Musical Snobbery Sucks

And it sucks to say that music you don't like sucks

I’ve had it up to here and beyond with music snobbery. Full disclosure before I get into my rant: I’ve been guilty of the offense in the past, both as a fan and as a music critic. But I’ve since grown up. And stopped taking myself and my musical opinions so seriously (even if for a number of decades I’ve been paid to opine on music in print).

Music fandom is a social signal among those of us who enjoy popular music as well as some that’s not necessarily so popular. We wear the t-shirts and affix the band stickers to our cars. It announces our perceived coolness and assumed sense of good taste as well as membership in a tribe that follows a musical act or genre.

It shows how much music means to people and is an element who we are, what we believe, and even grants stature in some social circles. But the tribal system is rife with misplaced loyalties and sometimes adolescent attitudes, almost like high school cliques. Alas, the social signaling that musical likes and tastes imply can too often fall prey to the notion of being superior to others: cooler, more hip, with better tastes.

And when that goes rancid, people start saying that music they don’t like “sucks,” implying that it is bad music, poorly done. Sure, there’s a small bit of music that makes it at least somewhat into the public consciousness that is in one way or another simply bad or objectionable in intent or. But too often claiming a musical act “sucks” is a snotty and ultimately unfair way of saying you don’t care for it. And neither fair nor true.

Kinda snotty, IMO

That said, I will confess an affection for the “Your Favorite Band Sucks” podcast by Tyler Mahan Coe (son of country music outlaw David Allan Coe) and his bud Mark Mosley. They rank, rip on and skewer popular musical acts for their foibles, flaws and pretensions. I got a kick out of them doing so on two of my most beloved bands, The Who and The Clash. Again, because I’ve learned to not take my tastes so seriously. Our heroes are only human.

And realized that if people like something that I don’t, hey, that’s OK. It really has no bearing on me. So why should I slam it?

Case in point: A few weeks ago, recently-anointed Veep candidate Tim Walz posted on social media a triptych of photos of himself with his stereo and daughter with vinyl albums by Bob Seger and John Mellencamp. A friend of mine made a sneering comment regarding Walz’s liking the artist formerly known as Johnny Cougar. I almost posted a response about how “musical snobbery is not a good look.” But resisted lest it alienate him.

One irony in the matter is that my friend managed and released music by one of the most revered underground cult artists in contemporary music. So he hardly needs to get his hip musical cred card punched. The fact that he looks down on others into music that he doesn’t like strikes me as a personal failing on his part, a sign of insecurity as well as emotional immaturity. Much as I may like and generally respect him.

Sneering at Mellencamp is also a sneer at the millions of music listeners who have enjoyed his music and seeing him perform. I may not be a regular listener to him. But in 1989, I did spend serious ear time with what I feel his finest album, Big Daddy, and found it enjoyable and impressive even if he isn’t my cuppa tea.

Musical snobbism can also be needlessly exclusionary. In the early ‘90s, I moderated the first panel on Americana at the South By Southwest music conference. One of the panelists was a co-founder/editor of No Depression magazine, which more or less became the house organ of the early Americana movement. He’d previously been part of the Seattle scene during the rise of grunge, and decried how that its success had ruined the scene. He hoped Americana wouldn’t get too big.

I was near-horrified by his statement. And immediately piped up about how, when I hear music that I love, I want to shout about it from the rooftops. Not just to share the enjoyment, but for the artists to maybe enjoy the benefits their artistry merits.

Or as Bing Crosby and the Andrews Sisters sang many years ago: Accentuate the positive, eliminate the negative. Music touches peoples’ souls in a special way. Being a grinch about music that’s not to your tastes is in a way being anti-musical.

If you don’t like it, then don’t listen. Simple, right? No need to demean it and those who like it. That’s terribly bad form.