It's all Rock 'n' Roll, baby!! Is it?

The answer, sadly, is no. It's not all rock 'n' roll and in fact, a lot of the tripe on the airwaves comes nowhere near being rock 'n' roll. In fact, a neatly curled arrangement of excrement is closer to being a computer than most of that "music" (excrement is a word that fits better) is to being rock 'n' roll. If the sounds of Curtis Jackson's illiterate babblings about how many times he's been shot or how women think he's the man is music, or pre-pubescent wailings about how alluring various parts of a singer's body are and how truthful they are is music, then call me a philistine, because I wish to have nothing to do with any of it.

Which is why I was so pleasantly surprised last night, when flicking through channels, only to stumble upon VH1 and Headbangers' Ball. Imagine my glee then as Rage Against the Machine's Guerrilla Radio started up. And it didn't stop there!! Through the acerbic blasts of Sepultura, the breakneck speed of Morbid Angel, the crushing Cowboys from Hell and the weirdness of Megadeth's Sweating Bullets, I was re-energised, re-enlivened and recharged after a week that took plenty out of me. And that got me musing about what exactly it is about music with a punch that makes me so happy, content and at ease with the world.

And I discovered, it isn't just that it's REAL music, made from the heart and with instruments. It isn't just that it's actually written by the artistes themselves and not by some "producer" whose idea of production is looping the same sample over and over, song after song and punctuating the "song" with a "jyeah jyeah jyeah" or "c'mon now" or something equally redundant. Neither is it just the fact that it's music designed to reach inside the soul of the listener and strike a chord with them, as opposed to turning them into writhing masses of overstimulated testosterone looking to grind their crotches onto whatever female backside they can locate and vice versa with females. And it isn't just the fact that unlike the aforementioned tripe, music that kicks you in the gut doesn't cause you to lose IQ points everytime you listen to it.

What it is, is that the rock community comprises people who listen to all types of music, are from all walks of life, have hair of different lengths, skin of different colours and beliefs and ideologies stemming from different schools of thought. What does unite them however, generally speaking of course (there are always exceptions), is that sense of oneness stemming from the fact that their music is their music! It's not commercial and it sure as hell isn't acceptable at most social occassions. Imagine a wedding party where you are treated to Machinehead's Davidian. Not too likely, is it? However, how often have you seen degrading songs about objectification and the glamourisation of being a general moron playing at weddings and children's parties? Don't tell me you've never heard Eminem, Sean Paul and their similar breed of degenerates blaring out of the stereo as kids play catch at a party or as little girls grind their bodies on a makeshift stage at malls to the sounds of pointless beeps, whirrs and orgasmic sounds, packaged as music.

The rock community in general is also more humane, decent and less likely to "pop a cap in the ass" of people who disagree with them. Look at Bangalore for an example. When someone falls down in the moshpit at a rockshow, the crowd will converge immediately to help him/her up. If someone loses their belongings, the rest help out and spread out so as to be able to spot it on the ground. Of course, there are exceptions, but these are generally aberrations and not the rule. Try finding that at a club, where you are more likely to find someone studying the contours of your bottom as you bend over to look for a missing belonging, than helping you look for it.

I guess, what I'm trying to say without being too preachy and sermonising is, it's important to be open-minded, it's important to be tolerant but most importantly, it's CRITICAL to bring false music to an end! And now, if you'll excuse me, Maynard awaits. It appears he wants to tell me something about the rains washing away all the bloated garbage (hip gangster wannabes, insecure actresses, smiley gladhands with hidden agendas) that makes up our metropolitan cities.