The Holographic revolution that will
destroy music as we know it
I always thought the death of rock &
roll would come via some unexpected new musical trend: gangsta rap boy hands,
Justin Bieber as the 4th member of the newly reformed Hanson or as a disco
renaissance proving it really was just too good to ever die. What I never
expected was the death of rock & roll to come via a dead west coast rapper
reincarnated as a music festival hologram. So yes, you read the headline
correctly: Tupac Shakur killed rock & roll.
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| Holographic Tupac |
Coachella, April 15, 2012 – During a
set by Snoop Dogg we, as a music loving nation, bore witness to the
Tupac Shakur hologram who graced the stage with his Doggness. The repercussions
might not be instantly recognizable but give it time, you’ll understand soon
enough.
When I was 6 I lost my best friend.
His name was Hamkey and he was my loving 3 year old hamster. At the time I
would have done anything to bring Hamkey back to this world so I could continue
watching his tireless journey on a hamster wheel. An upcoming Tim Burton movie,
Frankenweenie, posits a similar notion that it’s better to love and hold onto,
then it is to have love and lost. Ten years after the death of Hamkey, I
experienced another bout of loss when I sat in the Denver airport and learned
that Kurt Cobain had taken his own life. I obviously didn’t know Kurt (or watch
him run an endless sprint on a metal wheel) but through his music I felt an unexplainable
connection. Not as a morose teenager who is lost in a strange and cruel world
but as an artist who helped me discover a world of music beyond Motley Crue and
Def Leppard. In both the case of my
childhood hamster and my pre-pubescent fanhood, I could imagine nothing greater
than having those beings back in my life.
For the 18 years since, I’ve never
had any reason to question this notion until digital Tupac happened. It took me
a couple weeks to really process the notion of bringing back a dead artist and
making it seem, via modern technology (James Cameron’s special effects
studio - Digital Domain), that we are actually watching the artist live and on
stage before our very eyes! What if the Fab Four were back! What if Duane
Allman brought back his oh so sweet slide guitar to the Allman Brothers! And what if Cobain, sans self-inflicted gun
wound, joined Krist Novoselic and Dave Grohl back on stage in Seattle to play what
could possibly be the largest reunion concert of all time. Luckily I trust the living counter-parts of
these artists to say a big “Fuck you” to this idea but what’s to stop the
Hendrix family, who still fight over his music rights to this day, to sell his music rights to the NFL and Jimi's Woodstock performance of the Star Spangled Banner happens in front of 85,000 fans (and televised to millions more
worldwide) at the New Orleans Superdome for next year’s super bowl?
Over the following weeks, the talk
settled down, we made our
jokes and we went back to talking about American Idol and who the snarkiest
judge is. Then it happened…my worst nightmare. Queen announced
it would be joining the digital resurrection (the new and apparently much cooler name for hologram) game and will make Freddie Mercury appear on stage with
them in London on May 14. We like to throw out the term ‘Pandora’s Box’ anytime
something we hate becomes overly cool but this truly is the defining moment in the
opening of digital resurrections’ Pandora’s Box. Freddie Fucking Mercury, dead
some 20 years, will be ripped from his slumber in the heavenly cloud that holds
musics greatest artists, to play a concert beyond his will.
Now imagine all the record execs of
the world, sitting in their little offices on the penthouse level of some tall building
in some major metropolitan city, surrounded by many leather-bound books and rich
mahogany bookshelves (I imagine them all shorter, fatter, less funny versions
of Ron Burgundy) plotting their next money-maker. Sure, Greatest Hit albums are
still selling, they have a line of t-shirts at every Target in the country and
movie studios still pay handsomely for rights to use their songs in the credits…but
there’s always more to be made. Specifically: a cheaply produced, quickly
designed and exact digital replica of their artist could be used in a worldwide
tour, making millions upon millions more, with barely the lift of the finger. And
Charlie Concert-Goer would just eat it all up.
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| Nirvana - New Years Eve 1993/94 |
But the money aspect of this emerging concert revolution isn’t even what is truly wrong about this all. It’s the loss
of meaning the artist once held. In death, all painters’ works become infinitely
more valuable but in music, their songs/words/images become that much more meaningful. The
world recently lost an amazing artist, director and human rights activist in
Adam Yauch. What was the first thought you had when you heard the news? Was it that
Tibet lost one of its greatest activists, that music lost one of its
greatest rappers (and bassists) or was it, “Damn, I never got to see them live!”
Don’t feel bad, that’s the first thing I thought. But, for better or for worse,
that’s mine to bare and I’ll have it forever. But it’s also what makes me sit
on YouTube for hours on end watching old Beastie Boys videos and documentaries while reminiscing on that sophomore summer when a friend first introduced me to the B-Boys via a dubbed tape of Check Your Head (just kidding RIAA, please don't sue 14 year old me). It’s this emotion that I find more fulfilling and endearing then it would be to settle my mind with a
chance to see a digitally resurrected MCA play with the Beastie Boys again so
that I can say, “Sweet, I finally saw them. I can cross that off my
list”. The same goes for Kurt Cobain and Nirvana. Every year on the
anniversary of his death, I’ll stumble upon an article reminding the world of
this fact and next thing I know, I’m re-watching the 1993 New Year’s Eve
concert they performed while I was stuck, against my will, babysitting. That
evening as I put the kids to bed, I stared, completely transfixed, as Cobain
took a crowd of over 50,000 and brought them into his world through his music. This
was the last live moment I shared with this band as it was only 4 months later
that Cobain was gone. Having his image back on stage in concert would only
seek to destroy this lasting and meaningful memory that I’ve enjoyed for almost
20 years.
But let’s forget about ourselves for
a second. What if we could truly tap into the spiritual being of these artists who
have passed? What would they say knowing they were being used to fill the
pockets of billionaires who are playing off the emotions of a nostalgia-loving society
who would do anything to see something again that once made them cry with audible emotion, that once made their heart skip a beat when the big buildup to the
final chorus happened, or once brought joy in the creation of a mixed tape they
made for their best friend when they were 12. I would like to imagine that it
would bring a middle finger and some choice expletives.
So this is my plea: please don’t destroy
the souls and memories of the artists who have, in some way or another, touched
our souls and gave us something to care about, something to brag about and
something to be connected to. I know the dollar is louder than my little plea, but
for the sake of rock & roll as we know it, I hope there is somebody out
there to hear it.
To Tupac – I would like to apologize.
You didn’t really kill rock n roll, you were just another pawn in the music industry game that’s
been played for decades. Be sure and collect
your holographic soul when you pass ‘GO’ but please...leave the $200.
To Hamkey – I miss you bud. I’m glad I
never stuffed you like I asked Mom to.
To Michael Jackson, Whitney Houston,
John Lennon, Skinny Elvis…I fear for your souls. And I promise not to attend
your concert at the Garden next year.
But I hope you sell lots of shirts.
Chuck Rogers
5/12/12
