The Schlock Factor

Just finished a marvelous piece by Jody Rosen titled In Defense of Schlock. In this extensive essay, the author outlines criteria used to define and defend musical schlock in popular genres. He discusses the musical properties associated with schlock and addresses context, themes, and textual content for the music we often associate with schlock. Basing much of his argument on Don't Stop Believing by Journey, Rosen points out the need for schlock in our lives as exemplified by the staying power of much of the music. While the essay reads a little like a historical listing of favorite schlock hits (which he addresses as well), overall he covers the subject quite well and reminds us of both the diversity of the listening public and the power of nostalgia, melody, harmonic simplicity, and quality popular singing styles. This highly recommended essay (http://www.vulture.com/2014/05/jody-rosen-in-defense-of-schlock-music.html) serves as a springboard for expressing my concerns with arts programs and curriculum in today's higher education.

Most people like schlock in music but trained academic musicians generally do not (I do apologize for the gross generalities and am well aware of many exceptions to the statement). Although Rosen's article is in defense of schlock, in spite of its emotionally satisfying musical content, schlock leans toward the musically simplistic side. As tends to happen in all disciplines, the more one knows and understands, the greater becomes the desire for depth of expression. This is the normal process of education and at times it does have a down side. Moving from the concrete to the abstract or the known to the unknown has the tendency to make us emotionally and intellectually dissatisfied with the known or the concrete examples of the discipline. Not that simplistic music, literature, art, or science are problems in and of themselves, and often humans desire simpler expressions of thought, but education in its purest form is designed to demand and to create a comprehensive understanding, perhaps solutions, of complex problems. This means in music that academically trained musicians find themselves in study of Beethoven, Brahms, Stravinsky, and Messiaen over the music of Journey, Lionel Richie, Barry Manilow, and Katy Perry. Such is the normal progression of education.

But as we become more educated about music, we also fall into a trap of exclusion, marginalizing that which does not meet our criteria of excellence or complexity. This is grand and adds to the mystique of excellence which we tend to propagate by virtue of our training and ability. Preferring to live in a world of musical complexity, avoiding schlock when possible, and expressing that music which meets our criteria of time and musical advancement, we find ourselves in the untenable position of performing music for those with equal education and preferences. Again, there is nothing negative about such a practice and, in spite of the lack of strong market forces, we enjoy and prefer advanced culturally refined music.

Our exclusionary curriculum is well and good for producing like-minded students and patting ourselves on the back for our knowledge and our rejection of schlock. But how far can our rejection of powerful market forces sustain our current curricular practices? There is a reason that Don't Stop Believing continues to be revered and enjoyed by so many. It has passed the test of time, at least in the short-term, and is a beloved song in spite or because of its simplistic message and its musical content. Admittedly, there are several works in the classical genre that seem to lean on the "schlocky" side of music, and their frequent performances have become mundane and predictable, adding to their oft disparagement by academic musicians. The musical content may be rich with intellectual and expressive depth, but their popularity has taken them to the level of Don't Stop Believing in terms of commercialism. Music such as Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring by Bach, Rachmaninoff's 2nd Symphony, Brahms' Lullaby, Mozart's Eine Kleine Nachtmusik, and Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata are but a few of the examples.

It may be time, however, for the academic community of musicians to stop looking down on the schlock and, instead, embrace it as a vital part of today's curriculum. Not that we want music of the Carpenters, Air Supply, Chicago ballads, and Katy Perry (all of which I enjoy) to rule the day, but we do need to find musical ways to reach people and make an impact on a world that seems to love schlock and all that accompanies it. Without any kind of exposure of commercialism and popular music of today, we teeter on brink of a dark hole of music curriculum that may one day join the archaic world of drive-in movies, typewriters, horse and buggy, and jousting in woods. This is a call to action and that call goes out to schools of music and music faculty to recognize the value of a judicious usage of schlock in the curriculum. We will make an impact on the world when the world responds to what we do. A comprehensive music program must include a comprehensive look at music in its entirety without the rejection of that which does not meet the prescribed criteria. It is time to consider the schlock factor!