Rock and Roll Does Mean Well

Many things still amaze me as I drift into decrepitude, but rock music certainly ranks near the top of the list. What keeps it so fresh, long past any reasonable expiration date? Anyone who has given the matter any thought should be able to write out the rise and fall of rock in her head. If you can't, then just crack open an art history book. Someone synthesizes a few tired old means of expression to create a new form, someone else comes along and expands the new form's possibilities, the momentum dies and everyone moves onto something else.

Except that rock, which by all rights should have started to die after the Beatles broke up, still endures. Scratch that: it still prospers. What brought on this little typing exercise is a sudden realization of just how great a band the Drive-By-Truckers are. With a seemingly inexhaustible supply of songwriters. DBT have already created a body of work that stands with the best rock bands. Just imagine if Flannery O'Connor had grabbed a six string rather than a pen, and you'll get an idea of the kind of songs they produce.

But two years ago I could have written a similar piece on the Hold Steady (and might just yet). My point is this: Buddy Holly's been in the ground fifty years, and the genre still produces artists this vital. One is tempted, of course, to ask why, and I have my theories. A country as culturally diverse as America would naturally favor an art form that easily adapted to different milleaus; moreover, it would stand to reason that this form could itself be transmitted to other societies, where the process would repeat itself. Or whatever. All I know is that rock and roll still possesses the power to move me, and (I think, with some Descartian hedging) others long past the point where it should have lost steam. Hail, Hail, Rock and Roll, indeed!