A very nice article (since I'm sympathetic to his views, otherwise it would be total nonsense, of course) on the matter is Alex Ross' "Listen To This". It may be long, but it's worth it. It contains a line that I whole-heartedly agree with ("The best music is music that persuades us that there is no other music in the world"), as is probably evident from some of the things I've written here over the years (or the little item in the sidebar, for that matter). It is no surprise then that it is Mr. Ross (and, it should be said, if only to give you an understanding of the truly crass nature of who you're dealing with, an otherwise forgettable episode of The Simpsons) who has provided me with the sufficient push to go ahead and have Mozart sitting amusedly by Morrissey.
Again in the paper, this time a fair while ago, I read something about pop/rockers not being remembered in the next few decades, let alone centuries (unlike Mozart). Neil Young made put forth his view on the very first line of Rust Never Sleeps, yet is his defiant statement misguided? Well, I'd wager that the giants of the '60s will certainly find a place in the history books of tomorrow, and that if we do see their work being dismissed as the years go by, I think it would be a pretty big loss. So I suppose I think that it would be wrong to dismiss rock uniformly as being low-art (or no-art!) at best.
As for why I think this, I suppose it's based on how some of it has made me feel over the years. Oh it can make one feel all right; judging by the amount I've written about it, I'd be surprise if one who is versed in it could claim otherwise. I do get somewhat upset when people try to dismiss all of rock as being shallow and incapable of communicating any serious message to the listener, or otherwise educating or informing them. I don't believe that all my experiences of having deep emotional reactions to songs or albums have been illusions, or self-induced!
Yet, having said this, what I have come to realize after thinking about the subject is that maybe the feelings it induces aren't always all that deep or complex. Maybe I'm over-zealous in my yearning to find something of worth that I get carried away. A little critical reflection and I think that sure, I've been a bit hasty sometimes with praise of the emotional depth of certain albums/songs*. But I still maintain the best stuff, as in whatever has remained once the dust has settled, is deep and profound and all that for me. Although, I now accept that this may well change in the future, even though my heart tells me it won't.
I guess the problem with such an intuitive, emotional evaluation is that it makes it impossible to give any sound rebuttal to the claim that the music is somehow inherently inferior. I cannot argue on the basis of technical terms; I am willing to concede that rock is usually not as complex as a classical piece. So I suppose my reaction is, in a loose sense, equivalent to the familiar "I just care whether it sounds good!" philosophy.
The unfortunate temptation with matters like this is to dismiss the opposition as ignorant; especially so when it comes to rock music! Because, unfortunately, there probably are those who see rock as little more than the mainstream acts that receive airplay these days (e.g. "My Humps"**), or the strings of hits of most other artists. You can't really blame such views, because unless one is marginally dedicated, it's hard to get past these things. And assuming one starts off knowing nothing about rock, where's the incentive to get dedicated when this seems to be the standard of things?
Now, Alex Ross seems to be someone who has heard his fair share of classical and popular music alike, and when I think about it, I don't know too many people like that. If we take classical to be more general than western-classical, there are some who immediately come to mind. One particularly strange incident happened sometime last year with dear S - at the heart of it, it was the cultured vs. non-cultured argument (guess which was which!?!). While I usually know my place, I immediately rose to defend my beloved music, and asked that I be openly criticized for being uncultured if that was truly her view. There were too many people present, so I don't think it got resolved; in fact, I don't know if I even got a response. C'est la vie!
I once asked A for thoughts on pop/rock, since he is one of the few people I know with a leaning towards orchestral pieces. I remember A writing about how he saw most pop/rock to be ephemeral at best, and that it was doomed to be the stuff of instant gratification. The real art, he said, would be found in classical pieces, symphonies, operas, and what have you. I cooly attributed this to a lack of exposure on his part, but maybe there is more to his view than I give credit. I find it hard to be anywhere near objective with these things, you see. I mean, if I gave A "Misery" to listen to, God only knows what invectives would come forth from his mouth. Lou Reed might've captured this on "The Trouble With Classicists", except I haven't heard the song***.
Look, I'm going nowhere here, so I may as well stop before I start talking about the time I first opened the liner notes to album X. I suppose even if I can't say that rock is art in general, then at least I can say that rock is something that, when done properly, can make me feel a lot of things. Maybe the emotions put in are sometimes naive, and maybe I swoon too easily; but the best stuff is still amazingly rich for me. Who knows, maybe their beauty too will wear off in time - that would not be a trademark of the highest form of art! I am far too inexperienced to predict which way it will turn out, but for now, I believe at least some of it will resonate in my life. So while it may be inferior, it doesn't matter - just yet. Which does not mean that I will shut my ears to classical music - only that when I do try to listen to some classical pieces and when I think about them afterwards, it will (hopefully) be devoid of these notions of inferiority/superiority.
You know, at one point, I was hopelessly elitist in my views about books and music. I am glad for experiences like this that reveal how much I have to learn, but also make me test my own convictions. I used to shudder at the thought of appreciating anything I saw to be for the masses, preferring to be smug at my obviously superior taste; little did I know that I'm being looked down upon too! I have started to appreciate things for what they are, not for perceived opinions, and don't feel as ashamed as I once might have. Unfortunately, the elitist still remains to some extent (see the Peas comment below), but so it goes.
* I cleaned up my naive RYM list yesterday, but it's still quite bloated with the sins of impatience
** Look, I'm sorry, I don't like bashing things, but I found this song genuinely funny. I know I could never make it big like them Peas, but do allow me this indiscretion (so it seems that I am unabashed elitist, and so really have no right to comment on the classical elitists!).
*** But I do know the lyrics are well worth your time:
The trouble with an impressionist, he looks at a log
And he doesn't know who he is, standing, staring, at this log
And surrealist memories are too amorphous and proud
While those downtown macho painters are just alcoholic
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