So I was watching TV the other day. One of the big name music channels, though I won't say which one, and reading a guitar magazine. My attention was ripped viciously from the magazine by a single note. This sound, which emanated with all the confidence of a seasoned vocalist, from my TV, made me physically hurt.
The name of the band doesn't matter really. The fact is that there are many other bands out there like this. What was once a spot filled with people who were able,
had to be able, to belt it out or at least hit the notes, is now in turn filled with half experienced "vocalists" who would rather rush ahead and go beyond their means. Eschewing many hours of hard and strenuous practice, choosing instead to hawk their half-skills to the most likely paycheck, has become all too common in the once proud world of music.
Don't get me wrong, I can appreciate any contribution to the music community in one way or another. True, these artists are gettin their point across, conveying their heartfelt emotions. Well, some of them are. Others just hide behind the veil of the meaningful.
Or maybe I'm just cynical.
It's not only singers. Guitarists, once again infatuated with late 80's shred and thrash, pick and dive bomb beyond their ability. Rather than woodshed for a good amount of time and hone their skills, they run out fool-heartedly to try their hand at the game of speed. Or imitate someone else.
As a metal fan, I was whole-heartedly excited when the likes of Killswitch Engage, Lamb Of God, and Shadows Fall pierced the thick skin of moderately mainstream media. I applauded. As a guitarist myself, it was refreshing to see a group of guys who had ability on their instruments. Arpeggios, pentatonic licks, massive slides and divebombs. They take skill, no matter what we really think of showmanship. While I myself am not an advocate of gratuitous soloing, I can appreciate talent when I hear it.
Much to my shagrin, not even weeks later, the market had been fully saturated with bands who reeked of those three bands.
Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, true enough. But music is not standard. It is not the norm, the exception, or the rule. Music is the sum of four or five (or more, as Slipknot and numerous Jam Bands have shown us) independant minds that come together, forsaking their one track approach to music in the hopes of creating something more.
In the hopes of creating something new.
Where have our heroes gone, when Metallica hire a group therapist to sort out their arguments? Isn't a difference of opinions or tastes what sparks great and new things?
Where are the heroes when we can destroy a song that was just barely written at all because we have to play faster without putting in the hours?
Where have our heroes gone when a musicians life has become such a market commodity that there are bands pushed down our throats on TV and Radio, new in one week, and in the next gone just as quickly as they'd swooped in on a fabricated hope?
Where have our heroes gone now? I give you your answer.
Our heroes are in their parents' basements, in the attics and dingy clubs that stink of piss and beer. They're in the highschools and colleges. They're living at home and across oceans.
And they're waiting, just waiting, to find those other pieces that complement their one piece so well.
In hopes of an agreeance of minds, a meeting of tastes, a glimpse of the fantastic. In search of that one chord that leads to the next, and the next, and the next.
After all, who can better write the music we so desire, need, to hear...
But us ourselves?
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