Editorials

Sound Off: Our Attitudes Toward Music Parallel Our Belief In Freedom
by Eric Nuzum

Published October 24 - 30, 2001

Within hours of the September 11 tragedies, the music industry realized it needed to display some newfound sensitivity: Dave Matthews nixed plans to release "When the World Ends" as his next single, the Strokes removed "New York City Cops" from their recently released album, and Bush changed the title of their new single from "Speed Kills" to "The People That We Love." But the gesture that received the most attention was a rumored list of songs banned from radio, each containing literal or metaphorical references a bit too close to recent events.

The list, containing more than 150 "lyrically questionable" songs, started as a grass-roots effort by local programmers, then was redistributed by a senior executive at ClearChannel, the largest owner of radio stations in the United States and owner of many Cleveland stations (including WTAM, WMMS, WMVX, WMJI and several others). Among the listed songs were "Fly," "Jet Airliner," "Head Like a Hole," "Only the Good Die Young," "Great Balls of Fire," "Crash Into Me," "It’s the End of the World as We Know It," and dozens more.

When the story hit the mainstream press, most journalists got the story wrong. It was widely reported that ClearChannel overtly banned the songs to avoid consternation and controversy, which wasn’t true. ClearChannel correctly pointed out that the original e-mail didn’t order anyone to ban any songs, but was merely a call for programmers to exercise restraint. Despite ClearChannel’s intentions, many radio programmers did censor songs as a result of receiving that list, but that still isn’t the point. The real question is: what were they trying to restrain?

While the list was mainly comprised of songs bearing lyrical references to burning, death and airplanes, it also advocated censure for "Peace Train" by Cat Stevens, John Lennon’s "Imagine," and all songs by Rage Against the Machine. What do these songs have to do with flying airplanes into buildings? Absolutely nothing, but in the past, each of these artists has expressed controversial political sentiments that buck mainstream beliefs. It’s a perfect example of how a well-intentioned attempt at "sensitivity" can quickly careen down the slippery slope towards stifled free expression – and this is hardly the first time it’s happened.

Back in 1940, when rock music was still a glimmer in R&B’s eye, NBC banned 147 songs containing potential sexual innuendo, including Billie Holiday’s version of "Love for Sale," calling these songs "obscene." In order to safeguard the morality of America’s youth, Billboard got behind a 1954 effort to rid radio of black R&B artists, claiming they "show bad taste and a disregard for recognized moral standards." In 1967, the ABC radio network and a group called the American Mothers’ Committee tried to remove all songs from airplay that "glorify sex, blasphemy, and drugs." The federal government even got into the game in 1970, when the FCC – under pressure from the Nixon administration and working with a list of songs compiled by the U.S. Army – sent a telegram to all radio owners warning them to remove all songs condoning drug use. Their list of songs included "Yellow Submarine," "Eight Miles High," and "Puff (The Magic Dragon)."

The idea of what was offensive may have been different back then, but the reason it needed to be resisted is the same. When we open the question of "tasteful" censorship – even a little – we turn rights into permissions. This month, radio might not want to offend those affected by tragedy; next time they may not want to play music that criticizes the government. You can imagine where this ends up.

Even so, I can’t help but second-guess myself. Is the notion that we’re dropping bombs so that we don’t have to wait in long lines at the airport any sillier than fighting to protect our right to hear AC/DC on the radio? I suppose that depends on what you define as freedom. To me, music is on the cutting edge of that definition. I’m not claiming some philosophic point about music’s "true nature," just about its pervasiveness.

Chances are you’ll be exposed to more music today than any other art form, perhaps more than all other forms of art combined. We use music in the most significant and most mundane of our activities, both to focus intense feelings and to distract us from the dullness of life. As we impede music, we thus inhibit our ability to be fully human.

Music doesn’t have to be patriotic, sensitive, or even make sense. Music, at its most fundamental core, is freedom. It just needs to be there.