Blues Traveler - Four

Defining a genre can be a tricky undertaking, especially in a historical context. Some might ask why bother. I tend to feel such shorthands are useful in letting potential listeners know what they are in for. I think it makes it easier for the brain to absorb the musical nutrients being provided. Given this functional goal, such a label would ideally tell you something about the type of music that you are about to enjoy. Often, however, genres have come to refer more to subject matter, identity politics, business model, or even just temporal period. For instance “blues” is a useful musical label, as it defines not only a certain subject matter, and era, it even has its own chord structure. This is solid, scientific. By contrast, “Emo” refers to everything from Rites of Spring to Atom and his Package, and even the vague definition of “emotionally driven punk rock” stretches things a bit thin. Yet these labels remain, often clinging to unwilling bands for years after the genres demise. 

The life and death of College Rock is a tragic case of demographic and artistic integrity running afoul of convenience and marketability. Born of an FCC decision to provide spare bandwidth to university training programs, the 80s saw a nation-wide proliferation of college radio stations. Each had its own unique quirks and oddities, but as bastions of education and more democratic programming schedules, college stations became pivotal in pioneering new genres and styles. Though the phenomenon was nation wide, colleges do have a certain coastal predisposition, which allowed nearby stations to influence each other, eventually gelling into a genre defined by a respect for independence, talent, artistic virtuosity, and liberal values. Musically the genre defies definition, serving more as a conduit for subsections of the already developing indie scene, but if you can imagine a point that unifies R.E.M., The 10,000 Maniacs, The Smiths, Tom Waits, and The B-52s, you’ll be getting close. Post-punk was a strong influence, but since this was a college based genre, and the 60s were still very fresh, Post-psychedelic, pre-jam band folk was a very strong influence as well. This genre popularized some of the biggest names of the 80s, including the aforementioned bands, so what happened? Where it go? Well the 90s happened and it went to Alternative. 

College Rock helped start the grunge thing, which made record labels take indie acts seriously, but how to market them? They were not a defined single genre, College Rock had too many identity political issues to mass market, and the concept of promoting bands based on their ability to sell records independently of control of major labels was a concept not smiled upon by major labels. Some marketing genius decided that since this hodge-podge of unrelated genres was preferred by its adherents as an alternative to mainstream music, that “Alternative” might be a feasible compromise. 

What was alternative? Well at first it was everything that wasn’t mainstream, ie, non-Pop. But that was never really true, since it was certainly neither Jazz nor Classical nor Hair Metal, and as soon as Grunge became its own genre that was seen as distinct as well, as was Punk when that has its second (Third? Fourth?) coming, nor was Rap ever really in the fold. So Alternative was anything not mainstream that wasn’t big enough to have its own genre...but still got radio play. So, it was College Rock. Or, the bits and pieces of College Rock not big enough to get defined on their own. So…all those folky, arty bits. And so Alternative became the smart jam band genre. And as mainstream music spawned more and more genres that were clearly different from Alternative, such as Ska and Swing and hell, Chick Rock, Alternative eventually came to mean everything that was neither mainstream nor particularly offensive. And so it was that Alternative became the new code word for easy listening, and now you can hear Kenny G on the same station as The fucking Gin Blossoms, and so it is that the horrific, bastard child of college radio stations wouldn't be caught dead playing The 10,000 Maniacs for fear that Natalie Merchant’s past life would rip its way out of the radio and begin hunting down and killing all those who did this to us.  

But there was that shining moment in the mid 90s when Jam Band hadn’t fully developed, and College Rock still wasn’t yet gone, and Alternative wasn’t yet pure shit, and that was the moment that Blues Traveler hit the air waves. And god are they a hard to define band. College Rock is really the only way to go. By modern definitions they would be Jam Band, given their three day long solos at shows, but they had the intelligence (or production) not to do that on the albums. The songs on the album are hook laden, energetic, and internally coherent. This allows all the good parts of Jam Band to gel, and form something really solid (when it works).

Lest you have forgotten them, lets talk singles, namely Run Around and Hook. Run Around is probably the definitive Blues Traveler song. It strongly features the things about the band that are so fucking good. John Popper was not the first person in the world to sing well, nor to bring a harmonica to pop music, but I don’t know anyone else who can blend his voice with the harmonica so perfectly. His lyrics are clever, erudite, and energetic in a way white guys weren’t allowed to be in 1994, and no one is allowed to be these days. The music is virtuosic but controlled, making solid statements and then ending when appropriate. The instruments blend, while still making energetic and interesting intertwining statements. Lovely.

Hook is one of my favorite songs of all time. All the things I said about Run Around are true in Hook, except that the lyrics make one of the most profoundly challenging artistic statements of modern pop music. Others have written songs about how politicians lie. John Popper gives us a fucking rhetoric lesson in HOW they lie, to our faces, while telling us they are lying, and still getting us to buy it. What is more, the song is also about how all pop music, hell, all art does the same thing. While all artists hope to make profound statements that influence people’s lives, this is just the payload. The body of art is emotional manipulation that aims to draw you in and suspend your critical faculties with a haze of endorphins, dopamine, and head nodding. The faster we realize we are being manipulated, and we like it, the faster we will truly understand the real world.

Popper tells this story, in exactly the emotionally manipulative way the story itself tells. I think most people who heard this song thought it was some kind of love song. Nope. But that’s ok, because you were supposed to stop paying attention. That’s the point. And Popper isn’t passing judgment. He’s right there with you. It happens to everyone, and if you love music you love the feeling. Its just part of life, and when you think about it its kind of funny, so the song is kind of a joke. The darkest, happiest joke ever told by a fat man with a harmonica.

So much for the singles. The album tracks vary in the above qualities. Popper always has an awesome voice and is universally erudite and driven. The music sometimes relies on musical clichés from the Jam Band genre that can kind of take me out of the action. The band often counters this by bringing in Southern Rock influences, which is nice. It is also nice that they avoid songs about fairies and the oh-so tired, thrice-regurgitated reggae influences. Overall the songs on this album are fun and listenable. None attain the blinding brilliance of the singles, but they are solid rock songs that feature John Popper and I have no problem with that. A good solid album. 

Tune in next time for a review of the follow up album. God Help Us All.