Earworm of the Day: The Kinks - Death of a Clown

2012 is shaping up to be the year of "dude rock" -- at least in my world.

In the past couple weeks, I've added not only the Kinks, but the Stones, Springsteen (see below), and some favorites from the late 90s like Wilco and the Old 97s to my iPod. I've always listened to "dude" music, but trying to write about music from a feminist lens above everything else has relegated a lot of it to "guilty pleasure" status. And while I know it's possible to like un-feminist (or at least, not explicitly feminist) things without having to turn in your lady card. it does feel hypocritical to write about someone like Beth Ditto or JD Samson and when I'm done listen to the same music, well, my dad does.

The Kinks: The contrarian's choice for the "Beatles or Stones" question. Artistically, I'd go with The Beatles while the drunken Karaoker in me picks the Stones. But the Kinks fascinated me in a way that neither of those two did. They were so patently British, which contributed to their less than stellar popularity stateside, and vulnerable in an unnamable way -- at least compared to Lennon's obvious ennui and Mick's posturing.

How I (sort of) learned to love Springsteen

Lately this blog has become an exercise in deconstructing those aspects of pop culture I don't "get."

And I hate how "don't get" is shorthand for "don't like," or at the very lest, "refuse to see the cultural significance of," but even the most objective writer (and I am not the most objective writer), can't help but take in account her own backstory when writing about BIG INFLUENTIAL ARTISTS. Sometimes the stars just failed to line up properly.

To me, Bruce Springsteen is fossilized as part of the 80s: fist in the air, arena rock, "Born in the U.S.A." Bruce. I was maybe ten or eleven, but I was  preternaturally "cool"with an unhealthy dose of resentment toward pop music, even organic, genuine, singer-songwriter-y pop music. Springsteen's music had been co-opted by a faction of America whose identity I was trying to shrug off. The actual America in his songs -- the working-class, struggling, unhappy, trying to salvage something --  hit too close to home.

It took about fifteen years and sitting in a parking lot during a downpour listening to Nebraska in its entirety before I "got it." By then I had other "Bruces," namely the Replacements' Paul Westerberg who wrote of the same kind of working-class losers, his with a Midwestern bent and a punk rock philosophy that I found instantly appealing --  and if I'm being perfectly honest, still do -- but Springsteen's place in the canon is something I'd be stupid to challenge.

Another thing Springsteen did that often goes uncredited is write great songs about women as three-dimensional, often flawed, human beings. A few years ago Sarah Jaffe wrote a great piece for Bitch Magazine about Springsteen's popularity with feminists. She says:

He's been critiqued for his use of the phrase "little girl," but I love Bruce's women. From Mary from "Thunder Road" (my favorite) who ain't a beauty but yeah she's alright, and isn't looking for a savior but just someone else to run away for a while on the open road, to Rosalita and Wendy of "Born to Run," Bruce gives you women who are real, who you (or at least I) can see yourself in. 

He explores relationships and feelings in a thousand complex ways instead of writing the same falling-in-love or getting-heartbroken song over again. I don't have time or space here to list them all, but I think the best I can say, the best explanation I can give, is that Bruce writes of real life, of the tiny moments in it that transcend, yes, but also the struggles and heartaches of everyday existence. That he writes from the point of view of a (now quite wealthy) white heterosexual man but one who understands and loves women as people as well.

Admittedly, I'm not convinced. I'm hesitant to label something feminist simply because it shows women as more than objects of affection. It's feminism as shorthand for not being an an asshole which should be the default, not something that's necessarily rewarded. (And the creepy "Im On Fire" doesn't do much to help his cause.) This is why we need more writers writing about music through a feminist lens.