Last week’s column featured what some have called a “rant” against Liz Phair. While I feel no need to be on the defensive, I would like to print a critical response I received in reaction to last week’s “un-Phair” hegemony. The following letter was penned by Andrew Friedman, who graduated last year but still holds true to his roots and reads Student Life.
“Don’t be so hard on Liz Phair,” responds Friedman. “She sold out. There is no question of that. But consider this: for someone who has had such a long, influential career, isn’t it about time she got paid? In my opinion, artists should be more willing to use their credibility like a pension plan, eventually redeemable for some financial security.
“Countless artists have done this. Metallica lost their ’80s appeal when the mullets came off, but, in return, gained the attention of younger rock fans. Talib Kweli, known for his strong opposition to the creative control and financial draining policies of commercialist music, has managed quality products with artists on Jay-Z’s Roc-A-Fella records. Similarly minded rapper Common is showing up in Dr. Pepper commercials. Being broke is no fun and being a musician is hard work, especially if there’s never a big pay-off.
“All financial issues aside, ‘selling out’ is an effective method for staying relevant to the musical community as one’s target audience ages. Ideally, these creative sacrifices attract new listeners, who could then go and purchase an artist’s older work. Liz Phair may be the paragon of sexual independence for those in their mid to late 20’s right now, but her more friendly sound can attract the ears of those who may need such an icon a few years down the road. Surely, intelligent young women shouldn’t have to settle for vapid pop divas as their role models when indie rock can provide such a fitting alternative.
“Metallica has suceeded in staying relevant. Rather than losing their audience when thrash was no longer en vogue, they softened up momentarily to maintain the public eye. Now that heavier bands such as Slipknot and Mudvayne are selling, Metallica has returned to its brutal beginnings with ‘St. Anger.’
“I’m not saying music that doesn’t sell isn’t worth making. I just feel that artists who have worked so long and so hard to gain their status as bastions of indie credibility should be granted a pardon if they decide that they’d like to send their kids to college.”
Well said, Andrew. Thanks for helping me start a dialogue on an issue that plagues the culture of popular music. And now, my response:
As far as I know, Liz Phair wasn’t hurting financially before she made her decision to team up with the Matrix production team. Her self-described motives were to make poppier, more Avrilesque music, not start a 401K. And can we really be so rash as to predict that this career 180 will bring Liz more money and/or more fans? Rather, I agree with reviewer O’Rourke, who, in the New York Times, called Phair’s move “career suicide.”
Still, what may be career suicide may also, in fact, be investment savvy. Product placement and advertising bucks are a whole other issue. If Phair decided to hawk platforms or pop-tarts, I’d think perhaps that was lame, but I would respect her decision, like Common’s, to rake in some dough. Actors, musicians and athletes do it all the time, and while the rest of us peons may not feel any more obliged to drink Pepsi because Britney Spears sells it, it is certainly her right, and in her financial interest, to hawk nonetheless.
But Phair isn’t hawking soda or soap, she’s selling herself. While artists must, to an extent, market themselves to sell their music, it’s a knife through the heart of Phair fans because she was to us a feminist icon. By that I distinguish her not as a man-hater (and damn the conservatives who have sullied the word “feminism”-but that’s another column) but as a woman who has written songs for women, who agrees in equal rights for women on all fronts-in business, in art and in sex. “Liz Phair” the album, while its jingly melodies and couplet rhymes may appeal to a younger audience, is not how I had hoped Phair the feminist role model would reach the next generation of women.
According to Friedman’s Metallica argument, when feisty pro-women’s-rights music becomes popular again, Liz Phair will return to her roots. But Phair, in all the interviews and articles I have perused, shows no sign of even recognizing that she has roots to return to. She’s changed, she says, she has different goals and interests. You’re preaching to the choir if you tell me that pop music is as valid (if not more valid) a cultural beacon as independent music. But that’s not the point.
The point is that because I am a Phair-influenced feminist, because I have been taught by the Phairs of the world that women can achieve artistic and financial success without stripping, I can support her decision to make a change and still, with a clear conscience, bash her record.
Live music is live art. Be a part of it.