Evolution of the Next Music Revolution

Hardship is a powerful catalyst for change. When the chips are down, governments are failing and hip-pocket nerves are raw, a rising undercurrent of musical angst invariably follows. And when the banks of that river of discontent burst and overflow into the mainstream airwaves, you have yourself a music revolution. The cycle of social unrest reflected in a wave of musical angst has revolved for 5 decades, and in 2012 the planets of financial pain and social discontent are lining up once more. Change is a'-comin'...

Some of the most enduring and game-changing music of the past 50 years was borne from the roots of global economic downturn or war. The hugely unpopular Vietnam War, under the guiding hand of an even more despised President Nixon, spawned a decade of protest songs that changed the shape of music. The blissful naivety of the '60's 'Hard Day's Night' era gave way to a new wave of angst and biting lyrical cynicism moving into the '70's, the likes of which had not been seen before, in the shape of Dylan-esque epics like 'All Along the Watchtower', rip-roaring Hendrix riffs of anti-Americanism, and a second-wave of mid-'70's protest prodigies, the likes of Springsteen and Don Walker (the reclusive, brooding and largely unheralded genius behind Cold Chisel).

Yeah, we get it, Bob.  More or less...

The '80's saw a rebirth of disco-infused optimism and synthesized bubblegum pop commercialism dominating the airwaves in the wake of a new global economic boom. But when the ass fell out of Wall Street in '87, suddenly there were stockbrokers base-jumping from skyscrapers without parachutes. Devastating financial aftershocks rippled across the world, squeezing suburban hip pockets for another 5-7 years. Jobs were hard to come by and interest rates spiralled. For the jobless and the struggling, 'I Should Be So Lucky' just didn't ring true anymore... luck was hard to come by. Clean-living, pink shirts and pointy shoes gave way to drugs, faded flannelettes and grimy beanies. Big-haired lycra-clad '80's glam-rockers the likes of Poison and Motley Crue became an urban joke. The kids wanted some gritty reality in their music that reflected the harsh realities of life. 

When three struggling young underground punks from Washington DC calling themselves Nirvana signed a deal for a second album in '91 with rising Seattle label Geffen, that wish was squarely delivered. The raw and biting anti-pop punk-rock masterpiece 'Nevermind' gave the world a much-needed shot in the arm of gritty angst. Cobain and his crew spearheaded a new urban assault against superficiality, commercialism and authority, symbolically knocking Michael Jackson from the Billboard number 1 spot, and unleashing the grunge revolution. Nirvana's meteoric and sweeping global conquest took the industry by storm and forced the corporate puppet-masters to rethink the face of music, opening the floodgates for a legion of emerging underground hard-rock talent who gave the metaphorical finger to mainstream pop- the likes of Pearl Jam, Soundgarden and Alice In Chains.

Moisture is the essence of wetness... 

Down under, a bunch of unknown 14-year-old kids from Newcastle, originally known as The Innocent Criminals, and later adopting the alternate tag Silverchair (derived from Nirvana's 'Sliver' mis-spelled, and You Am I's 'Berlin Chair'), released a gritty little garage-tinged EP which doubled as a school music assignment, which went ballistic on a global scale on the back of their debut single 'Tomorrow'.

Pop once more faded into irrelevance, unceremoniously brushed aside by the global bulldozer that was the grunge revolution.

As economies gradually rebuilt from the ashes of the '87 crash, the rising breed of Gen X-ers found they had more green lining their pockets, and less to complain about coming into the new millenium. Cobain had long-since become a victim of his own anti-everything. Suddenly their little sisters were jumping about on the couch in tube skirts and red wigs to the sounds of a group of lip-synching Poms, aka the Spice Girls, a manufactured product of the re-invigorated corporate world. The global boom was kicking into full swing, the punters' bank accounts were swelling, and plasma TV's appeared in every living room. Optimism was back with a vengeance, and along with it, the return of pop.

As the fortunes of the guy on the street grew, it now seemed OK when synthetic iTunes popstars crooned shamelessly about the size of their own bloated wallets, gloated over their stable of Mercedes, their diamonds, their bling and perfect lives. The kids lapped it up! Why? Because this was their destiny in the new millenium. Bling-pop connected with the rising belief amongst GenY-ers that every kid was destined for fortune, fame or both.

But the only certainty in this world is change. And just as it had done every 20 years or so for half a century, change arrived like a tsunami in '07 in the form of a titanic Wall Street correction, spawned by the very same taking-success-for-granted attitude that had become an endemic theme in commercial pop music and living rooms around the world. The aftershocks of the GFC continue to ripple globally, and pundits predict a much slower recovery than in '87, perhaps another 5 years (and probably far longer for the likes of Greece and Spain).

Whilst many punters have been insulated from the full impact of the GFC thus far, as time goes by and the ripples continue to spread, that insulation is likely to be eroded. And as unemployment inevitably grows and hip-pocket pain starts to grate over the coming years, a change in attitude in music, and a re-emergence of angst and protest in mainstream airwaves is on the cards. What form that change takes remains to be seen... a re-emergence of angsty pop-punk? A new wave of gritty industrial electronica? Or a re-awakening of informed and cynical hard-rock?

Abraham Lincoln, Vampire Killer:  The Early Years

Whatever shape it may take- change, she is a'-comin'...

Viva La Revolution!