreme example, because this song might be one of the most polarizing (and hated) in existence. But you can tone the argument down and apply the same thinking to almost any piece of music. For example, I’ve always loved the song “Stay With Me” by Faces. Does enjoying that song say something about me? Or am I, as a listener, totally separate from the song’s issues, and free to enjoy it for any reason I want? I love the song for the rollicking guitar riff and the catchy chorus, and Rod Stewart’s raspy rock and roll voice. I tend to ignore the one-night-stand references and the somewhat sexist description of Rita, which I consider tame in comparison to a million other songs that disparage women in one way or another, although I wouldn’t want someone describing my daughter the way Rod describes Rita. I can discard the negatives and focus on the positives of the song.

Clearly, dissecting every piece of art we love to understand what that says about us has the potential to become an inescapable rabbit hole. My gut tells me that the reason I like a song says more about me than another person’s interpretation of the song. Maybe there are people out there who like “Kill You” for its frank discussion of harmful thoughts and the idea that ignoring them may not be the solution - perhaps expressing terrible thoughts as words is an outlet that prevents one from acting on them, and perhaps “Kill You” can be appreciated from that light. I don’t know, and it would probably take a psychologist to fully understand the implications. The point is that there are infinitely complex reasons for someone else to like a song, and they’re probably impossible to understand, even through scientific study.

My conclusion is that, in the end, only I know why I really like or relate to a piece of music. Nobody else can fully understand the context of why I enjoy something. Therefore, only my opinion of myself matters. If I’m satisfied that liking a song with negative qualities doesn’t infect me with those negative qualities, then that’s enough. I can separate myself from the music I like, or I can choose not to separate myself from it - but anyone living outside my head isn’t qualified to make that distinction on my behalf.

Project BAE - Best Albums Ever

Currently listening my way through the Rolling Stone 500 Greatest Albums of All Time. Progress: 136/500

Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band - The Beatles

For as seriously as they clearly took their music, the Beatles have always had a whimsical, non-serious sound to me. This album is the distillation of that silliness in many ways, a perfect mixture of potentially LSD-inspired whimsy and musical genius. I find it interesting to read the reactions to the album from contemporaries and compare that to my perception 53 years after the album’s release; the Beatles both captured the spirit of youth in 1967 and invented new ways of approaching music and the album itself. 

The honors for this album are neverending - I’d run out of space listing half of them. But it’s all for good reason, and you can add a prestigious Jamwise thumbs-up to the ever-growing legacy of Sgt. Pepper.

• “With A Little Help From My Friends”

• “Getting Better”

• “A Day In The Life”

What’s The 411? - Mary J Blige

Mary J’s debut album from 1992 has me conflicted. On one hand, you have Mary J’s incredible singing talent, which simultaneously gives each song a modern flair while honoring the soul and R&B (and a dash of hip-hop) predecessors who inspired this album. On the other hand, you have a series of songs with the lyrical complexity of a children’s book - I counted at least 3 separate songs that used some variation of the phrase “Lovin’ is all I want to do” as part of the hook, while the term “lovin’” was literally on every track. The formula for each song seemed to be a Ctrl-V of the last - a beautiful chorus of backup singers singing about “lovin’” over a straightforward downtempo beat while Mary J riffs, using her voice like an electric guitarist might use their instrument to wring out shiny, show-off riffs where lyrics would only get in the way.

Most of this album feels gratuitous. First there’s the intro track, which is a chest-thumping list of “voicemails” left by music industry folks impressed by Mary J’s album (which, as this is the first track on her debut album, nobody else has heard yet. Just got to make sure everyone knows up front that it’s great - your own opinion is irrelevant). Then there’s the utterly pointless Busta Rhymes “intro” track, which seems only to exist to further boost Mary J’s credibility as a superstar. Fake it till you make it, I guess, and nobody can argue that Mary J Blige made it.

This album seems designed for two broad purposes - the first is to give a nod to the rich mix of genres and artists who clearly inspired the music. This is done primarily with the backing tracks, however, and kind of pushed off as an afterthought. That’s because the greater purpose of this album is to celebrate Mary J’s voice. This is done at the expense of the songs themselves - lyrics don’t matter, the background singers don’t matter, the repetitive beats don’t matter; all that matters is that we listen to Mary J execute flawless sequences of notes in her soulful tone, using one or two vowel sounds at the very most. I suppose it could be considered moving in the same way a good guitar solo can be moving - it’s virtuosity deployed in an extremely “look at me” way, a celebration of talent at the expense of songwriting and lyricism. It’s as impressive as it is boring. 

The Queen Is Dead - The Smiths

Before this project, I couldn’t claim to be an expert on Britpop, or indeed on any of the formative subgenres of pop in general. But after enjoying so many in and around the genre, like Stone Roses and Arctic Monkeys (my personal favorites), I’m starting to come ‘round. 

This might just be my American perspective, in which everything spoken or sung with a British accent takes on a completely different character than the same words in an American accent, but there’s always something a little wry about Britpop music, like they want to be unserious but repress the urge with 90% success. This album is extremely cohesive, with effortless songwriting and a smattering of goofy lyrics or sounds that amount to the 1980’s Britain version of a polite middle finger to the establishment. In fact, the emotional dissonance from the lyrics of songs like “There Is A Light That Never Goes Out” and the emotionally compressed backing music, which carries only a hint of the wistfulness of the lyrics, is a trait I’ve started associating with Britpop. Maybe I’ve been over-stimulated by the endless need for “bigger, louder, sadder, happier” that seems to have infected music since the time of this album, but at the same time I’ve heard the same in many of the British acts, like a musical manifestation of the famous “British restraint” the pop culture world would have us believe in.

Jams

• “Frankly, Mr. Shankly”

• “I Know It’s Over”

• “Bigmouth Strikes Again”

Blood Sugar Sex Magic - Red Hot Chili Peppers

The Chili Peppers seem to be a polarizing band these days. On the one hand, any band that’s reached their level of fame in popular culture is bound to be mocked for something or another. I don’t know of any major acts who can escape the hate that comes simply from being popular. And the Chili Peppers were a polarizing band from the beginning, which was undoubtedly their intent. Funk mixed with Punk and Rock mixed with jock socks were combinations destined to piss off the old and appeal to the young, not to mention the band’s in-your-face opinions on society. 

Common criticisms I’ve heard revolve around lead singer Anthony Kiedis’ singing (rapping?) voice, the frequent “scat” lyrics getting on peoples nerves, the other lyrics composed of real words that still sometimes amount to gibberish, all the songs are about drugs, sex, and/or California (that’s a shocker, given the title of this album). 

I’m positively biased towards RHCP because I grew up loving their music. It’s just plain fun, and I don’t care if a band has a few duds or sell-out moments. That’s like saying you hate a restaurant because they serve fish and you hate fish. Restaurants serve a lot of dishes, and you can choose what you like. Do the Chili Peppers write a lot of high bro-pseudo-philosophy? Yep. Does it sound a little weird now that they’re older and still performing their weird brand of rock-funk-whatever? Maybe. But there are so many refreshing moments in their catalog that the so-called “cringe” factor is completely overshadowed. I don’t care that the Chili Peppers are starting to show up on Classic Dad Rock playlists - they’re an all-time band, a huge part of my musical upbringing, and I’ll still be blaring their music from my Jeep speakers long after it’s cool to do so. Hell, I already am.

Jams

• “Give It Away”

• “Under The Bridge”

• “Breaking The Girl”