Confessions of a Fanboy

Our culture no longer puts a premium on knowing one’s place, on knowing one’s limitations. There are countless examples of this throughout pop culture. One of my favorite whipping boys, American Idol is a great one. Thousands of – and I’m being really fucking generous here – marginal talents come out of the woodwork under delusion they have what it takes to be a star if only they had access to the movers and the shakers.

There’s a pervasive underdog worship – jackpot justice – lottery ticket mentality in our country where every misfortune has the potential to produce a payout, everyone loves the little guy, and equally impossible odds translates to a good gamble.

If all of this seems a bit highbrow and stuffy for a site like Fanboy, allow me to restore hope and thus prove I am not a victim of the knuckleheadedness of which I speak. My objection to the widespread “Land of Make Believe” mentality has nothing to do with my concern for society or the well-being of the kids. I’m pissed off because this pervasive mentality is making for some dreary art.

Exhibit A: The new Linkin Park album

Linkin Park is making a bid for maturity. They want to be taken seriously as artists. Their new album is filled with references to contemporary politics and current events. They’re trying to make a statement.

Here’s my statement in response to the Linkin Park statement: Motherfuckers of the world!

This, to me, is only slightly less laughable than New Kids on the Block changing their name to NKOTB in an effort to shed their child-star image to appeal to an older audience. The only reason Linkin Park still has a major label deal is because Fred Durst was around to make Mike Shinoda and Chester Bennington look smart.

Linkin Park is going political.

Let me spike – or attempt to – stave off some of the ad hominem attacks. Yes, Linkin Park has every right in the world to make whatever statement they wish. I’m familiar with the First Amendment. The First Amendment says the band can speak, it doesn’t say they should.

To bring politics and music together, you either have to be smart or you have to be punk. Bob Dylan, for example. can write political music. Dylan is a master of language and possesses a keen eye for observation and criticism. Not everyone is cut out for it. Mick Jagger, when asked about the probable post-9/11 flood of patriotic songs, warned that most songwriters were better off sticking with “moon in June” because this type of event was not the no-brainer it might seem to be on the surface. Just remember: John Lennon gave us “Imagine,” Paul McCartney gave us “Ebony and Ivory.”

I can practically hear Chester Bennington summoning the late Phil Hartman’s Frankenstein, “Mmmm. War bad.” Thanks, Chet, I feel smarter already.

Smart is one way to go if you’re going to go political. The other is to take the punk approach. All that’s required are tunes and a general hatred of everything. The Sex Pistols had lots of the latter when they famously wanted “Anarchy in the U.K.,” — not four more years for New Labour. The Ramones wanted to be sedated and just wanted something to do, and they wanted these things as part of some amazingly good pop music. They didn’t give a damn – at least not in their music – about which presidential candidate had the best plan for universal health care.

The best punk combines disillusionment, disgust, boredom and/or rage directed indiscriminately. Green Day recycled Bruce Springsteen characters to an Oasis melody – which damn near everyone would note probably wasn’t theirs in the first place – and people acted like they’d really achieved something. Billy Joe Armstrong is about as qualified to call someone else an “American Idiot” as Pauly Shore is to give a speech at the U.N. on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.

Some great music and art emerged from the Vietnam War era. I can’t think of a great song that has come from the Iraq War era. R.E.M., John Mellencamp, Steve Earle, Neil Young, Madonna, and countless others have had their say on the subject. None of them have made records that are likely to be remembered 10 years from now. Hell, I bet some of you had already forgotten half of those if you ever heard of any of them at all. As John Lennon put it, “Everybody’s talking and no one says a word.” These songs aren’t connecting, and it’s not because the American people are pleased with the direction of things. There are millions of people ready to coalesce around the artist, activist, or politician who can connect with them. Does anyone really think Linkin Park is going to be that band?

I have been wrong before, but I cannot imagine this album being anything but awful. It would have been dreadful without vapid attempts to examine the ills of the world and offer inane solutions. If there is any justice in the world – and Linkin Park will probably tell us there isn’t – this album will speed the process of their demise.

Filed under: Fanboy Manifesto