When you turn on your favorite radio station do you find yourself asking: “What happened to music?”

Being a musician myself, I find myself asking these questions every time I listen to the radio. It’s gotten to the stage where, if I can help it, I just don’t listen to the radio at all.

 


When you turn on your favorite radio station do you find yourself asking: “What happened to music?”

Being a musician myself, I find myself asking these questions every time I listen to the radio. It’s gotten to the stage where, if I can help it, I just don’t listen to the radio at all.

Certain of the newer-music genres pride themselves on being angst ridden. If you need to make a conscious effort to exploit your angst, I’m betting more often then not you aren’t actually upset about anything but your album sales.

The fact punk music now has an image other than self expression is another casualty of the genre.

Real punk is not about the smudged, black eyeliner or the egg white mohawks.

It’s about standing for something, even when that something is not popular or culturally hip. Whether or not you have a lip ring or a tattoo of some skull should not automatically revoke your membership to the club.

Patti Smith and Lou Reed must be ashamed that a genre they helped build has descended into a slimy ooze of diluted pop-punk dribble.

An example of pop-punk would be Avril Lavigne. She is not punk no matter how many skulls she can manage to wear at once. Good Charlotte would also fall into the category of “enough, already.”

I refuse to accept pop punk as being a legitimate genre when it is, in fact, the bastard child of punk and pop.
Neither genre has been made better by this pairing of bubblegum and safety pins.

Iggy Pop is an embodiment of punk. He’s gritty, dirty and borderline psychotic. I would place The Who in a pre-punk category along with all of their musical and lyrical genius.

Leet is a reporter and can be reached for comment at reporter@wayneindependent.com.