Could music junkies be to blame for the rapid proliferation of shamelessly awful, overproduced pop music soaking the airwaves? I was marinating on the sad state of pop music this afternoon, and developed a little theory. Ride along with me here. I’m doing more than just bitching.
I pretty much break down pop music into the following categories: First you have the Top 40-type music, which has somehow become diverse in genre classification while converging in originality. All the American Idol winners and their “genres” (pop country, pop pop, pop rock) alongside a cohort of singers who don’t happen to also be songwriters. Michelle Branch, that sort of thing. These entertainers appear squeaky-clean and aspire to heavy rotation on the office-safe mix stations. Their songs are mass-penned and have the lyrical and auditory subtlety of the Jell-O jingle.
Next is what I like to call post-alternative. While I dug alt-rock in the 90′s, it’s thoroughly dead, and it’s been replaced by groups like Linkin Park, Nickelback, and Puddle of Mudd (who are all extremely pissed off at their parents). Case in point: As a kid, I used to make mixtapes by recording anything from Beck to Nine Inch Nails off of a 98 Rock broadcast. Listen to those stations now, and each song sounds like the one before it. They’re mostly terrible songs. Sure, it’s the distorted guitar and screaming, but there’s once again a lack of nuance. All the angsty, misdirected rage of alterna-kids is neatly packaged here.
You’ve also got the “hardcore” R&B that rocks all the thugs in their Jettas. I’m talking about the Supermans and Hot in Herre’s of the world– tunes by guys like Ludacris and Chris Brown. You can throw dance jams by Rhianna and Fergie in that dance-rap pile. These beats are easy to groove to, trademark on lowbrow rhymes and puns, and usually remix an obscure hook from James Brown or Earth, Wind & Fire.
Now, what do these acts all have in common? Two things: First, very simple, overproduced, catchy songs. That’s because these ditties are either blatantly written for the performers or receive heavy input from marketing executives. Following that calculated catchiness is tie-in merchandising. By and large, adults don’t buy CDs anymore– but kids and adolescents do. And they also buy posters, books, magazines, DVDs, and outrageously priced concert tickets.
The record industry isn’t making money on album sales anymore. Through the 1990′s, the model was to book an act with the ability to sell albums. Labels would turn a huge profit on sales, while the artist chiefly made money by backing up their album with quality live performances. The various incarnations of downloading have fundamentally changed the model– illegal filesharing is still a popular method of music acquisition. Even those who buy their music legally are only bound to buy two or three tracks they like from iTunes, as opposed to $12.99 on a whole album.
So what’s a record company to do? They’ve recruited and managed talent, only to find that they’re not making money. They need acts who don’t just attract fans; they need rabid fanbases, eager to snap up dolls and cosmetics branded for their favorite stars. They need kids. Even if teenaged fanatics get their hands on a computer and download tracks, they’re still going to buy posters, clothes, and other high-profit tie-ins.
Hence: Wal-Mart is teaming up with Disney Consumer Products to build “Hannah Montana Shops” inside Wal-Mart locations across the nation. Hannah-branded sportswear, flip-flops, bath beads, and board games will be sold to millions of consumers for the birthdays, Christmases, and middle-school graduations of girls nationwide. And Wal-Mart/DCP are going to make boatloads of cash off of the squeaky-clean Miley Cyrus they’ve produced.
As she ages, struggles with her identity as a woman, and works to transition from kiddie icon to adult popstar (as Lindsey Lohan has failed to do, and as Justin Timberlake has quite successfully done), Disney will probably throw her under the bus in lieu of the next hot seller. Record companies have figured out that signing contracts with American Idol rejects sells tee-shirts and photoprinted folders. That’s why they don’t sign and promote exciting, original acts anymore. New acts can’t live the paradigm of “selling out” if they try– nobody’s buying.
Record companies also sell a lot of cellphone ringtones, and you can bet that the girl next to you blasting T.I. on her iPhone shelled out $2.99 for that clip. That’s pretty profitable, too. Those I-hate-my-parents rockers appeal to the “alternative” kids with disposable income–the ones too jaded for High School Musical will gladly snap up heavily promoted acts such as Anberlin and that annoying guy who sings “hey there Delilah.” Rhianna’s pretty and she sells lip gloss for CoverGirl. Gwen Stefani hawks schoolgirl vests. Talented? No. Profitable? Absolutely. Disposable? As soon as they stop bringing in the cash.
Beyond the cash cows, the majority of what’s listenable still carries a recognizable brand. That’s why the most inventive performers today include Justin Timberlake (had you told me ten years ago I’d be listening to a former boy-bander and calling his beats interesting, I’d have laughed in your face). The record industry’s message to musicians is clear: If you can’t bring in the cash, you’d better stick to distributing your tracks on MySpace.
Ergo: We, the music junkies who jumped at the chance to download fifty-seven obscure tracks by the Smashing Pumpkins back in 1998, or to get ahold of every Radiohead remix on every Japanese single released, for free– we are responsible for the new paradigm in performer promotion. If we had just shelled out the thirteen bucks at Best Buy, we might’ve at least kept these acts to the Britney Spears level for a few years; that level seemed incredible at the time, but Miley Cyrus is now wealthier than Brit-Brit will ever be. The record industry had to figure out a new way to make money, and this is what they’ve come up with.
When it comes to bitching about “music nowadays,” we may have no one to blame but ourselves. Oh well, at least we still have our iPods…
