Friday, September 28, 2012

The 80s freak me out.

Not kidding. I think I've unconsciously avoided the 80s in my study of popular music history. I've hit the 50s, 60s and 70s pretty hard, and then I skipped to the 90s (with the exception of Guns 'N Roses. "November Rain" is my all-time favorite song. Maybe. That's actually not a safe statement to make, because I have a new favorite song every day). I don't know a lot about 80s music or 80s culture for that matter, so this was really eye-opening for me.

I've seen the big hair and the brightly colored leggings and sweatbands. But other than that, I've seen very little of the 80s. Oh, and acid-washed jeans and Farrah Fawcett hair, as seen here on my father and mother, respectively:
(To be fair, this was Christmas 1990, but still 80s accurate. My mother will kill me for this. :D)
Just in general, all of these music videos had a really futuristic look to them. Tom Petty's 'spaceship car thing,' and the crazy weird test-tube lady in "Video Killed the Radio Star" are just two examples. Even in terms of the sound, it was all really futuristic...a lot of synthesizer versus other traditional pop music instruments. In thinking about other 80s pop culture happenings, they too, were futuristic: the Back to the Future trilogy (one of the few 80s things that doesn't freak me out entirely), and even Star Wars (which granted, started in 1977, but the trilogy concluded in the early 80s).

I think a lot of this futurist focus is coming unconsciously from the rise and development of postmodernism. A lot of the artificiality of the 80s style seems to be a projection of what people imagined the world becoming. The site about postmodernism states that postmodernism was "an intentional movement...to subvert what is seen as dominant in modernism." One of the dominant ideas in the era of modernism was that of "progress through science and technology." America was fighting to become more technologically advanced than some of our international rivals, particularly the Soviet Union, as this was smack-dab in the middle of the Cold War era. Thus, if postmodernism was attempting to subvert this dominant idea, then a criticism and skepticism of technology was to be expected in the postmodernism movement. I think this skepticism was depicted nicely in a lot of the music videos we were given as examples of the 80s. A lot of the futuristic details presented in these videos were exaggerated--depicting just how skeptical people were about the rise of technology.

Specifically focusing on "Video Killed the Radio Star," the lyrics were actually supposed to be about the technological changes occurring starting in the 60s, and nostalgia for the past. It was about the way in which the development of television had completely changed the face of entertainment, and had "killed" the old-timey radio shows, because now people could watch the action instead of just listening and imagining it.

"I heard you on the wireless back in '52 / Lying awake intent at tuning in on you / If I was young it didn't stop you coming through....They took the credit for your second symphony / Rewritten by machine and new technology / and now I understand the problems you can see...Video killed the radio star / Pictures came and broke your heart...In my mind and in my car, we can't rewind we've gone too far / Pictures came and broke your heart, put the blame on VTR."
(VTR is the abbreviation for video tape recorder)

I think that the development of MTV and the music video was another facet to this change: a focus on the visual rather than on the audible. Before music videos, people could listen to a song, and imagine their own story or scenario in their minds. But music videos brought with them visual interpretations of songs, which in a way, dictated the way people could view the "story" behind a song.

For me, this idea connected to a lecture from my Romanticism and Music class. We discussed how in the romantic era, there was a huge debate about program music vs absolute music. If you don't know anything about music history, basically program music was music that told a story through the instrumental music--and then the composer would add a "program," or a description of what was going on and what the audience should listen for. This got all the neo-Classicist composers up in arms because they thought that it was always supposed to be up to the audience as to what they "saw" or felt through the music. In absolute music, the instrumental music may or may not actually represent anything, and what it did convey certainly wasn't dictated to the audience through a program. These neo-Classicist staunch supporters of absolute music felt that adding a program to the compositions was giving the composer too much control over what their audience was going to think about.

As I was reading about postmodernism and the 80s, and watching these videos, I started to see music videos as the modern-day equivalent to program music. It's like people can listen to a song on the radio, and the music will evoke certain thoughts or feelings or scenes in their minds. But then they watch the music video, and see the artist's interpretation of the song--and suddenly, every time they hear that song, they are seeing the music video, the artist's interpretation, instead of their own.

I find it really ironic that the video for this song--a commentary on the effect of television--was one of the first videos to be broadcast on MTV. I don't know that the Buggles were trying to comment on music videos as all with the release of this one, because I know the focus of the song was about television in the 60s (and especially since they didn't write the song or record it first), but I think that the message of the song can be applied to the development of music videos. I also think that the amount of "futuristic technology" depicted in the video was a great illustration of the postmodern skepticism about the rise of technology, and what would happen to the future of this country if we kept moving forward technologically.

Although...I'm still disappointed we don't have any of those cool things people thought we'd have, like hoverboards or hovercrafts or crazy spaceship houses like on The Jetsons (which was created in the 60s, but was further produced for syndication in the 80s). But it's not 2062 yet, so we can still hold out hope!

Friday, September 14, 2012

Can I get an Amen?

I was having another sleepless night a few nights ago, and HGTV was not showing my usual sleepy-time fare. E! didn't even have anything good on worth mocking. So in my late-night stupor, I flipped through channel after channel of late night talk shows, old reruns, and paid advertisements until...I saw it. The televangelist channel! Actually, I don't think it's actually a whole channel devoted to televangelists, but at that moment in time, someone was on my screen, excitedly stomping and screaming about salvation.

I grew up in a Christian household. We went to church most every Sunday, and I learned all the old bible stories about Noah and Jonah and Daniel and David. I knew about God, and the birth of Christ, and His crucifixion and resurrection. But I went to a community church in middle of nowhere Stockton: non-denominational, filled with a bunch of old ladies, an out-of-tune choir, and a service that would put you to sleep on Sunday morning. This a complete contrast to the fire and brimstone preaching style of televangelists.

In class, the description of Tent Revivals reminded me a lot of this late-night televangelist I saw. At these tent revivals, the preacher would pour all his energy and emotion into his message, and make bold declarations about the state of your soul if you did not listen to him and heed his advice, which had come directly from a divine being. Both the preacher, and those in the audience would be overwhelmed with emotion, and many times claim to see divine visions. There were times even when audience members present at these revivals would be overcome with the presence of the Lord, and faint. In many ways, these tent revivals were less like church services and more like over-the-top performances. Isn't that what many of these televangelists are doing, putting on a performance to make a buck? I have no doubt that many of these television preachers are believers in what they preach, but by putting themselves on television and in front of an audience, it seems to take away some of the authenticity of the message and turn it more into a public spectacle.

And then, of course, are the "magic cure-alls" that according to the reading, peddlers would sell at these Tent Revivals (as well as at medicine shows) that they claim would solve all your problems. They relied on influence over the spectators at these shows, in order to convince them that their products would work and provide a "magical transformation"...much in the same way that the revival preachers relied on their influence over the crowd to gain followers of their teachings. In this way, both peddlers are revivalist preachers were the gatekeepers between reality and the supernatural world, and they held the key that would unlock that passageway for the spectators.

Today, televangelists claim to have the same answers, preaching through the television set and then attempting usually to sell something--a book or a video, or even audio recordings--which offers spiritual advice, and which they claim hold the answer to salvation. (Somehow, I think televangelists have forgotten that the answer to salvation is in the Bible, but I digress...) They use their influence over their audience in order to sell their own "magical cure-all" product and make money off of desperate people searching for answers.

In this article, an episode of Richard Roberts' "The Place for Miracles" is being described where Roberts is asking his viewers to "plant a $1,000 seed" ...by buying a prayer cloth he prayed over that is meant to fix all your problems. It also links to a funny YouTube video that cuts this episode's clips with reaction shots from Star Trek. (Side note: Roberts was convicted of DWI in January 2012).

Here are some other crazy televangelist clips:


And sometimes...they use free offers to rope you in.



It is evident that the Tent Revival phenomenon has not died out, but has instead just moved to a different medium--television. These broadcasts, as well as shows like The 700 Club are, in my opinion, offensive to the religion. I feel like these so-called preachers aren't teaching anything, or inspiring people to become Christians--they are simply scamming people who have fallen for their schemes in hopes that they will find some magical fix for whatever problems they may be having.

I don't really know how to end this blog, so I'll leave you with this fantastic video of a preacher with his foot wayyy in his mouth:


...I love the internet.

Thursday, September 13, 2012

Blackface and Whiteface. Why, Bob Dylan?

I just gotta write this down so I don't forget. Maybe I'll come back to these thoughts at some point.

Today in my Romanticism and Music class, we were discussing Bob Dylan, and his 1970s "Love and Theft" project. Prof. Brady brought up Blackface minstrelsy and the reasons behind it. Besides being racially motivated and mockingly prejudiced, she also talked about the way that these minstrels, a lot of the time, tended to be some of the lowest of the low on the totem pole. And what is the way to make yourself better when you are at the low end of the food chain? Make fun of anyone who might be lower: in this case, the African Americans, both freed and slaves.

This discussion led into a video clip of Bob Dylan performing circa 1975 on his Rolling Thunder Revue tour. Revue? That sounds more like a carnival or variety show, not a tour. In this clip, Bob Dylan was singing "Tangled Up in Blue," complete with different lyrics, and he had put on Whiteface. Yes...Whiteface. What kind of statement could "The Dylan" have been making by putting on Whiteface in a show that came 10 or so years after he was booed off stage at the 1965 Newport Folk Festival for going electric? Also, keeping in mind that after his 3 song electric set in '65, he returned alone and played acoustic in order to appease the crowd.

Hmm...I have a whole mess of thoughts on this, none of which are organized enough for a blog post. I'll have to think on this and come back in a few days to make some connections.

So many of the concepts between these two classes are overlapping. I was pulling them together on Tuesday when we discussed spirit photography, the mysterious and a fascination with death. Oy.

Anyway, my assigned blog post is to come. Stay tuned. ^_^

In the meantime, have some Dylan. 

Saturday, September 8, 2012

Howdy, Partner...

I didn't really know what to expect in going to Bill's Gun and Saddle Shop. My mother knew exactly the place I was talking about when I mentioned the place, although she had never been there. When I mentioned it to my best friend, she excitedly told me that Bill's shop was the place she bought her first pistol. I, however, had no idea that the place even existed, even after living in this town for 22 years, and going to the Rodeo several summers in my childhood.

It was a cute little western town, although I suppose the towns in Buffalo Bill Cody's day were a little bigger...but what impressed me most was that saddle collection that Bill showed us. To think that there is a chance that one of those saddles was actually used in a Buffalo Bill show, maybe even by Annie Oakley...who knows what kinds of stories those other saddles could tell, if they could talk. I noticed the one I was standing in front of was dated 1870, and labeled "The Oldest Saddle I Have." There is over 140 years of history in that room of 100+ saddles.

I've always been kind of a local history geek, so when Lucile led us into her little western bank and told us that the wall behind her had been a part of the old Sinclairville bank, I felt my geek-alert going off. She showed us the old doctor's bag from Cassadaga, and I had heart palpitations. I know it sounds a little silly, but this place is home for me.

I thought the stagecoach was really neat, and the craftsmanship was really incredible. Lucile pointed out that their stagecoach was an Eastern style one, so I got curious about the difference between Eastern and Western style stagecoaches. Simply put, Eastern style stagecoaches were more structured, with hard sides, windows and usually a hard top. Western style stagecoaches were like the ones you see when playing the Oregon Trail (in which every member of my virtual family usually dies of diphtheria or smallpox before we reach our destination): they are more like the "covered wagon" style. There are many more distinctions depending on the job of the stagecoach or the type of terrain being traversed. There were several pictures, and some information here.

I only wish I'd had the opportunity to see them back in their hey-day when I was a kid. I like to imagine it being like a live episode of Bonanza, although Bill commented that Hollywood had really blown the western and cowboy culture way out of proportion, so their show was probably more historically accurate than Bonanza was. It was obvious that Bill and Lucile put a lot of thought and a lot of work into their little western town, and that above all, they really enjoyed the hobby and sharing information about the Wild West and Cowboy Culture with anyone who wanted to know.

I found a nice little write-up about Bill and Lucile, and their last show on the Observer's website.