Beyond the tracks

Interview, Oct, 1995 by Evelyn McDonnell

The word is generally considered to be a synonym for progressive politics and not for white flight. That was certainly its meaning in the musical community when it came into widespread use in 1991, after Lollapalooza demonstrated the mass appeal of acts that mainstream outlets had either ignored or ghettoized. One of that first Lollapalooza's salient features was a mix of cultural styles and genres that embraced Ice-T, the Butthole Surfers, Living Colour, and Nine Inch Nails. Alternative was seen as another form of hard-edged protest music in solidarity with rap and was welcomed by African-Americans as well as by whites. I realized this at a music-industry panel discussion held in San Francisco shortly after Lollapalooza '91 ended and at the time Nirvana's album Nevermind was breaking through. The two black women on the panel, one of whom worked in a record store and knew what people were buying, were excited about the alternative music they were hearing and asked the others if they thought it would take off. The white panelists, all academics and/or journalists, said no and within a month undoubtedly felt quite foolish.

In a way, though, they were right, because alternative music has had trouble living up to the promise of the first multifaceted Lollapalooza or the anger of Nevermind. Radio, with its demographic mentality, is largely to blame. The early "modern rock" stations played a narrow range of pop music descended mostly from British New Wave of the late '70s and early '80s, actually providing alternatives to album-rock stations, which played classic and hard rock. The huge success of grunge, with its crossover blend of punk and heavy metal, allowed modern-rock stations to spread into, and ultimately take over, album rock's turf. Now, at stations like New York's Z-100, you can hear everything from Soul Asylum to Bush to the Beastie Boys to Bon Jovi. Far from being leftist fringe music, alternative has enabled rock to redefine itself as a broader swath of pop encompassing every hip contemporary style not made for or by black culture.

The Offspring fans I talked with all learned about music from Z-100 and MTV. Ten to fourteen years old, they articulated their tastes with enthusiasm and innocence. "I like the music and lyrics," said Noah, ten, of the Offspring. "It's just awesome." "It's not too heavy, it's not too slow," said fourteen-year-old Amanda from East Brunswick, New Jersey, of the evening's fare. She hates Boyz II Men, whose music generally appeals to teenage girls, because, she said, they're "sappy" and "make me fall asleep." "Rap and R&B are boring," said Ben, twelve. "There's no instruments; they don't have any talent."

Not all of the kids have always felt this way. Russel, twelve, admitted that three years ago he was into hip-hop. Bill Scott, Ben's dad, said he was relieved when his son took up punk: "I spent years trying to talk him out of listening to rap." A Delta blues fan himself, Bill said he was concerned about the misogyny and violence in rap.

By becoming more extreme in its gangsta pose, rap may have indeed cut itself off from its younger fans. Kids love music that makes them feel like outlaws or rebels, but, in suburban New Jersey at least, they probably relate more to screaming along with the Offspring - "You stupid dumbshit goddamn motherfucker!" - than to rhymes about carrying Gats or smoking blunts and bitches. Teenagers are anxious to come up with their own identity, and music can play a large role in that. It's easy to see why the soulful stylings and fancy clothes of Boyz II Men might seem alien to a kid who's never heard doo-wop and hates dressing up. Like rockers who trashed disco in the '70s for being too slick and sleazy, alternakids are attacking rap and R&B on stylistic rather than racial grounds.

Of course, people who battle against racism know that actions reveal latent intentions. This is the principle on which many affirmative action programs operate; people can say they're not discriminating against black music, but they're not listening to it either. Kids are victims of the companies who want tastes divided along neat marketing lines - "white males, fifteen to twenty-three," for example. Even Lollapalooza has had trouble sticking to its original multiculti base. This year the Latino rappers of Cypress Hill and the ska-punk band the Mighty Mighty Bosstones (two of whose eight members are black) seemed like minor figures on a main stage with six white rock acts. The artists themselves are partially to blame for this whitewashing: Sonic Youth demanded that Beck, the Jesus Lizard, and Pavement join them on the bill before they'd play. The Village Voice reported that at a show in New York last winter, Courtney Love told the audience that her band, Hole, wouldn't play Lollapalooza "because of Snoop Doggy Dogg and Cypress Hill." She then asked, "Does that make me racist?" (She later recanted, and Hole was this year's biggest draw.) At another, earlier show, Love led the audience in a chant of politically incorrect words, including nigger.