“’Oh, come on, Bill, they’re the New Kids…they’re such a good image for the children.’ Fuck that! When did mediocrity and banality become a good image for your children? …I want someone who PLAYS FROM HIS FUCKING HEART!”
–Bill Hicks
I have had a wonderful vision of a utopian future. This idea, as is so often the way, came to me after drinking lots of beer (this particular idea was inspired by cask-conditioned beer, but I haven’t determined yet whether the idea is related to the type of beer. I intend to find out someday). My vision is a simple one, but beautiful in its simplicity, and it is this: A world without American Idol. And I know how to achieve it.
My previous attempts at envisioning this perfect world of free candy and puppies for everyone was contingent on what I now know to be an unworkable premise: that the show would go away if people stopped watching. This is of course true, but largely impossible. I’ve come to realize that most people view music the same way I view food. They’ll pretty much swallow whatever’s put in front of them. I can’t fault them for that, although I’d really, really like to. People consider different things important, and generally, music isn’t one of them. Sure, they like it just fine, but it’s mostly just background noise. Just so long as there’s something there. So I can’t depend on the public at large to help achieve my dream.
No, my dream will be accomplished with the help of the people employed in creative endeavors. Studio musicians, camera operators, makeup people, et. al. And it will be accomplished in the space of one brief phone call. Observe this example:
CONTRACTOR: “Hi, this is Jerry Tinycock and I’m contracting for American Idol.”
MUSICIAN: “Fuck you.”
See how simple and elegant that is? How brilliant? Are you beginning to see the implications of this minuscule bit of well-placed profanity?
I know, I know…If you work as a freelancer, you can rarely afford to turn down work. But put that aside for the moment and let me explain. I’m going to talk mostly about the musicians now, but get this: the people who sing and judge on American Idol don’t really know anything about music. All they know is karaoke. They don’t write songs, they don’t play instruments, they don’t do anything, not one fucking thing, besides sing somebody else’s songs, that somebody else has both written and recorded. They need the studio musicians. And they need everybody else on the interpretive side of the business. Otherwise they have no show.
I don’t want for a second to sound like I’m blaming the interpretive artists—I know you all just want to do good things. And you take the crap jobs because they allow you to have someplace to live and food to eat between the good jobs. I know because I’ve been there, and I’ve tried to make a living that way, and I’ve done the crap jobs. But what I’m saying is that if somebody somewhere doesn’t stem the tide of awful soul-destroying crap, there won’t be any more good things to do. Good things won’t sell. If I was the type of guy who made charts, I bet I could make one showing a direct correlation between rising public interest in Rock of Love and nose-diving interest in Bach’s B Minor Mass.
I’ll grant you, if you turn down all the bullshit job offers, there may be some lean months. Hell, you may even need to get a supplementary day job for a while. That’d suck. But if you don’t turn down the bullshit, I promise it’ll be a lot worse. For every single piece of artistic detritus, every shiny, polished turd Hollywood crams down people’s throats with their slickly calculated, demographic-based, multimillion-dollar ad campaigns, that’s one genuinely good piece of art that will never see the light of day. There’s not enough room for the good and the bad to exist side-by-side. It will eventually have to be one or the other. And by continually taking well-paying jobs predicated on soulless horseshit, you are contributing to the demise of your own art form. You know, the one you’ve spent your entire life on? You are invalidating it right this moment. There can’t be a world where people listen to Brahms and watch American Idol. One will eventually negate the other.
But it doesn’t only have to apply to inane TV karaoke shows. Just consider this exchange:
CONTRACTOR: “Hi, this is Steven Notesticleswhatsoever, contracting for a session for Britney Spears’ new record, Whoops, Y’all, I Just Took Another Gold-Plated Dump.”
MUSICIAN: “Eat it, asshole. You go right ahead and ingest that gold-plated dump.”
Or maybe:
CONTRACTOR: “Hi, this is Hugh Impotent, contracting for Transformers on Ice by Michael Bay.”
MUSICIAN: “Fuck you, Hugh. Fuck you, I will rip your worthless scrotum off over the fucking phone!”
Obviously, you can use your own personal style. This is just off the top of my head. The important thing is to let these people know you mean business, and “business” means they’re not going to be doing any. Musicians, filmmakers, writers, creative people of every variety…these assholes need you, and they can’t foist their shitty, evil product on people without you. It’s time to take it all back. It might mean you have to move into a smaller apartment, or maybe take a job at Denny’s, or not drink so much delicious cask-conditioned beer, but believe me…you’ll thank me someday.
