I don't mean to boast, but not long ago, I made practical use of a status on Facebook. This is a relative claim, of course; I'm comparing the question I posed to the likes of 1.) “My ex-girlfriend is a vile harlot”* and 2.) “man im so high right now!” Now, I can't prove the status I submitted was more substancial than either of those two offerings, but mine garnered over 50 responses, whereas no one had a word to say to the jaded lover or the non-discrete stoner. The point is not that I am therefore cooler than anyone else, but rather, that my hunch about posting something relevant on FB has been supported by evidence. This essay functions in much the same way. I seek validations for what strikes me as truthful, but I don't offer very many indisputable facts. Considering the following question that I posed...how could I?
“I have a question about music. OBJECTIVELY speaking, it can be stated that either the Beatles or the Rolling Stones are the greatest British rock band. (Led Zeppelin and Pink Floyd can't quite match the magnitude of their predecessors.) Which band best qualifies as America's greatest? Not necessarily your favorite, mind you--and please dear God nobody say Fish** (sic).”
My hypotheses are that 1.) the indisputably iconic rock bands from Great Britain are vastly easier to acknowledge than their American counterparts, and 2.) America's most influential and monumental musicians are all solo artists. Less vitally, it's also fairly simple to identify the solo rockers from Great Britain who have left the most culturally significant legacy. The greater question that I want an answer to is this: Why does it seem so laughably dubious to try to name the American rock band that truly resonates the most? I can't even compile a plausible Top-5 that would be remotely satisfying—which is vexing since I'm inclined to do such a categorical thing. How can this be explained?
I received plenty of solid answers and, predictably, very few great answers. Some replied facetiously. (“Cheeseheads with Attitude,” “America, for fuck's sake,” and “If only Nickelback were born in the U.S.A....”) Others provided sincere replies that strike me as ludicrous. (“Rancid—debate over,” “The Strawberry Alarm Clock...no contest,” and “The Grass Roots?”) Not everyone gave an objective rather than subjective response. (You're one of my favorite people, Hootie McBoobs, but that band who rocked us so thoroughly at Summerfest, “the Black Keys”...they're just not a viable answer to the question.) One person answered, “The Beatles, obviously,” and I don't know her well enough to tell if she was serious or kidding. I got a kick out of another comment, “Definitely Grand Funk Railroad, now that I think about it,” because that would be Homer Simpson's answer and Grand Funk were at least effusively proud when they proclaimed themselves an American Band. Aside from Fish (sic), I was relieved nobody mentioned bands I think are both quite shitty and poor answers to the core question. (Sticks,*** REO Speedwagon, and Bon Jovi.) I was rueful when bands that don't appeal to me but nonetheless merit consideration were brought up. (Journey, Aerosmith, and Van Halen.) The most rational and insightful contributor included in his Top-5 Sonic Youth—a discordant indie-band that has mostly disdained mainstream appeal since their emergence in the mid-80s. This baffles me as much as it validates my initial hunch. I couldn't believe Lynyrd Skynyrd, R.E.M., and KISS were nowhere to be found in the debate. These three American rock bands combine for nearly 8-million “likes” on Facebook.**** Astonishingly, Metallica is more popular than all three of those bands COMBINED on the same site—and they were likewise absent. Maybe I need new digital pals to better reflect our culture's classification of a truly great American band. Maybe I should offer superficial friendship to a random weirdo solely because he has a Gene Simmons tattoo on his chest. These are the fake problems I conjure to make life even more troubling.
My premise that Led Zeppelin can't match the magnitude of the Beatles or the Rolling Stones was disputed. This is a minor quibble and a tangential challenge. Regardless of whether you prefer Led Zeppelin to the Beatles and/ or the Stones, don't overlook the fact that the Misty Mountain Hoppers were not a part of the British Invasion—probably the most momentous development in the time-line of rock 'n' roll. I will gladly concede that, in terms of impact, Led Zeppelin vaulted over less iconic British Invaders such as the Who and the Kinks. Led Zeppelin may very well earn the bronze medal in the debate across the Atlantic, and—all things considered—that is an astounding achievement. But no matter how much you adore raunchy but sometimes sentimental hard rock that verges on heavy metal, please, don't shit yourself: Led Zeppelin mean a lot, but the Beatles and the Stones unequivocally mean more. As the time elapsed after the watershed moment of said Invasion, the limitations of cultural impact became more restrictive. (This also helps explain why Black Sabbath, Queen, the Clash, and Cream—while superior in impact to the vast majority of American bands—aren't the most sensible answers, either.) Perhaps I should have restated it all this way: In an encyclopedia that chronicles a slew of rock bands, the Beatles and the Rolling Stones must have the longest, most thorough entries. Which American band warrants the longest, most thorough entry?
And by the way, I do realize that equating sexy things like rock 'n' roll and Robert Plant's acid-washed pants-tent to scholarly things like encyclopedias and footnotes sort of reduces the appeal of what I'm trying to embrace. What can I say? Don't be like me. Shit, I can barely pull it off. It's a daily challenge.
The second problem people had with my premise was far more exasperating. Vance Flerny, among others, completely disagreed with me that Chuck Berry and Elvis Presley qualify as solo artists. After I commented that both are subject to a different (and less ambiguous) debate, he retorted with the following:
“That's weak. They both played with bands. Neither one just hung out by himself and played on-stage. I would hate to be the one to tell the 'band' backing a so-called solo artist that they actually weren't a band at all—that the only person considered to be the artist was the front-man.”
To my chagrin, Richie Chipworth concurred.
“Yeah. Why are solo artists disqualified? It seems like an arbitrary distinction.”
I spewed an exhausted sigh and tried to explain that there is a clear difference between bands and solo artists with backing bands that typically feature a revolving cast of players. Golly, what a fucking lost cause that turned out to be. And so I'll have to elaborate. Being in a band is not the same as having a band. While the former phrasing designates a partnership, the latter implies prestige for one and the subordination of the others. Chuck Berry is the easiest to dismiss because he never had a definitive backing band. He required interchangeable bassists and drummers, but, in essence, the man behind “Johnny B. Goode” played with his own Ding-a-Ling. As for Elvis, Bob Dylan, and Johnny Cash, consider their album covers for tangible proof. NO MENTION of the Jordanaires, the Band, nor the Tennessee Three, respectively, is printed on any of the studio album covers the three collectively released. This info was reflected by Billboard charts that marked record sales and radio play. Credit, acclaim, and fortune came to them in vastly unbalanced proportions compared to what their backing bands received. Hence: the King, the Voice of a Generation, and the Man in Black qualify as solo artists.
Beyond that, it's senseless and grammatically incorrect to say something akin to, “Johnny Cash was such an incredible band.” Or: “The Beach Boys are my favorite musician.” Sweet Jesus, people. If I have to explain to literate adults the difference between singular and plural nouns, I'll be forced to pursue a career as a merchant of suicide machines.
Votes were cast for Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers as well as Bruce Springsteen and the E-Street Band. This is where it gets especially tricky. Explicit signs of prestige and subordination apply to both, but the line-ups of the Heartbreakers and the E-Street Band alike have remained (mostly) intact for over 35 years. Petty and Springsteen may be glory-hogs, but I think that's a major part of their American appeal, and furthermore, both are loyal glory-hogs who prefer not to play with interchangeable musicians. Does either qualify for the debate?
Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers were marketed and therefore qualify as a band because three crucial words, “and the Heartbreakers,” were printed on the record sleeves of You're Gonna Get It!, Damn the Torpedoes, Greatest Hits, etc. Bruce Springsteen, on the other hand, did not acknowledge the E-Street Band on the covers of Born to Run, Born in the U.S.A., Darkness on the Edge of Town, etc. The Boss also played every instrument on 1982's Nebraska, which is widely regarded as his best (and definitely saddest) album. The E-Street Band are very rarely recognized on Springsteen's album covers.
Therefore, the poor neurotic hack trying to clarify this clusterfuck deems that Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers are in fact an American band. Bruce Springsteen is ultimately an American solo act, though. If I was to assert that the distinction lies in the album covers, would anyone believe me? Vance Flerny and people of his ilk would not; I can only hope to sway others.
Maddeningly enough, though, Tom Petty released a few solo albums. In fact, three of his biggest singles, “I Won't Back Down,” “Runnin' Down a Dream,” and (oh, sweet lord, how the gruesome plot thickens) “Free Fallin'” are all included on 1989's Full Moon Fever. By my logic, those hits would have to be stricken from the band's legacy. Infinitely worse, Wildflowers was marketed as a solo album, too. That one featured “You Don't Know How It Feels” and “You Wreck Me.” I type infinitely worse because—get this—ALL THE HEARTBREAKERS, except for the drummer, played on Wildflowers. Petty is damn lucky he didn't cause a rift in the space-time continuum with that move.
More Stories, and Additional Stories. Who needs two packs of gum when they could purchase this eBook instead? Losers, that's who.
