like a burning guitar

My favorite band in the world, The Arctic Monkeys, were on SNL this past weekend and, wow, they're even gayer on TV. The singer/guitarist had his axe hiked up to his chin and sported that sweet Liam Gallagher shaggy bowlcut circa '97.

Remember that whole rockism thing bloggurz were bloggin' 'bout not too long ago? From the Wikipedia entry on the theory:

The fundamental tenet of rockism is that some forms of popular music, and some musical artists, are more authentic than others. More specifically, authentic popular music fits the rock and roll paradigm; it is made using the basic rock instrumentation of guitars, bass guitars and drums, and fits the structures of a rock and roll song. Rockism is suspicious of the use of technology, from synthesizers to Pro Tools-style computer-based production systems. Rockism places value on the idea of the composer and performer as auteur; authentic music is composed as a sincere form of self-expression, and usually performed by those who composed it. This is as opposed to the notion of manufactured "pop" music, created in assembly line fashion by teams of hired producers and technicians and performed by pop stars who have little input into the creative process, designed to appeal to a mass market and make profits rather than express authentic sentiments.

Lots of people take issue with rockism and accuse it of being a primitivist ideology and even racist, sexist, homophobic, etc. I reject the entire premise because it's predicated on the notion that there's a difference between pop and rock. There isn't. Rock is just as contrived and manufactured as pop is.

I won't name names for obvious reasons, but I know some of the members of a well-known rock band. One of those The Bands that are all the rage these days. They're not insanely huge, but they make enough money to buy their moms and dads houses, which is precisely why they started the band. See, the band was formed from the ashes of other bands the members were involved in. None of the guys' previous bands were going anywhere and eventually those bands folded. The guys, all friends from childhood, decided to get together and form a new band, but before they even got together for their first practice, they got in touch with a manager. Well, before even that, they constructed a new image for themselves as a bland, vaguley indifferent group of dudes with bedhead, fros, super tight jeans, blazers, and Chuck Taylors. Then they got in touch with a manager. The manager liked their look and the description of the band and agreed to manage them. Then, without having written one fucking song, they landed a record deal. Amazing, huh? The guys know what's up and knew exactly what to say and do to get their foot in the door. So they wrote some shitty ass music, just like The Arctic Monkeys, and voila. Now they make enough money to buy their parents new homes.

Fame is easy if you play the game. Talent has little to do with it. It's like when people come to Hollywood with artistic aspirations—I just want to pat them on the head. So cute.