I don't go out much anymore, and I suppose some would say I am not a part of "the scene," whatever it is supposed to be. I get almost all of my information about the outside world from the multimedia; at this point in my life, I experience the arts somewhat vicariously. I watch a lot of television in the evenings, and I get some of my best ideas while grazing on the tube. Last Monday night I was enjoying a Laurel and Hardy marathon on the movie classics channel. The film's name escapes me, but the boys were members of a traveling band of gypsies. Every other scene contained a musical number, and many were performed by most of the cast in an ensemble. My modern ear found the music dreadful and boring: Like Gilbert and Sullivan, it was simulated opera (I can't stand the real thing, either, unless it's Mozart). My husband remarked to me, "I can't believe people used to love this stuff."
It's true. Audiences used to flock to see choirs perform and dramatic musicals used to be a lot more popular than they are today. Nowadays the only place you'll see a choir is in church or on television on Christmas Eve. And only hardcore theater folk, relatives of cast members and blue-haired ladies go to musicals anymore. So what's changed?
Let me make a giant leap here for a moment. America was founded on a Constitution designed to preserve the rights of the individual. Nearly every article in it stresses the importance of freedom for each and every citizen. During the industrial revolution, while other countries were forming a socialist base for the good of all, America continued to push for individual liberties, first by ending slavery, and later by forming unions. At the time they were created, many thought unions were the beginning of socialism in the U.S., but they couldn't have been further from the truth. Union members pay dues so that they may preserve their quality of life and support those who will help them retain that quality. It's only true socialism when everything is shared equally by all.
During the middle of this century, the failure of socialism became imminent with the fall of (among others) Stalin. As we approach the new millennium, most countries that once operated in a socialist manner have admitted defeat and are rebuilding under capitalist ideologies. The few hold outs, Cuba and China among them, are so troubled economically and socially that most experts believe the demise of their political systems is only a matter of time. It would appear that capitalism has become the system of choice.
Not coincidentally, this century has also given rise to the superstar. Born in America, this concept originated in Hollywood during cinema's early days (names like Keaton, Valentino and Chaplin come to mind) before spreading to other venues. In music, the sound of big bands slowly gave way to smaller groups, and in the early 50s, rock 'n' roll was born. Within a decade, the orchestras of Glenn Miller and Lawrence Welk were ignored by the American youth, who favored the slick, gutsy sounds of Jerry Lee Lewis, Buddy Holly and, of course, Elvis. Each rocker stood out from the rest: There was no mistaking Chuck Berry for B.B. King; their skin color was about all they had in common. Even bands, who seldom contained more than five members, usually had a front man who stood above the rest as a leader or spokesman.
The 60s gave rise to the mass-marketing that would plague rock for decades to come. Concert posters became collectibles. T-shirts appeared carrying band names and logos. Suddenly, every teenager covered his or her bedroom walls with the faces of heroes: Jimi Hendrix, Jim Morrison and Janis Joplin became even bigger idols after they died. Captured on film, these stars stared out at their fans like gods in a temple. Their lyrics spoke for them, and the faithful could worship any time they turned on the stereo. In the glorification of the individual, we have supported our capitalist system by pumping money into the music merchandise machine. The star is a divine product and the communion is the exchange of money for that product. Of course, we're only exhibiting things we learned in school, where we were taught not to disrupt the group yet respect individual rights at the same time. What a paradox! On paper, the two ideas seem to clash, but this is the very juxtaposition that has made the entertainment and sports fields such huge money-makers. Without the star personality, these facets of our culture would just be diversions. Sure they'd still make money, but not like they do now.
Life is full of concepts that don't make any sense. This is only one of them. I don't expect you to stop buying albums or watching sports simply because I pointed out why they're such huge industries. I myself love football and eagerly anticipate the new R.E.M. and Neil Young records. We've all bought into this madness. But somehow understanding why we act like cattle makes being a member of the herd a little more contemptible. Moo.