Dead Celebz

Death, in and of itself, isn’t tragic – it’s inevitable, and one of the only things that truly everyone on earth has in common. We view it as a tragedy because of the ways it impacts our own lives. We typically don’t mourn the loss of people we don’t know, whether they live down the street or across the globe, because it doesn’t change the way we live on a day to day basis. But when we lose a loved one – even a pet – it devastates us because it forces us to change and confront our lack of control. The impact artists and public figures can have on people they don’t know, simply by way of their talent, can be profound. Because their work takes on a meaning that’s specific to your experience and makes you feel like you know them, even though they’ve never actually participated in your life, it makes sense that an artist dying could have an emotional impact on you. That said, over the past few years, some aspects of public reaction to celebrity deaths have caused me confusion and surprise.

The issue initially struck me upon the death of Michael Jackson back in 2009. This particular death had a lot of subplots because Jackson had become such a different character than the one he initially became famous for. The Michael Jackson we loved – the cultural icon who entertained us better than anyone else and transcended the boundaries of race, gender, sexuality, and genre for nearly all of his first 35 years (the Jackson 5 were signed to Motown Records when Michael was 10) – had already been all but dead for nearly 15 years before he overdosed on anesthesia medicine. That beloved figure was replaced by an equally confusing, disturbing, and reclusive one, defined by the strangeness of excessive plastic surgery, short, hard-to-believe marriages to Elvis Presley’s daughter and his “dermatology nurse,” living in an amusement park, and allegedly molesting children. The closest thing to an MJ comeback was the 2001 single You Rock My World which – ironically – didn’t. By that time, whatever hope anyone had that the “old Michael” would ever reemerge was gone.

I know it sounds callous, but when I heard that Michael Jackson died I felt relieved. His death allowed us to refocus on the great things he accomplished without having to worry about the other stuff – the damage that had been done to him, and that he’d likely perpetuated onto others. For years prior to his death, we were all faced with the conflict of knowing we’d already lost the man who made that great art, but still seeing this “white ghoulish creature” in the news every now and again, reminding us of his tragic fall. Upon his death, we were finally able to resolve that conflict. At last, we could walk down memory lane without tripping on a reminder of the ugly present. In a sense, death was the only redemption left for him.

The aspects of public reaction to MJ’s death that surprised me most were how truly sad people seemed (given his eroded creative relevance), how long the public mourning continued (given the time that had already passed since his discomforting transformation became the status quo), and the subsequent outrage at the revelation that his death had come at the hands of a negligent, irresponsible physician. To be clear, Conrad Murray was undoubtedly practicing outside the realm of legal and ethical medicine and deserves punishment for that … but Michael made himself an addict. Nevertheless, it felt like in order to fully forgive him we needed him to be the victim of someone else‘s villainy. That distinction should probably have fallen more on his abusive father Joe, but confronting Joe’s impact would have brought us back to Michael’s fall, which we were eager to forget.

The most recent celebrity death of international note was Whitney Houston. Like Michael Jackson’s death, there was more to the public mourning of Whitney than just the loss of a transcendent, beloved artist because she had also publicly fallen from grace. However, unlike Michael’s, her death was not surprising because of her widely known drug use – and it didn’t feel like a relief. You’d think there would be some element of that, given how tortured a person must be to require constant medication in spite of their seemingly ideal circumstances (fame, fortune, talent, beauty, etc.) But with Whitney and others (i.e. Aaliyah, Kurt Cobain) the tragedy of their death was that their potential – and our ability to enjoy that potential – went unfulfilled. Though Whitney was further along in her career than the other two, she was still young enough for us to imagine her exorcising her demons and making a triumphant comeback that could be sustained into old age (see Aretha Franklin). The fact that it will never happen compounds sadness with disappointment.

To me, the strangest commonality of Michael Jackson and Whitney Houston’s deaths – which probably says more about our current relationship with the idea of celebrity than anything else – is the fact that their memorial services were televised productions. In today’s culture, the expectation of celebrities is that every aspect of their life is subject to broadcast for our entertainment – this is never clearer than when one dies. In both Michael and Whitney’s cases there was an unsavory, fairly transparent implication that their death was an unmatchable financial and PR win for everyone else who held a stake in their success. This not only highlights the greed and shamelessness of show business, but serves as a reminder of the divide that “celebrity” causes between entertainers’ BRANDS and their identity as human beings. To watch a brand flourish (MJ was the top-selling recording artist of 2009) at the literal expense of the human life that birthed it – is bizarre and disturbing. Moreover, assuming these human beings did have anyone in their life left who truly loved them separate from their public accomplishments, I’d imagine those people would feel their opportunity to appropriately mourn and appreciate them had been soiled.

I think this is the aspect of reaction to celebrity deaths that  gives me the most trouble – I feel uncomfortable with the public display of sadness at the loss of someone you didn’t know. The reason it feels weird to me is that in most cases your relationship with an artist or public figure after their death is no different than when they were alive. The piece of them that you loved – their art, music, words, or impactful actions – will live on forever, and in most cases in a way that you can continue to enjoy and relate to just as you always have. While it makes sense to feel attachment to them, to react to a stranger’s passing as if you knew them trivializes the mourning of the people who actually did know them, the mourning of people you actually knew, and the mourning of people who died in more honorable pursuits.

When I die, I hope the people I’ve known and loved remember me fondly. I hope they’ll gather together in consolation of each other and in remembrance of my virtues. I hope they’re willing to overlook my flaws, if only for a while. Though it sometimes makes me uncomfortable, I also understand that a celebrity’s death is often the only opportunity people take to truly pay tribute to them – to celebrate their body of work, their impact on others, and to forgive them of their inevitable missteps in work or in life. I know that ultimately that’s a positive thing, but it might feel even more positive if we all made it a point to show appreciation of each other’s gifts and accomplishments – and tried harder to forgive each other of our faults and struggles – while we’re still here.

The Death of The Music Industry

Over the last few years I’ve heard a lot of discussion of “THE DEATH OF THE MUSIC INDUSTRY.” I’m a musician, but I’ve never been in the position where the music I’ve made was the source of my financial livelihood – it’s always been something I do for my own creative satisfaction, so my opinions on the matter are pretty idealistic. For me, putting out music for free has been the best way to ensure that it is heard by as many listeners as possible so that your audience can grow and eventually there will be enough demand that you can charge for your product. Since youtube, Pandora, file-sharing, and all the other ways that people acquire their musical/cultural fixes for free have become prevalent, I’ve landed pretty firmly on the side of the consumer. That is to say, “GOOD! Technology has made this art free – let THE INDUSTRY figure out another way to make money off of it.”

My Dad’s girlfriend, Diane, works in the advertising world. While visiting them recently, I was explaining that I’d released my album for free and was extolling the exaggerated belief that ALL music should be free – until Diane asked me a question that made me think.

“So if I use one of your songs in a commercial, I shouldn’t have to pay you for it?”

It’s funny how your stance on a scenario can depend so heavily on who you’re picturing in your mind as the characters. In my imagination, I was the consumer and some famous zillionaire rock star signed to a label that’s part of a guhjillion dollar corporate conglomerate was the product. They were already rich, and the fact that they’d expect anything at all from a regular dude like me seemed greedy. But in Diane’s scenario, the big corporation was the consumer, and the regular dude was the product – and let’s be clear, if she said she wanted to put one of my songs in a commercial, I’d try and get as much cash out of the deal as possible. So I realized, all it boiled down to was “corporations have too much money and individuals have too little, so the money and stuff should go where it’s needed.”

On the other hand…

I have lots and lots of friends who are musicians.  Most of them, like me, essentially make music for fun. But this year, for the first time, one of those friends has “made it” as a musician. In my younger days, the idea of “making it” meant buying your first mansion, driving a monster truck, marrying a Victoria’s Secret model and playing Arena shows. As a 30-year old, my idea of “making it” has changed. It’s still pretty sweet, actually. “Making it” means quitting your day job.

My friend’s band, who has been toiling in relative obscurity for nearly 10 years, has received recognition in the past year or two to the extent that they now play music -THEIR music – for a living. They tour the country, they are signed to a record label, they get guaranteed payments from the shows they play, and they are adored by thousands of attractive 20-somethings. They are not rich. In fact, they’re probably kind of poor, in the greater scheme of things – but to me, they’re living the dream. I’m proud of them. I know how hard they worked, and how hard they continue to work, to get where they are – and of course, their music’s great.

So now I think of my original scenario with the downloading/file-sharing/free music acquiring … and it feels wrong. When I picture my friends deciding what they can afford to eat for dinner tonight before their 5th night in a row of driving across the middle of the country in a van and sweating through their shirts in front of drunk strangers, the idea of someone somewhere choosing not to pay them for their work makes me angry. Don’t they know hard it is to do what my friends are doing?!

But then I picture Lars Ulrich, the drummer of Metallica, kufillionaire rock star, standing on the steps of a courthouse insisting that the crooks who illegally downloaded their music – the same people who made them rich and famous in the first place – be arrested. It’s hard to feel sympathy for that guy, or anything besides “fuck him…they haven’t made anything good since Master of Puppets anyway” for that matter. But I guess I get where he’s coming from. He worked for it too.

Regardless of what’s right and what’s wrong, and who’s an asshole and who’s entitled to what, the death of the music industry isn’t just about the amount of money rock stars can make, but the quality of the music that’s being released.  I was listening to a podcast today by comedian Bill Burr. He was talking about being mocked  for buying a DVD of a famous Black Sabbath concert that is available for free on youtube. In his own defense, he said

“If something’s that great you should pay for it…[if you acquire it for free], you can’t bitch about music today…That’s what happened to music.  It all became free, the whole industry collapsed – granted, it was a piece of shit industry that was fucking people over – but it could guide you to some pretty amazing artists. As much as there’s always been the Justin Biebers – ‘cuz there has been – like I’ve always said, when the Beatles were making albums, so was Herman’s Hermits. When they were making Rubber Soul, Herman was in a fucking studio down the hall singing “Henry the 8th” – so nothing has happened to music. What’s happened is the music industry has changed. I don’t know how Pink Floyd would do it nowadays without some giant machine to let everybody know that you’re out there.”

It hadn’t occurred to me before that the amount of money the music industry made and the quality of the music they produced were related, but it makes sense. THE REASON there’s more shit on the radio is … Shit sells and it always has! The difference now is, the music industry seems less willing to take risks.  For every Nirvana – a truly outside the box anomaly who swept the masses despite their venom against the system they’d become a part of – there were a thousand knock-offs, almost weres, and could have beens. In a business sense, those are misses. Losses. To avoid the risk in a down time, the industry’s focused with dead aim on the bubble-gum demographic because they’ve been their most reliable and easily brainwashable consumers since forever. But that doesn’t mean great, innovative music isn’t being made anymore.

No matter who’s making money they didn’t have before or losing money they did, music isn’t dying. Anyone who chooses not to pick up a guitar or a keyboard or sing a note because they no longer see the music industry as a viable career choice can go screw – we never wanted them in the game anyway. I’m certain there are just as many people making music now as there have ever been – maybe even more, given the advent of readily available FREE recording technology, user-friendly music-hosting websites like bandcamp and soundcloud, and of course, social networking out the wazoo to spread the word. Nearly anyone can make an album and release it to the public. It should be a wake-up call to the corporate conglomerates pining for the salad days that musicians will always make music and everyone else will always listen to music, and that has nothing to do with money. The supposed death of the music industry hasn’t prevented today’s Pink Floyd or Nirvana from forming and beginning their creative ascent…you just have to look a little harder to find them.