Faking It: The Quest for Authenticity in Popular Music

Review

With Faking It: The Quest for Authenticity in Popular Music, Hugh Barker and Yuval Taylor have unleashed a very, very dangerous book upon humanity. We’re talking Necronomicon levels of devastation towards the demographic whose very survival hinges on constant access to some variety of musical recording. Not because it’s a bad book – not at all – but because it’s so very, very overstimulating. Barker and Taylor cram so many dissections and references to great songs by great bands that frequent stops to listen to them become a necessity. I spent more time laying in bed tossing a Jeff Bagwell foul ball in the air and stuffing my little Sony boombox with the likes of Led Zeppelin, Bob Dylan, B.B. King, The Beatles, Daniel Johnston, and other consummate greats than I did actually reading the book itself.

Since I provided this warning, I’m expecting no liability.

Barker and Taylor grapple with an intriguing thesis, albeit one that they admit is highly subjective and difficult to define. Starting with Huddie “Leadbelly” Ledbetter and the question of racial exploitation in the early blues movement and ending with Moby and the emergence of electronic music, the writers chronicle musicians’ quests towards finding a unique, honest voice in their art. With the exception of the opening chapter, which focuses on Leadbelly and his influence on Nirvana frontman Kurt Cobain, the book follows a chronological journey through American and British popular music. Every chapter centers upon one or two prominant – if not outright legendary – music figures and analyzes their struggles with creating music that is both honest and pleasing to the fan base. The foci’s efforts are then juxtaposed with those of their contemporaries in similar genres, as well as placed into their proper sociological or sociopolitical contexts.

Faking It is an exhaustive, detailed, and lofty labor of love, albeit a somewhat uneven one. Barker and Taylor tackle an aspect of music that will forever exist in shades of grey. It’s a fascinating subject, no doubt, but one where no real conclusion can be drawn. They ultimately admit that “so-called outsider musicians” (333) typically end up offering the most authentic and honest music, yet almost all the preceding chapters delve into the lives and works of decidedly mainstream performers. Likewise, the tone can’t seem to decide if it wants to appeal to more academic audiences or shoot for a much broader, general scope. In spite of this, though, it does offer up some interesting perspectives, a condensed but concise history of American and British music, and inspires readers to check out some musicians and bands they may have missed out on. Those elements make it worth checking out.

It should be noted that while under the influence of this book, I walked into a used music store in order to bulk up my MC5, Blondie, and New York Dolls collections. Pretty sure if we handed copies of Faking It to every hardcore music junkie in America, this whole economic crisis could reverse itself practically overnight. Get on it, Congress.

Bibliographic Information

Barker, Hugh, and Yuval Taylor. Faking It: The Quest for Authenticity in Popular Music. New York: W.W. Norton, 2007.

Further Reading

Even though it’s a textbook, Joe Stuessy and Scott D. Lipscomb’s Rock and Roll: It’s History and Stylistic Development – now in its sixth edition – was a great primer for me when I was first getting interested in music that wasn’t the same five songs on the radio station. It’s not perfect, but it’s a nice start and isn’t weighed down by a bloated but thoughtful thesis. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some jams to kick out. Even writing about this book is having me scramble towards my CD towers…

~Riot

Bambi vs. Godzilla: On the Nature, Purpose, and Practice of the Movie Business

Review

I’ve sung the praises of David Mamet’s smugly intellectual brand of satire on here before, but his Bambi vs. Godzilla: On the Nature, Purpose, and Practice of the Movie Business is the first of his nonfiction works that I’ve picked up – hoping, admittedly, for more of the same. Mamet certainly delivered in the smug department, but his obvious intelligence is overshadowed by his pretentious cynicism, petty complaints, and minimal insight. I wasn’t seeking any sort of trashy, scandalous Hollywood tell-all, but I was hoping to learn more of how movies are put together from a man whose pockets have been lined from the business since before I was even born.

Unfortunately, I didn’t learn much of anything. Mamet does, at one point, discuss some of the creative improvisations from the sets of Jaws, The Diary of Anne Frank, and The Godfather: Part II in the chapter entitled “Learning By Doing” (93). These interesting little tales of problem-solving on the set are the only real peeks we get into the filmmaking process. Nearly every other glimpse he offers could have easily come from the mouth of a particularly eloquent freshmen RTV/RTF major. The business is difficult and requires long, thankless hours. A lot of backstabbing occurs. Most studios are now bereft of creativity. Actors can sometimes be prima donnas. Many of the most powerful figures in Hollywood are of Eastern European Jewish descent. And critics are little more than bitter, bottom-feeding writers who failed one too many times at creating anything meaningful because they wouldn’t know art if it ran them over in an eighteen-wheeler full of anvils. Unless, of course, they ENJOY your work. Then they’re merely sycophants. 

Mamet dispenses these nuggets of generally common knowledge with deliciously snarky prose, yes. But he comes off as biting the hand that has generously fed moreso than poking friendly and informative fun at his chosen profession. Occasional flirtations with self-deprecation or altruistic defenses of frequently overlooked crew members don’t negate his use of autism as an insult and mean-spirited vitriol towards professional critics who may or may not appreciate his brilliance. Although he does include a modicum of advice for aspiring directors and screenwriters, the only real contribution to anyone interested in studying film is an appendix of all the movies referenced in the book. There’s some real classics in there, as well as some obscure older movies that provoke interest, especially for those who enjoy the noir and heist/police drama genres. Skip the hot air and go straight for the appendix.

To be fair, simply because Bambi vs. Godzilla comes off as little more than the preening condescention Mamet often parodies in his works does not mean that his fiction ought to go ignored. He truely is a gifted playwright and screenwriter, and I plan on reading more of his writings in the future because of this. But this one I would recommend as a skip.

Guess that makes me a bitter, bottom-feeding writer who has failed one too many times at creating anything meaningful because she wouldn’t know art if it ran her over in an eighteen-wheeler full of anvils…

Bibliographical Information

Mamet, David. Bambi vs. Godzilla: On the Nature, Purpose, and Practice of the Movie Business. New York: Pantheon, 2007.

Further Reading

I admit I am biased in favor of stories of scrappy novice and independent filmmakers over the gaudy exploits of Hollywood. Written with warmly humorous machismo, Bruce Campbell’s If Chins Could Kill: Confessions of a B Movie Actor chronicles his memories with future Spiderman director Sam Raimi and beyond. It’s a fine recollection of guerilla filmmaking and all the grimy, industrious, and never entirely legal passion that it entails.

~Riot