Jones asks: "How did rhythm come to be discounted in an art form that was born as a celebration of rhythm's possibilities?"
I'd like to see his question and raise him. Try replacing his words "art form that" with "black music, which." In other words, his thesis holds equally true for black music as well as white music.
The most popular form of black music today, rap, began life rooted in rhythm. For example, the musicians of the Sugar Hill Gang -- bassist Doug Wimbish, guitarist Skip McDonald and drummer Keith LeBlanc -- were one of the best black bands ever. (They later played with, among others, English producer Adrian Sherwood, the exception to indie rock's bleached bones rule.)
But then came Run-DMC, with their first LP, named after themselves, and its follow-up, "King of Rock." To great crossover success, they incorporated white rock, with its dumbed-down drumming, into their music and rap hasn't been the same since.
This, not the -- attach obligatory "misogynistic" label here -- lyrics is where the root of rap's problem lies. With the bass often as brain-dead as the drum machine programming, rap rhythms tend to be as boring for the serious listener as for the musicians forced to play it. (Commenters: Feel free to contradict.)
In the end, we're left with two questions. . .
Blacks: Why, outside of the neo-soul movement, don't you care about rhythms anymore?
Whites: Why don't you listen to twentieth-century black music anymore?
Russ Wellen is the nuclear deproliferation editor for OpEdNews. He's also on the staffs of Freezerbox and Scholars & Rogues.
"It's hard to tell people not to smoke when you have a cigarette dangling from your mouth." -- Mohamed El Baradei, Director General of the International Atomic Energy Agency
