Yeah, but even they are called the “White” Stripes
Posted on October 17, 2007 by David
Just in time for CMJ, Sasha Frere-Jones tells us that rock is a pastey ghost of its former self.
[I]n the past few years, I’ve spent too many evenings at indie concerts waiting in vain for vigor, for rhythm, for a musical effect that could justify all the preciousness.
How did rhythm come to be discounted in an art form that was born as a celebration of rhythm’s possibilities? Where is the impulse to reach out to an audience—to entertain? I can imagine James Brown writing dull material. I can even imagine the Meters wearing out their fans by playing a little too long. But I can’t imagine any of these musicians retreating inward and settling for the lassitude and monotony that so many indie acts seem to confuse with authenticity and significance.
Interesting thoughts but I don’t think it needed the autobiographical sketch.
» Filed Under Music, Turf Wars
