Speaking of which, where is it?
One time, not long ago, I made a statement, an accurate statement, “there is no honesty in the world anymore. . . . . except for rock and roll” and I still feel, in my gut, that this could be true.
But a problem rears its ugly head. Where is rock and roll?
Yeah, I know, the heavily distorted guitars playing “power chords” with vocals absent of melody and a somewhat rhythmic staccato double bass drum delivery is now considered rock. I know that pop is considered a different animal than rock. I know that rap and hip hop are considered different, and I know that there are so many genres now that one is boggled.
No wonder the music industry is going down the drain.
And that is the key. It is an industry.
No art, no creativity, no heart, no feeling, no meaning?
Well, no meaning aside, the point here is that rock and roll as an expression of wild abandon and a lust for life has been reduced to a sort of punctuated reflection of what once was.
No sentimental attachment here, but I wonder about life after Cobain. At least we have OED.