The Nu-Normal #03: Is Rock No Longer Fun?
And is the death of the genre preferable to irrelevance?
Yesterday I sat down and watched Downfall’s High—yes, in full, all forty-nine, glorious, cringe-worthy minutes of it.
For those not in the know, Downfall’s High is Colson Baker’s (aka Machine Gun Kelly’s) latest celebrity endeavour: a feature-length musical that strings together all fifteen tracks from his #1 Billboard 200, fifth album and neo-pop-punk opus, 2020’s Tickets To My Downfall, with a grandiose narrative covering teen romance, death, escapism, suburban boredom, and ‘misunderstood’ outsider art.
It’s definitely a thing that exists, and it’s almost certain to be a revered cultural artefact for the time-travelling generations to come (and those already present and walking among us) who wish to understand exactly what life was like during The Year Time Disappeared Altogether. Speaking to Kerrang a few weeks ago, prior to posting the film to his YouTube channel, Baker described Downfall’s High as:
“Almost like shooting 14 music videos back-to-back, but with a narrative that’s outside of my personal life stories. It focuses on other characters, and then me and [Travis] are just the narrators.
It’s an interesting concept because it hasn’t been done for an album ever, maybe outside of like Pink Floyd’s The Wall.”
Despite completely skipping over Green Day’s mid-2000s punk-rock-opera epic “Jesus of Suburbia”—willfully or otherwise—the ‘Travis’ Baker refers to here is none other than Travis Barker, the 45-year-old drummer of pop-punk luminaries blink-182, producer of Tickets To My Downfall, and silent metronomic proxy for Baker’s high-school film antics.
Putting aside issues of sonic similarity to blink’s heyday back catalogue (the instrumental cribbing here is pretty shameless, sure, but it’s still undeniably catchy), and singing about teen romance from two 30-plus-year-old white dudes (and if that’s truly a deal-breaker for you, I’d ask what it is you’re really doing listening to pop-punk anyway?), Baker’s comments got me thinking about Pink Floyd’s aforementioned The Wall (1979) and rock as a genre over the last forty years. As it happens, I wasn’t the only one, either.
Over at The Punk Rock MBA, Finn McKenty was doing the same thing, albeit in his style of wisecracking, mosh-pit sociology.
McKenty’s central thesis is that rock used to be the soundtrack for ‘good times’ but that’s no longer the case. Sorry to tell you folks, but Rock (capital ‘R’ this time) just isn’t F.U.N. anymore, apparently.
Tracing this downfall through the last few decades, McKenty covers the self-serious, nihilistic black-pill modality of 90s grunge and alt-rock, the rise and proliferation of gangster rap, the early 00s aesthetic of nu-metal and butt rock, hipster infatuation with garage rock revivalism, mid-00s mall emo dominance, alongside late 00s neon-pop and crunk-core.
It’s a broad, sweeping analysis that eventually settles on the year 2013 as the temporal site of rock’s supposed death and the genre’s waning relevance in pop culture. So, what killed Rock in those eight years, you may ask? Normies, Skrillex and EDM apparently. (Thanks Obama.)
Okay, okay, but is this analysis even accurate? Is rock actually dead? Or is it simply just boring now?
Well, first we need to agree on terms. ‘Fun’ denotes something that is “amusing, entertaining, or enjoyable.” However, as McKenty astutely points out, this argument is about more than just the subjective experience of rock as music:
“At the end of the day, does this genre paint a picture of a lifestyle that people find cool and interesting and entertaining?”
It’s a question that gets to the heart of the cultural perception and longevity of rock, the self-perpetuating idea of the ‘rockstar,’ and the genre as a whole—aesthetics and all.
So, with this question in mind, can we find examples of rock music, post-2013, that is both successful and relevant to our post-Trumpism, Tik Tok-ascendant age, while also being amusing, entertaining, and enjoyable? I think we can.
Fall Out Boy – Save Rock and Roll (2013)
Is it a coincidence that this year find’s Chicago’s boys next door Fall Out Boy dropping an ambitious record literally called Save Rock and Roll? Perhaps. While it’s certainly not my favourite record from the group, it does show that rock continued to have a foothold in pop culture. The album was a commercial and critical success, featuring both Courtney Love and Elton John (a coup for any band, really), and lead single “My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark (Light Em Up)” is a triple-platinum, worldwide banger with over 160 million plays/views on YouTube alone. Dead to whom, exactly?
Every Time I Die – From Parts Unknown (2014)
By this point in their career, the Buffalo boys have been doing this thing nearly two decades. And while ETID may represent the harder and heavier edge of rock as a genre, they’ve always had a keen ear for fun times and party jams. Listen to tunes like “The New Black” or “We’rewolf” and tell me you don’t wanna throw some TVs and rage with your friends. (Also, in the video below for “Decayin’ With The Boys,” someone hangs dong—so ah, yeah, hence the age-restriction. It’s that type of fun.)
Bring Me The Horizon – That’s The Spirit (2015)
Considering BMTH’s metalcore scene origins, their fifth full-length LP felt like a revelation. Not only did it launch the band into mainstream superstardom, but it was also super catchy. While still keeping it heavy in places, the band embraced operatic pop and sugar-sweet melodies to great and—dare I say it—fun effect. Violin in the zombie apocalypse? Sure, why the hell not.
Violent Soho – WACO (2016)
When it comes to unsung heroes in contemporary Aussie rock, they don’t get much better than Mansfield’s finest. Following up the critically acclaimed Hungry Ghost (2013) was a tall order of business, but the neo-grunge outfit absolutely crushed it. WACO spawned five (!) hit singles, all of which landed in Triple J’s Hottest 100 for 2016. The album was certified Gold upon release, hitting #1 on the ARIA Charts, and it landed Violent Soho the double win with the 2016 ARIA Award for Best Rock Album and Best Group. Howzat?
Dune Rats – The Kid’s Will Know It’s Bullshit (2017)
Hot on Soho’s heels, the kings of Aussie irreverence Dune Rats dropped their second LP, The Kid’s Will Know It’s Bullshit. In his review for Rolling Stone, Matt Coyte said the band’s “playfulness [had] been mostly replaced with rebellion so nihilistic that it seems irresponsible,” going on to declare that TKWKIB is a “fun record, but in the same way that drinking till you throw up is fun.” Amusing, entertaining, and enjoyable? Checks out.
Don Broco – Technology (2018)
On paper, Don Broco’s music shouldn’t really work. Not heavy enough to be metal, too weird to be funk, too rock to be pure pop. But on Technology, the English quartet pull off this devilish amalgam of genres and styles in a way that feels fresh, innovative, and stupidly infectious. Also, their music videos are completely bonkers and worthy of praise purely for their commitment to the bit.
Frank Carter and The Rattlesnakes – End of Suffering (2019)
Find me someone from the last decade who more embodies the passion, the aesthetic, and the pure animal magnetism of the ‘rockstar’ than Frank Carter. On their third LP, The Rattlesnakes charged headfirst into QOTSA territory with quaking grooves, bouncy rhythms, and one hell of an energetic live show. If you can get Tom Morello of Rage Against The Machine fame to put some licks down on your record, you must be doing rock right, that’s all I’m saying.
The Chats – High Risk Behaviour (2020)
Thinking of rock that’s fun purely for fun’s sake, you can’t really go past The Chats, as Australia’s paragons of bogan hedonism and mullet excess. The music is simple, the lyrics can be sung with half a carton swimming in your gut, and themes include getting feeds at the pub, going for smoko breaks, and catching venereal diseases. While they might not have an ARIA just yet, they’ve already earned the ire of our current dickhead Prime Minister and accolades from rock icons like Josh Homme, Iggy Pop, and Dave Grohl. Not bad, fellas.
So, while I can concede McKenty’s point that rock might not have the mainstream chart dominance of the 90s and 00s, ‘Rock’ clearly isn’t dead or absent of fun idealism either. The beating pulse of the genre is still there, but maybe just a little fainter than before. If you know where to look, and how to listen, you can still find it permeating throughout pop culture. As Frank Carter told me when I put the question to him directly in 2019:
“The problem with rock is that it’s the muse. Back in the day, it was the only source of music that was rebellious and that’s why people loved it. Nowadays, it’s the muse. You look at fuckin’ everything from classical to trap to hip-hop to pop, even. If they’re not borrowing a riff or a fuckin’ breakdown, they’re borrowing a leather jacket and tattoos; they’re constantly taking from rock, since forever.”
As for Baker—the apparent saviour of rock in this new decade—and his career after Downfall’s High, I wish him all the best. Give it a shot, you could certainly do worse (I’m looking at you, Imagine Dragons). But maybe stop singing about high school drama. You’re 30, dude. Shit’s weird.