my power pop addiction, no. 51 (123)

The Beat's Rock 'n Roll Girl is a nice little song, but its significance transcends the pleasure it provides for listeners over the course of two minutes. The song arrived on the scene in 1980, a weird, transitional, contradictory moment in the history of rock and pop. Rock had by then become as bloated and indulgent as ever, achieving an apogee of heavy handedness in the form of Pink Floyd's The Wall. At the same time, punk and new wave exposed the old guard arena bands as ossified artifacts of a bygone era, the only trouble being that quite a few otherwise admirable and talented bands of the new generation, like the Pretenders, the Cars, and Cheap Trick, could not avoid co-optation into a corporate rock machine that was still quite potent even over the course of its slow demise. It certainly was confusing for me at the time, though I probably experienced it less as confusion than as a simple set of identity choices. My natural inclination at 12 was to be a dope smokin' hesher and to stick to the meat and potatoes of the Who, Hendrix, the Stones, Zep, Cream, Clapton, Deep Purple, Blue Oyster Cult... In fact, the B.O.C. show my step-brother-in-law took me to see at Nassau Coliseum, I believe in the spring of 1980, was truly a quasi-religious experience for me. All that pot and middle class teenage rebellion floating in the air forever transformed my outlook on life. But I also sensed that the over-elaborate ritualism of arena rock was dying a slow death, ever so gradually becoming obsolete in the face of the more stripped-down and direct approach of Elvis Costello, Patti Smith, Graham Parker, the Ramones... And yet, a lot of these artists also eventually got caught in the magnetic pull of corporate commodification. I suppose one of the sad inevitabilities of the culture industry is that it presents the artist with a choice - sell out or fade into obscurity. Some continue to do compelling things once they've been absorbed, while others just get their money but lose their identity and dignity, and so they end up fading away in just the same manner as if they hadn't sold out. Capitalism is a ruthless fucking meat grinder. And this is why Rock 'n Roll Girl still sounds so interesting to me, even though it's quite conventional in some ways and doesn't have the staying power of some of my favorite pop songs. Listening to it today demands historical perspective. Within the transitional context of the late 70s and early 80s, the song registers a vote for the good guys. Unlike My Sharona, with its noodling guitar break that sounds like a concession to the suits in the board room, marring an otherwise fantastic pop song, Rock 'n Roll Girl never gives in to the temptation of focus group results and market research. There's not one ounce of heaviness in the song. It's just a pure perky delight but feels like a featherweight Golden Gloves rookie stepping into the ring with Evander Holyfield. The rookie's gonna eventually go down hard and knows this about himself as the bell sounds, but he doesn't care. This is the moment he's worked all his life for, and he's ready to make his stand...