1. ASHLEE AND AUTHORSHIP
Funny that as I seem to be arguing against authorship in the film realm in the context of digital media projects, I seem to be arguing FOR recognition of artist authorship in the “corporate” pop realm—more specifically, fighting off some of my indie-devoted friends as they attack Ashlee Simpson (and others).
First, a few facts: Ashlee Simpson co-writes her songs with Kara DioGuardi (songwriter) and John Shanks (producer), who form a sort of trio of authorship. To my understanding, Simpson concerns herself with lyrics, DioGuardi with lyrics and music, and Shanks with production—the relationship is likely semi-fluid, with some equal input into each aspect in this triangle. This sort of relationship can be seen in many teen pop artists’ work, including Aly and AJ, the Veronicas, Lindsay Lohan, Kelly Clarkson, etc.
I’ve been arguing, obviously drawing heavily from other critical sources, that what can be seen in the realm of teen pop now (and arguably for the past ten years—yeah, I’m late to the party, but it still seems kind of sparsely attended even now!) is a (re)turn to the mode of pre-Beatles pop in the Phil Spector/girl group vein, with (perhaps—my sense of history is still admittedly lacking here) more input from the performing artists, whose role traditionally has been to advance a constructed persona, not act as author.
I attempt to discuss this through the lens of “manufactured music” in this article. Unfortunately, my thoughts in this essay are half-formed at best and my evidence is spotty—essentially I’m distinguishing between consciously manufactured acts (like the Archies) and audience-projected manufactured acts who have some control over their music and image but are (I argue, arbitrarily) held to standards of authorship that are unfair and contextually inappropriate (i.e. the Monkees). What’s interesting about this distinction is that the initial backing of both bands, Kirshner and Brill-based writers and producers, positions both artists/groups within the same system of production.
The “21st century girl groups” (to quote Marc Hogan’s “Self Portrait” essay again) find themselves in a tricky space between manufactured and non-manufactured—they have input in their own image and music that may have been unavailable to many Brill, bubblegum, and girl group performers of the 1960s, but are currently held to harsher and more hypocritical standards of “authenticity” than have ever been widely held. I suspect that the selective consumer model that privileges “independent music” as somehow more valid than mainstream pop—a definition that itself is changing and mutating incredibly quickly—is partially to blame here; "conscientious" consumerism in pop music (indie affirmative action!) often ignores the structural reality that much if not most “indie” is niche-marketed pop that falls under the same institutional categories as, say, Skye Sweetnam (who now shares a label with the Decemberists).
As much as it seems to contradict my understanding and opinions of global economic and political issues, I think that a certain structural flattening of critical consideration of all pop music (even given certain gains, like the success of “Since U Been Gone” and other pop songs in previously independent/alternative purist channels) is necessary in order to “adequately listen” (to paraphrase Ola Stockfelt...hm, I suppose I’ll miss undergrad college after all…) to artists like Ashlee Simpson, whose image is consistently used to dismiss critical engagement with her music.
Ashlee Simpson adheres to the same (problematic) model of songwriting “authenticity” as many of her indie counterparts. I juxtaposed the Stooges’ “1969” and “Dancing Alone” to explore the idea that Ashlee and Iggy aren’t that far off in the ways they perceive themselves and the world around them in the midst of post-adolescence through their music. Iggy says “oh my and boo hoo,” a juvenile (but weirdly profound, or at least viscerally accurate) reaction to transition into adulthood that admits a tendency to cling to adolescence with every ounce of strength.
Ashlee similarly uses an ambiguously defined relationship (whoever is referred to in both songs' subject, "you") to evocatively portray the unique loneliness that accompanies post-adolescence-going-on-adulthood. A friend dismissed her lyrics as simplistic, but I argue that there is as much truth in Ashlee’s simple, seemingly trite observations as there is in any number of indie artists whose esoteric lyrical impulses (the Shins model being a reductive but appropriate reference point) belie the fundamental childishness of post-adolescent angst.
The key is context, and I don’t deny the power of indie artists in the area of post-adolescent angst, I only argue that Ashlee deals with the same subject in her own effective way. I was immediately drawn to Funeral because of its juvenile playfulness and because of its articulate and evocative depiction of kicking-and-screaming maturity. People weep (oh my, boo hoo), they escape into the snow, they hole themselves away in their rooms and construct morbid, silly vampire narratives, they tear up the streets, they flat-out WAIL (“Wake Up”)—anything to avoid the apparent coldness of adulthood. The Sunset Tree is an album that uses gorgeous poetic language and verse to depict this same dilemma between childhood and adulthood and the transition from one to the other (specifically through an abusive childhood and adolescence). So do, in their own ways, Blueberry Boat and Separation Sunday.
I Am Me deserves to be discussed in the same vein (if my premise of shared themes is founded) as these albums. The difference is, Ashlee expresses herself in the moment as she experiences it, and is prone to the occasional heart-on-sleeve cliché and inarticulateness that this might suggest. But she’s also a lot more fun and honest from the present—and, as I’ve stated before, her particular trauma is VERY PUBLIC. Presumably, John Darnielle would not have written “This Year” as the young man drinking Scotch and pounding on an arcade machine, nor would he be expected to—context is key. Ashlee is drinking Scotch (in McDonalds, I guess) right now and kicking the proverbial Coke machine with Skye, who went through this stuff two years ago (and will probably go through it again in another two years or so down the road).
2. RADIO DISNEY MUSINGS Mk. 1,000,000
I’m still trying to organize an article on Radio Disney for Buzzsaw, but find myself paralyzed by the possibilities of the undertaking. Here are a few of my questions:
1) What role do Disney and Hollywood Records have on the introduction of material to Radio Disney, and how much power legitimately belongs in the hands of consumers (the kids)?
I asked Mike Saunders about the dominance of Hollywood Records in the RD Top 30, and he helpfully reminded me about the democratic call-in/online process through which songs are selected (via “pick it or kick it” on the weekly Music Mailbag)—which, as far as he knew, was not tampered with by Disney programming directors. He reminded me that a better line of inquiry would be in the introduction of material to the general playlist, i.e. which songs are selected to be picked or kicked. I tried to imagine RD as a Milton Friedman-like model community of neoclassical economics in action, but this theory was pretty much shot down by a friend who knows a lot more about this stuff than I do…she maintains that participation in the RD system isn’t exactly based on market forces (maybe if the playlist was determined by purchasing instead of voting, this model might kind of hold, but not really).
In truth, Radio Disney is more of a totalitarian capitalist system, in which a “benevolent” corporate entity provides structures for consumers (Disney kids) to choose from. Within the context of the Disney corporation market “space,” you can vote and participate in a democratic system, and the “best” music will “naturally” take its place at the top of the socioeconomic hierarchy. Another friend pointed out that this sounds a lot like fascism, which is an intriguing idea I’m not going to explore right now. Other areas of exploration include whether or not textual diversity is truly a myth in this system (how homogenous is the Radio Disney playlist in comparison to Top 40 radio, for instance?).
A problem that arises from the Radio Disney model (whatever that is) is that Disney has a clear monopoly on teen pop. If Hollywood Records artists saturate the RD market, it’s as much because of Disney’s complete control of said market as it is the relative lack of stable competition from other companies. As Saunders points out, other Top 40 artists tend to do about as well on RD as they do on Billboard. This is a result of the combination of Disney’s overall influence on what material its audience is exposed to (the monopoly factor) and the legitimate lack of competition in the field.
During the emergence of teen pop in the late 90s, the Jive label was instrumental in proliferating much of the most important teen pop music. However, Jive seems not to have adequately supported many of its artists with the thoroughness (and Big 5 media conglomerate advertising clout) of Disney’s subsidiary label; perhaps artists like Hoku and No Secrets would have longer and more productive careers on Disney. Hilary Duff, Jesse McCartney, and Aly and AJ (and Devo?) will continue to record as long as Disney is willing to push them, and the corporation’s advertising influence on the 6-14 crowd is pretty much unchallenged. Despite major advances by Disney in the area of anonymous studio constructions—notably the recent High School Musical phenomenon—brand recognition is still in their long-term economic interests. I predict that a HSM alum will have a modest breakthrough as a Disney-backed solo artist (“Zac Efron” is already one of the most popular searches that brings up this site on Google).
From what I can conclude, as long as you can accept the corporate-controlled so-called democratic arrangement of Disney’s production and distribution of teen pop (which, in a sense, you have to accept in all mainstream pop music, and even a lot of so-called “indie” music), Radio Disney is pint-sized free market (but not really) democracy in action. Scary and exciting and totally fucked up—just like the world!
2) To what extent are Disney-produced and distributed artists, including the Top 40 crossovers outside the corporate umbrella, reflecting the attitudes of their audience and to what extent are they influencing them?
Of course this is a very tricky proposition in itself. The domestic effect model of audience engagement with media (mmm, Global Hollywood…), is essentially based on the (false) assumption that general audiences should be conceived as impressionable children sensitive to the messages presented to them in their media. Or to quote directly:
[The DEM] is universalist and psychological. The DEM offers analysis and critique of such crucial citizenship questions as education and civic order. It views the screen as a machine that can either pervert or direct the citizen-consumer. Entering young minds osmotically, it can enable or emperil learning and drive the citizen to violence through aggressive and misogynistic images and narratives.
So what if the audience members are actually impressionable young children? Perhaps if teen pop truly encompassed literal teenagers, this wouldn't be as much of an issue; however, the fact that the producers and disseminators of teen pop essentially no longer admit teens into demographic consideration (that demographic again is 6-14) may change the DEM-based argument. Is it possible to listen to any, or all, music being directed at preteens (although even the blanket term "tween" may be increasingly useless as this demographic shifts younger and younger into childhood...are six-year-olds really tweens?) as a social, political, or cultural influence on development?
The most fascinating example in this case is still Aly and AJ for me, who might be portraying a commonly held fear of the outside world in some of their songs. But the songs are not exclusively written by Aly and AJ—some of the material is written by the duo’s mother, who as a responsible parental influence should probably have her daughters READ some of the Missing Children information they’ve manipulated to both express their own fear and (consciously or not) terrify their young audiences with paranoid fantasies that ideally should be challenged, not perpetuated. But this could even be applied to artists like Kelly Clarkson, who conveys desolation and despair effectively to children who may both relate to and be influenced in some way by the lyrics of some of her songs (Clarkson’s separation from the Disney production system and an exclusively child-oriented audience kind of undercuts this argument).
Are kids really “growing up faster,” as has been suggested, or are they being “grown up” faster, to more efficiently consume what Disney has to offer (and stay indoors at all times!)? I would guess that the first proposition is more likely than the second, if there’s any validity at all to the second proposition, which I’m not convinced there is. Besides which, Radio Disney is a comparatively tiny niche to the rest of the culture industries, and the rest of the Disney corporate entity. If it has any major direct influence at all on the actions or opinions of its audience (which itself is arguable), it’s still the media channel that has the smallest scope of influence.
3) Can a distinction be made between “manufactured” and “authentic” sentiment or lyrical imagery on Radio Disney?
Again I would ultimately argue no on this one, but it’s worth exploring. Taking “Because of You” (which just happens to be playing in the background of the coffee shop at the moment) as an example: what is the role of conscious image construction in the way that specific lyrics are absorbed by a general audience? A common trope of pop criticism is that lyrics are essentially unimportant. I think this is a dismissive and misguided assumption, though overemphasizing and misreading pop lyrics can be equally misguided, and I've certainly overblown and misread my fair share of pop lyrics. However, with Kelly Clarkson, lyrics are of crucial importance; we are presented with some really harrowing ideas and imagery, and they simply can’t be dismissed at face value.
But to what extent are these ideas consistently dismissed? I know that friends and family can sing this song by heart, and it seems destined to be a karaoke staple—but who has really engaged with the lyrics critically? This isn’t to critique the lyrics; I actually think it’s one of her most powerful songs. I’m posing the question of whether or not lyrical content is lost on audiences when said content is presented in the guise of mainstream pop, whose lyrics are often dismissed altogether simply for being conveyed in a Top 40 venue.
So no, I don’t think a distinction can be made between the construction and authenticity (in fact, I would argue that all lyrics, like all narratives, are constructions). Building on this premise, it seems important to critically analyze the content of the songs that Radio Disney chooses to play, and, more importantly, those songs that Disney chooses to produce but not play. Any discourse on Radio Disney should include thoughtful discussion of the songs that are not chosen for rotation, but are included on Hollywood and other Disney labels.
Not sure if this needs to be said explicitly, but this is in no way an argument for censorship of any kind, I’m just pointing to a discursive area that seems under- (or, simply, not) explored or theorized in the few pieces I’ve read on teen pop and Radio Disney.
3. CONFESSIONAL BUBBLEGUM
Is this an oxymoron? If we can accept that many teen pop artists are working in a directly confessional mode based on personal experience (not to say this is “more honest,” “more true,” or “more authentic” than any other songwriting mode, but that it is valid and worthy of serious critical examination), then how does the artist image construction add to, detract from, complement, or negate the confessional aspect of the music?
The line is blurred with artists like Britney Spears, whose artist image has evolved along with her aesthetic (I suppose this argument could have been put forward throughout Madonna’s career as well), but there is also an increasing number of teen pop artists using certain indices of confessional “authenticity” (see the above photo for a nice, particularly loaded visual index to, quite literally, confession; these cues can be translated to various musical affects as well, though I won't try to clarify specifics in this post) to develop a conflicted pop persona: the legitimate artist whose projected pain is purportedly derived from real experience.
These include Lindsay Lohan, Avril Lavigne, Michelle Branch, Ashlee Simpson, Aly and AJ, Kelly Clarkson, even a few songs by Hilary Duff. This has more or less been Ashlee’s M.O. from the start, but Lindsay Lohan adopted this persona more recently, hinted at in “Rumors” but spelled out much more explicitly on RAW, which may overshoot the “real-life authenticity” mark and enter flat-out unpleasant territory. The appropriate phrase might be THERAPY EXHIBITIONISM, which is not the same thing as drawing from personal trauma to create compelling pop (although the biggest flaw of RAW is that the songs aren’t any good).
The Veronicas (and to a lesser extent Aly and AJ) exist in an ambiguous gray area between straight bubblegum (right now the exemplar is probably Crazy Frog, one of the few legit manufactured pop creations on the market) and real-life confessional. (I should reiterate at this point that I’m using “real-life” as a signifier of a trend or mode of songwriting that evokes direct, relatable adolescent life experience.) Bratz could probably be included here, although most of the lyrics are based on self-help tropes and familiar celebrity fantasies (“So Good”).
There’s not really an argument against the validity of confessional bubblegum as a genre, as I implied before to justify my growing aversion to the Veronicas album. In fact, much of the 60s girl group and one-hit wonder acts were doing just that. Issues that connect with young people have changed significantly, as has the demographic range of music consumers. A systematic exploration of contemporary issues that connect with the 6-14 audience (as opposed to maybe the 15-20 audience, which I would assume was the pop audience norm of the 1960s), why they connect, and how these issues are manipulated and conveyed by both producers and artists are all underrepresented areas of study.
4. THE TEEN POP ENCYCLOPEDIA
This is still at the conceptual starting gate at this point, with some preliminary research finished. Essentially, I would like to start a major, systematic study of the genre of teen pop from c. 1995 to present. This would necessarily encompass several artists prior to the vague starting date (notably Ace of Base to include the emergence of Denniz Pop, Max Martin and Cheiron studio as well as late-80s/early 90s progenitors). It would also encompass key producers, writers, and studios. Tracking production teams rather than individual artists makes the genre much easier to define and map out, and I’m currently working on compilations that focus on songwriters and producers (first comp: Andreas Carlsson)—eventually I think that a Back to Mono-style teen pop collection of Max Martin or John Shanks or any number of writer/producers will be historically valuable.
If you’re reading this and are interested in this project, email me and we can talk. Right now I’m trying to convince my friends that I haven’t gone crazy, but I have faith that there is a significant critical audience for an undertaking like this.
OK, that’s enough for this epic post. Apologies to those of you hoping for more Tik ‘n’ Tak to add to your collection. (Hey, if anyone has a full version of Toy-Box’s Fantastic, you should contact me pronto! Who wants to lobby to get this, along with albums like We Didn’t Say That!, back IN PRINT?)
FINAL WORD: RADIO DISNEY IS NOW STREAMING TO THE INTERNET! BIG NEWS!
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