Pop Parental Persona

 

Our generational worship of the Beatles and the Rolling Stones stems from the fact that they were the best at their respective games because they invented, defined, and developed their genres as they evolved. The Beatles took innovative pop-rock records to their zenith by constantly changing, improvising, and focusing on melody, mood and mind expansion. Their experimental sounds, drug influences, harmonies, and the cosmic convergence of Lennon and McCartney have put a hundred songs at the top of our minds. The development of eight-track recording at the time, by them and for them, helped them perfect their sound that influenced culture and the decade. From the fuzzy, proto-grunge guitars of “Revolution” to the ballads “Michelle” and “Yesterday,” or the psychedelic sounds of Revolver and Rubber Soul, they defined music for the next fifty years while imitating Elvis Presley, Bob Dylan, Chuck Berry, and Little Richard.

The Stones took a harder-rock, bad-boy stance, advancing rhythm-and-blues, riff-centered chaos with catchy lyrics and experimental journeys through country, disco, soul, and hard drug psychedelia. Despite the touchy ‘Mate’ relationship between Jagger and Richards, they have put a hundred songs on the tips of our tongues. From the disco sounds of Some Girls and the funky, sexy saxophone of “Can’t You Hear Me Knocking” to the country sounds of “Dead Flowers” and “Far Away Eyes,” they bolstered an offshoot genre while defining it—tongue in cheek, so to speak.

The Beatles lasted about seven years as a recording band and stopped touring after four; the Stones are still going strong after more than sixty years, sustaining their sound and reputation through studio magnum opus and energetic live performance. The Grateful Dead came closest, creating a counterculture and a devoted family of followers around their improvisational jam-band sound. They were not merely the best at what they did; they were the only ones doing it, inspiring countless imitators and spin-off talent. Bruce Springsteen and Bob Dylan have shown similar longevity and equal bodies-of-work with their rock-poet perspectives on real people and everyday life.  All of them endured by changing, evolving, and improving, as true artists must.

It is similar to the way we diefy our parents as much as we worship these artists. From initial belief in their pedestal infallibility, through teenage rejection, to adult acceptance of them as peers and genuine people, we look to our parents as models for the world. For us, they invented it and defined what a parent is, no matter how good or bad that model may be. Our mothers might be the Beatles—lighter and funnier, with the joy of pop music—while our fathers may represent the tough love and hard-driving blues of the Rolling Stones, or vice versa.

Either way, parents define the genre for every family and every child, defining what it entails.  Like the great bands, parents give us an original direction — a foundation we may embrace, reject, reinterpret, or carry forward. Growing up means learning that imitation is flattery.  The finest tribute to those who shaped us is to absorb their lessons, keep evolving, and create a new sound, voice and persona of our own.