When rock stars care for the village
Published Jun 22, 2000
Another life was claimed at Columbine High recently, this time by a teenager who set his cd player to play the band Blink 182's "Adam's Song" continuously and put a gun to his head. The song includes these lyrics: "I never thought I'd die alone...I'm too depressed to go on. You'll be sorry when I'm gone."
Hillary Clinton has taken a lot of heat over a number of blunders for which she legitimately deserves criticism. But there is one issue on which she is right: It does take a village to raise a child -- not a government, but a village. While her prescriptions of more government intervention may be seriously flawed, her notion, appropriated from an African proverb, is correct. And those who claim to favor strong families would be well served to heed her call for a shared community ethos.
Unfortunately those who object to Hillary's concept of villagers looking out for one another are often found on the artistic far left who object to the notion that their calling as artists carries with it an obligation to do their best to ensure that their work doesn't destroy the lives of those who enjoy it.
I recently debated a rock singer who contended that she gave no consideration as to how her music might affect her listeners. It was up to parents, she argued, to turn off inappropriate messages that her music may contain.
It's a silly position of course, for she lives among the people who consume her art and will, in one way or another, feel the repercussions of a society that is bound to be affected by her work.
The future belongs to artists who are willing to move beyond simple self-expression and become performers whose artistic expression is tempered by an anticipation of the effect that art may have on their village. Some have shown us what that can look like. Kerry Livgren, the founding member of the rock group Kansas once found himself in a moral dilemma while assembling material for his band's release "Vinyl Confessions." Livgren was a rock star with a spiritual and social conscience as reflected in his band's searching anthems "Dust In The Wind," and "Carry On Wayward Son." As he looked for songs for the band's next record he came across one with an unforgettable hook called "Stay With Me Tonight," a simple, catchy tune celebrating a one night stand: "Stay with me tonight, doesn't matter if it's wrong or right."
Livgren loved the song but hesitated. The last thing he wanted to be known as was the guy who put out the sleazy one night stand song. What he did next was more powerful than any government censor, warning label, V-chip or government program: He restrained his own art, taking into account the effect it would have on the lives of his fans.
Retooling the song and keeping intact that unforgettable hook, Livgren turned a song that would have only have brought negative consequences to his village and turned it into a Kansas classic "Play The Game Tonight," which examined the life of a rock star and managed to present the listener with a moral challenge.
Thus "Stay With Me Tonight doesn't matter if it's wrong or right" became "Play the game tonight, can you tell me if it's wrong or right? Is it worth the time? Is it worth the price? Do you see yourself in the white spotlight?"
A more recent example of this type of artistry -- which places more value on the effect that a song will have on the listeners than unconscious self-revelation -- was a song by rocker Lenny Kravitz called "Don't Put A Bullet In Your Heart," in which the singer didn't shrink from describing the street life but ended it with an appeal to "turn your life around instead."
While some fellow rockers present their audiences with glorified messages of violence and mayhem, Kravitz is proudly unfashionable both in his 70's regalia and in his refusal to dole out hopelessness to fans looking for some inspiration.
On this point at least, Hillary Clinton is right and as bands like Blink 182 continue to use the fig leaf of free speech to cover up their responsibility to their culture, the future of popular entertainment belongs to artists like Livgren and Kravitz who have found a way to make great art AND take care of their village.
What's your opinion? Send in your response via email to Commentaries@crosswalk.com.
Hillary Clinton has taken a lot of heat over a number of blunders for which she legitimately deserves criticism. But there is one issue on which she is right: It does take a village to raise a child -- not a government, but a village. While her prescriptions of more government intervention may be seriously flawed, her notion, appropriated from an African proverb, is correct. And those who claim to favor strong families would be well served to heed her call for a shared community ethos.
Unfortunately those who object to Hillary's concept of villagers looking out for one another are often found on the artistic far left who object to the notion that their calling as artists carries with it an obligation to do their best to ensure that their work doesn't destroy the lives of those who enjoy it.
I recently debated a rock singer who contended that she gave no consideration as to how her music might affect her listeners. It was up to parents, she argued, to turn off inappropriate messages that her music may contain.
It's a silly position of course, for she lives among the people who consume her art and will, in one way or another, feel the repercussions of a society that is bound to be affected by her work.
The future belongs to artists who are willing to move beyond simple self-expression and become performers whose artistic expression is tempered by an anticipation of the effect that art may have on their village. Some have shown us what that can look like. Kerry Livgren, the founding member of the rock group Kansas once found himself in a moral dilemma while assembling material for his band's release "Vinyl Confessions." Livgren was a rock star with a spiritual and social conscience as reflected in his band's searching anthems "Dust In The Wind," and "Carry On Wayward Son." As he looked for songs for the band's next record he came across one with an unforgettable hook called "Stay With Me Tonight," a simple, catchy tune celebrating a one night stand: "Stay with me tonight, doesn't matter if it's wrong or right."
Livgren loved the song but hesitated. The last thing he wanted to be known as was the guy who put out the sleazy one night stand song. What he did next was more powerful than any government censor, warning label, V-chip or government program: He restrained his own art, taking into account the effect it would have on the lives of his fans.
Retooling the song and keeping intact that unforgettable hook, Livgren turned a song that would have only have brought negative consequences to his village and turned it into a Kansas classic "Play The Game Tonight," which examined the life of a rock star and managed to present the listener with a moral challenge.
Thus "Stay With Me Tonight doesn't matter if it's wrong or right" became "Play the game tonight, can you tell me if it's wrong or right? Is it worth the time? Is it worth the price? Do you see yourself in the white spotlight?"
A more recent example of this type of artistry -- which places more value on the effect that a song will have on the listeners than unconscious self-revelation -- was a song by rocker Lenny Kravitz called "Don't Put A Bullet In Your Heart," in which the singer didn't shrink from describing the street life but ended it with an appeal to "turn your life around instead."
While some fellow rockers present their audiences with glorified messages of violence and mayhem, Kravitz is proudly unfashionable both in his 70's regalia and in his refusal to dole out hopelessness to fans looking for some inspiration.
On this point at least, Hillary Clinton is right and as bands like Blink 182 continue to use the fig leaf of free speech to cover up their responsibility to their culture, the future of popular entertainment belongs to artists like Livgren and Kravitz who have found a way to make great art AND take care of their village.
What's your opinion? Send in your response via email to Commentaries@crosswalk.com.
Originally published June 22, 2000.
