A passing comment over on Costello-L, the Elvis Costello fan mailing list, had Hughesy sign up for a FaceBook group called Ben Herman's Poll Questions, which means that my in-tray receives, at the start of each month, a question requiring a one-word answer, and sees some interesting reading at the end of the month when Ben posts the results.
Along with the results, he'll add some of the comments that have been provoked by that month's question and, given the nature of the Costello-L community, they usually make for a few minutes' interesting reading.
Rant: A Trans-Atlantic Question
Some of Ben Herman's Poll Questions don't require a great deal of thought.
It's easy enough to figure out whether, for example, you wear a watch. Some require a little more thought, but there aren't too many that lend themselves to lengthy in-depth analysis. Perhaps this one doesn't either, but it arrived in my in-tray a few hours before I was due to head to Townsville for one of those medical procedures that tend to follow positive results in blood tests.
Nearing sixty, there's always the chance the procedure isn't going to bring good news (a prospect you tend to prefer not to dwell on), and, in any case, the advance publicity over the lead-up to this particular one was such that I didn't want to spend a lot of time thinking about that side of things either.
Faced with the possibility of a sleepless night and the chronic paranoia that would probably accompany the transit of the saline purgative through Hughesy's digestive system it was probably going to be healthy to have something else to ponder and even possibly scribble a few notes about along the way.
As things transpired, the purgative process wasn't as horrendous as the advance publicity had suggested, and there wasn't a whole lot of time spent on paranoid navel-gazing anyway.
But I'd started thinking things through and there's a bit to ponder there over the course of the morning walk over the next few days.
The question this time around involves a choice between the music of North America versus the British Isles and asks the respondent to choose which one to keep if forced to choose.
Or, as Ben put it himself (and I quote):
Take all the music performed by white people* in the last 50 years (i.e., since 1960). Now, suppose you are informed that you have a terrible choice you are forced to make. For the rest of your life, you will have to give up listening to either (1) music from North America (the United States and Canada) or (2) music from the British Isles (England, Ireland, Wales, and Scotland)**. My question is, which music would you choose to KEEP--North America or British Isles?*** Remember, you will NEVER be able to listen to one group of performers ever again....
* I am limiting this poll to white performers because if I included music performed by non-whites I'm pretty sure this would be an uninteresting landslide in favor of North America. So just to be clear, no matter what you choose, you can still listen to Rockwell.
Interestingly, however, assuming you could still listen to black music you could, for instance, discard the North American side of things and still get to listen to the blues and other related stuff. For the purposes of Hughesy's musings we'll be ignoring that proviso, at least in part.
** To be 100% clear: for purposes of this question, the origin of a given song/composition is determined by the nationality of the PERFORMER, not the songwriter/composer. So if you gave up British music, for example, you would still be able to listen to Linda Ronstadt's version of "Alison."
Another let-off, so that you could opt for Britain and still hear some of your favourite Randy Newman compositions. Again, I'm inclined to disregard that let-off as well.
Predictably:
As usual, this exceptionally intelligent group has wasted no time in spotting (so far) two very important ambiguities in the question. Here are my rulings:
1. If a band's core lineup includes citizens of both North America and the British Isles (the "Fleetwood Mac Scenario"), you will be able to listen to their music no matter what your choice.
And, again, let's disregard this let-off as well. Fleetwood Mac, for Hughesy's money, became irrelevant with the departure of the last of the Peter Green-era guitarists. Off the top of my head I can't think of too many transatlantic bands I'm likely to rate highly. A glance down the 580 records in Hughesy's Bento CD Collection database (we're only down to P at this point in time) fails to reveal anyone who I could genuinely label transatlantic, so I guess we can ignore this one as well.
2. When you make your choice, you are not only forgoing one region's already recorded music but also any music from that region that may be recorded in the future, until your death.
Which raises some interesting aspects when it comes to the methodology you'd use to make up your mind, but I'm getting slightly ahead of myself.
What we have here is an opportunity to ponder one's past listening habits, consider some implications and make some predictions for the future.
For what it's worth, I should probably note that any decision would be based on the four thousand or so (I'm guessing here, I really have no idea exactly how many disks are lurking inside the Little House of Concrete) CDs that make up Hughesy's collection. A great many of those come from widely bootlegged artists who are either taper-friendly (Allman Brothers, Grateful Dead, Little Feat) or taper-neutral (Bruce Springsteen, Neil Young, maybe Elvis Costello) and that in turn implies a North American rather than British bias.
So, from a sheerly numerical point of view, based on the geographic sources of the disks on the shelves, that's probably a vote for North America.
But that modus operandi ain't gonna stop there.
My morning walk just after the question had been posed prompted me to hypothesise a number of approaches to the question, and I thought it was worth looking at each one in turn and seeing which way it leads...
For a start, I thought, it's possible you'd have some sort of bias that would predispose you towards one or the other.
If you're a fan of a particular musical genre, your mind would, in many cases, already be made up. There aren't too many British zydeco or Cajun acts that you'd be inclined to line up against the Louisiana originals, after all.
Alternatively, someone who's into R&B (and I mean the old style R&B from the Soul era rather than the rap-oriented stuff that has appeared more recently) one could invoke Ben's we're looking at white music escape clause and choose Britain, allowing you to enjoy the likes of Joe Cocker, Steve Winwood and Robert Palmer while still grooving to your Stax/Volt or Motown originals.
But there are other forms of bias. You could be strongly pro- or anti- one side of the Atlantic for political or ideological reasons. I'm not, since my republican anti-monarchist Australian nationalist leanings are nicely balanced by my left wing bias against most of the manifestations of American foreign policy over the period in question and, in particular that self appointed status as the cops of the world (take a bow Phil Ochs)....
Which leads to the question of political songwriters. Any bias there?
You could, for instance, line up the usual suspects and find a pretty solid bias towards North America (the predictable Dylan, the afore-mentioned Phil Ochs and more recent exponents like, say, Steve Earle) but that'd ignore the particularly effective rabble rousing of a Billy Bragg, or the more subtly-stated expressions of protest themes that you'll find in the works of Elvis Costello (Shipbuilding and The Scarlet Tide) or Richard Thompson.
Looking at it in those terms, it comes out as a vote for Britain.
One-all.
But in terms of overall bias, there's nothing in it. While I'll listen to a variety of artists and a range of genres there's nothing that predisposes things one way or the other.
Making that decision could come down to whether you anticipate your future listening habits as based on what’s gone on in the past or focussing on what you’re going to be listening to in the future.
In terms of the future, the choice is straightforward. If you're looking for range and variety (particularly if you're inclined to delve into the area of audience or other non-commercial recordings) and working on the likelihood that you're not sure what directions your ears are going to be following over the next couple of years you'd more or less have to go for America.
There's also the matter of future technologies to deliver content into the home (I'm thinking of Moogis as an example) which are more likely to emanate out of Silicon Valley than Surbiton.
Looking to the past it's a different matter.
For a start there's the question of whether you're revisiting past glories or seeking out stuff that you missed the first time around.
Ben's white folks limitation makes it easier in a way. Under that ruling you could still hear the old blues and access the extensive catalogues of the R&B labels, so on one front you could go British, get the white folks take on the classic blues and still have the originals to refer back to.
Another issue raises its head here. The conventional wisdom is that the likes of the Rolling Stones took Muddy Waters and Chuck Berry, placed their own twist on the music and re-exported it in a classic coals to Newcastle scenario.
Now there's no doubt that after the re-export job was done there were garage bands all across the States readapting the Stones to their own environment, and on that garage band front, given the sheer volume that's out there you'd probably go America, but there's another little point that raises an interesting alternative.
I've seen a couple of comments along the lines that if you were white and playing the blues Stateside authenticity was vitally important. I've remarked elsewhere that I passed on the first Paul Butterfield in favour of Cream because the Butterfield was too authentic. In an environment where your music is rated on how accurately it reproduces the original that's fine.
My overall impression of the British situation, on the other hand, was that bands got as close as they could to the original while acknowledging that they weren't going to get all the way there, and when they'd reached the limits of their technical abilities they headed off in other directions.
One move was towards rave up territory, which gave us, for example, the Yardbirds and, with a fair dash of whimsy thrown in, the early, Barrett-era Pink Floyd, and the other was towards the artier approach that gave us, for example, Waterloo Sunset and A Whiter Shade of Pale (to pick two random examples).
Now, the same thing happened (more or less) with the thousands of garage bands that sprang up across North America, but there’s one difference that leans towards Britain, and that's the influence of English eccentricity that comes down through the Goons, Monty Python and, particularly, the Bonzo Dog Band.
I find it difficult if not impossible to envisage a personal musical universe that doesn't include Vivian Stanshall and the Bonzos.
In any case, looking to the past with a view to catching up on things you missed first run through, I'd definitely be going British, if for no other reason that the multitude of American garage bands means you'd be flat out figuring out where to start.
The other way of looking to the past is to go and revisit past glories. Now, at first I was inclined to go British again, based on the fact that once you've taken out the black influences the Beatles, the Stones, Cream and the various British prog rockers were major influences on what came next.
Then, on the morning walk, I started thinking about the question as filtered through the past glories prism. Running through the CD racks, and glancing towards the shelves of vinyl and I'm not sure it's so clear cut. Looking at acts that have large numbers of albums and live recordings on the shelves we find (based on what I know I'd be listening to):
Britain:
The Beatles, Jeff Beck, The Bonzos, Eric Clapton/ Cream, Elvis Costello, Nick Drake, Fairport Convention, the Peter Green Fleetwood Mac, the Canterbury scene (as epitomised by Hatfield & The North), the Incredible String Band, the Kinks, Nick Lowe, Van Morrison, Graham Parker, Andy Partridge/XTC, Procol Harum, the Stones, Small Faces, Squeeze, Richard Thompson, The Who (21)
North America:
Allman Brothers Band, The Band, Paul Butterfield, The Byrds, Leonard Cohen, Ry Cooder, Willy de Ville, Doctor John, Dylan, John Fahey, the Fugs, the Grateful Dead, John Hiatt, Dan Hicks, the Holy Modal Rounders, Sonny Landreth, Little Feat, Los Lobos, Love, early Steve Miller Band, Mother Earth, Randy Newman, Laura Nyro, Van Dyke Parks, Quicksilver Messenger Service, Todd Rundgren, Sir Douglas Quintet/ Doug Sahm/ Texas Tornados, Boz Scaggs, Southside Johnny, Bruce Springsteen, Steely Dan, Taj Mahal, Derek Trucks, Velvet Underground, Neil Young, Frank Zappa, Warren Zevon. (37)
Which amounts to a pretty substantial numerical advantage in favour of America, although the British list does include Messrs. Costello and Thompson who'd probably make up a substantial part of the deficit when you take personal bias into account, and if you took those lists and made it a case of artists Hughesy'd find it difficult to envisage a world without, the lists look like this:
Britain:
Jeff Beck, The Bonzos, Elvis Costello, Graham Parker, Andy Partridge/XTC, Richard Thompson (6)
North America:
Allman Brothers Band, The Band, Leonard Cohen, Ry Cooder, John Fahey, Dan Hicks, Little Feat, Los Lobos, Randy Newman, Sir Douglas Quintet/ Doug Sahm/ Texas Tornados, Bruce Springsteen, Derek Trucks, Neil Young, Warren Zevon (14)
And that’s another vote, I guess, for America.
There are, no doubt, other ways you could compare and contrast the two options on your way to a decision. One possibility that crossed my mind on the morning walk was to line up reasonably similar acts from North America and Britain and see which one I preferred if forced to a choice.
That could have meant a match between, say, Dylan and Costello or Richard Thompson, but it didn’t take too long to realise that that one wouldn't work out.
A glance at the lists I've put together suggests that if there's one thing that unites all those performers it's the fact that they're all, basically, incomparable.
Who, for example, is the Brit equivalent of Leonard Cohen?
No, having reached this point it's pretty much a case of looking back over the preceding detail and counting up the number of Britains and Americas, and seeing where you go from there.
And with the vote at 5-4 in favour of America, perhaps I should just leave it at that.
The problem with that is the implied prospect of a world without Thompson, Costello and the Bonzos.
When I look at it in that light, much as I’d hate to have to live without the names on those North American lists, it’d be a bleak old world where the presence of the doom and gloom-meister and the absurdist irreverence of the Bonzos would be essential to Hughesy’s continued mental well-being.
So, Britain.