Author’s Preface
During the 1980s, while I was working
for five years on The Penguin Encyclopedia of Popular Music,
my friends and acquaintances assumed, according to what they knew about
music or about me, that I was working on a book either about pop music
or about jazz. The word ‘popular’ had long since been appropriated by
the post-Beatles industry that separates adolescents from their pocket
money; the first time I heard the term ‘pop music’ was from the lips
of the wonderful Welsh headmistress of a high school in south London
in early 1974, and her pronunciation of the phrase left no doubt about
what she thought of it.
Opera houses and symphony orchestras
are subsidized, and very few classical composers ever make a living
solely from their music. But there are no subsidies in popular music;
if you want to play jazz piano, rock drums or country guitar, or write
hit songs or sing on Broadway or form a pop group, you do not give up
your day job until you can make a living at it. Popular music includes
all the genres; we could also call it commercial music.
Popular music as a commercial enterprise
got under way in Britain in the eighteenth century, when for the first
time music publishers sprang up who published nothing but new songs,
hoping that people who had heard the songs in the pleasure gardens or
music halls would then buy the sheet music. It is now an international
business worth many billions of dollars a year, and the number of carriers,
from ‘personal stereos’ and piped-in music in restaurants to booming
rock in shops that sell jeans, is such that the stuff is inescapable.
Yet there is growing evidence that most of it could disappear overnight
and nobody would miss it.
Listening to music on network radio
was fun in the 1940s in the USA; by 1953 it was not much fun any more;
in the late 1950s for a while it seemed to be fun again (if you were
the right age), but nowadays serious music fans - the kind who buy records
regularly and hang on to them for decades, building up large collections
- no longer bother to listen to the radio much. This is because what
most people think of as popular music is dominated by technology and
chosen for us by lawyers and accountants who seem to be tone-deaf. The
music business has always chased fads and has always been dominated
by greed, but nowadays, like the US government, it is out of control
and would appear to be heading for the wall. This downward spiral is
assisted by the media. The reporting of the rest of the news, including
most of the arts news, may seem to have some connection with the real
world, but when it comes to popular music, even the so-called quality
newspapers devote pages to meaningless fads that follow one another
with dizzying speed. Take grunge, for example: grunge is doom-laden
pop-rock played by groups in Seattle, Washington, who dress in rags,
hence the name; the doomy feeling has been around in pop since the Velvet
Underground and young people have been dressing up in old bedspreads
for decades, yet grunge is all the rage as this is being written. By
the time this book is published grunge will have been left behind in
the fashion parade of pseudo-musical values.
I have written a survey of the history
of popular music because music has always been the most important thing
in the world to me; and because the time seemed right for such a survey.
Most popular music has always been second-rate or worse, but I listen
to recordings of it that have been made over a period of nearly a hundred
years, made for commercial reasons, speculatively, just like that eighteenth-century
English sheet music. It will always be true that the best stuff lasts,
but it does seem as though the music industry of today cranks out a
higher percentage of inferior product than ever before.
Each nation has popular music of its
own; I make no apology for concentrating here on the English-speaking
world, and especially the USA, because that is where the economic power
of the music business has been developed, until it now sells us an ocean
of factory-made music that sounds cheap, yet has to sell in the millions
before it breaks even. Today’s multi-national record labels are so desperate
that they will soon be trying to sell you their latest boondoggles whether
you live in Australia, Argentina or Azerbaydzhanskaya.
The British pop music press insists
that each new pop-rock act is going to sweep the world and become the
new Beatles. From 1984 to 1993, to name just the ones who were cursed
with the endorsement of Morrissey, formerly of The Smiths, there were
James, The Woodentops, Shop Assistants, Easterhouse, Raymonde, Bradford,
The Sundays, Phranc, Suede and Gallon Drunk. None have stayed the course.
I don’t run out and buy any of this stuff because I know that if the
music is any good it will find me, rather than me having to risk my
money on something that will almost certainly disappoint.
On the other hand, there may be cause
for hope: this book was underway in fits and jerks from 1987 to 1995,
and the music business is always restless, as though something good
has to happen sooner or later. The latest news from the USA in 1994
was that there had been a demographic upturn; the number of young people
is apparently growing again, and if this baby-boom will probably not
equal that of the 1950s, at least the customers will be there, and maybe
some of them will have some taste. And speaking of grunge, just when
the fuss over it seemed to be on the wane, the startling international
wave of grief at Kurt Cobain’s suicide in April 1994 revealed that some
people admired his lyrics as much as his dress sense. I will not name
any of the up-and-comers I might be mildly curious about, for fear that
my imprimatur will be a curse; but I am going to keep listening. In
any case, by the 21st century the pop-rock scene was so fragmented and
diversified that there had to be good music in all kinds of places,
for example in almost any bar in Austin, Texas. It's just that none
of it was in the charts.
The first people I have to thank are
the authors of all the books on my shelves in which I have gleefully
wallowed, in some cases for decades; they have guided and informed me.
(There is a bibliography at the back of this book which will be useful
as a guide to further reading.)
Chris Parker first commissioned the
present volume, when he was editor of the music book list at another
publisher; then Jon Riley at Viking took it on. Cal Morgan at St Martin’s
Press in New York liked the concept of the book so much that at first
he wanted it to be longer, which was impossible. They all offered valuable
suggestions and criticism; when it came to obtaining permissions to
print the song lyrics, Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller did the same. (None
of the other publishers cared what we said, as long as we paid them.)
David Duguid read the manuscript for Viking and did his usual wonderful
job of querying this and that. Meanwhile, Max Harrison, one of the best
writers and most rigorous critics of jazz and classical music I know
of, had agreed to read the first draft of the manuscript, even though
he doesn’t really agree with one of its premises, that jazz has been,
for most of its history, commercial music. Max gave that first draft
a line-by-line going over; and with all this help, a publishable book
seemed to have resulted.
A reader at a certain publisher in New
York also read the manuscript, and pronounced me an amateur, a nobody,
a bad writer, an anti-Semite and a gay-basher, and complained that I
loathed Elvis Presley. I was probably buying Presley records when he
was in diapers, but in his case, only his approval could in any way
have annoyed me. And, too, that reminds me that whether you like the
book or not, I alone am responsible.
September 1994 Norfolk, England
November 2001 Austin, Texas
Acknowledgements
The publishers would like to express
their thanks to the music publishers who have given their permission
to reprint the following lyrics:
‘Some of These Days’ (Brooks): by permission
of Francis Day and Hunter Ltd, London WC2H OEA, and J. Albert &
Son Pty Ltd. Copyright @ 1910, Will Rossiter Pub. Co., USA.
‘After You’ve Gone’ (Layton and Creamer):
by permission of Francis Day and Hunter Ltd, London WC2H OEA, and Hal
Leonard Corporation. Copyright @ 1918 (renewed) Edwin Morris & Company,
a division of MPL Communications, Inc. All rights reserved.
‘I Get a Kick Out of You’ (Porter),
‘I Wish I Were In Love Again’ (Hart), ‘Settin’ the Woods on Fire’ (Rose),
‘Stormy Monday Blues’ (Walker), ‘Blue Monday’ (Domino and Bartholomew),
‘Desperadoes Waiting for a Train’ (Clark), ‘Express Yourself’ (Wright):
by permission of International Music Publications Limited. Copyright
@ Warner Chappell Music Ltd, London W1Y 3FA.
‘Cool Drink of Water Blues’ (Johnson):
by permission of Peermusic (UK) Ltd, London WC1. Copyright @ 1929 Peer
International Corporation, USA.
‘I Won’t be Home No More’ (Hank Williams,
Sr): copyright @ 1952 (renewed) Hiriam Music & Acuff-Rose Music,
Inc. All rights on behalf of Hiriam Music administered by Rightsong
Music, Inc. All rights reserved. Used by permission.
‘Low Down Blues’ (Hank Williams, Sr):
by permission of Acuff-Rose Music, Inc. Copyright @ 1954, renewed 1982.
All rights reserved.
‘It Wasn’t God Who Made Honky Tonk Angels’
(Miller): by permission of Peermusic (UK) Ltd, London WC1. Copyright
@ 1952 Peer International Corporation, USA.
‘Well, You Needn’t’ (Monk): by permission
of Mautoglade Music Ltd. Copyright @ 1961 Regent Music Corporation.
‘Long Tall Sally’ (Johnson, Blackwell
and Penniman): by permission of Peermusic (UK) Ltd, London WC1. Copyright
@ 1956 Venice Music Inc., USA.
‘Tutti Frutti’ (Penniman, La Bostrie
and Lubin): by permission of Music Sales Ltd. Copyright @ 1955 Venice
Music Inc., USA. ATV Music for the UK, Eire, British Commonwealth (excluding
Canada and Australasia) and the Continent of Europe. All rights reserved.
International copyright secured.
‘Summertime Blues’ (Capehart and Cochran):
by permission of Campbell Connelly & Co. Ltd and International Music
Publications Ltd.
‘Shake, Rattle and Roll’ (Calhoun):
by permission of Campbell Connelly & Co. Ltd and International Music
Publications Ltd. Copyright @ Warner Chappell Music Ltd, London W1Y
3FA.
‘Movie Magg’ (Perkins), ‘Blue Suede
Shoes’ (Perkins), ‘Honey Don’t’ (Perkins): by kind permission of Carlin
Music Corporation, UK administrator.
‘Yakety Yak’ (Jerry Leiber and Mike
Stoller): by kind permission of Carlin Music Corporation, UK administrator,
and Warner Chappell Music, Inc. Copyright @ 1958 (renewed) Jerry Leiber
Music, Mike Stoller Music, and Chappell & Co. All rights reserved.
Used by permission.
‘Too Much Monkey Business’ (Berry):
by permission of Mautoglade Music Ltd. Copyright @ 1956 Arc Music Corp.
‘Firewater’ (Hancock): copyright @ 1991
Rainlight Music (ASCAP)/administered by Bug Music. All rights reserved.
Used by permission.
‘Senor Aka Tales of Yankee Power’ (Dylan):
copyright @ 1978 by Special Rider Music (ASCAP). Used by permission.
Untitled (2 Live Crew): by permission
of MCA Music Limited.
Every effort has been made to contact
all copyright holders. MusicWeb will be pleased to make good in this
space any errors or omissions brought to our attention.
