From Disco to Hip-Hop Dear Chris, Hmm ... Feedbag for Morons. Isn't that a Dead Kennedys album? I don't know, maybe the great, big, arena-rocking songs are masses-opiating tools of social control, but I really can't believe that everything in the pop marketplace is just numbly imbibed by a passive audience. (Also, isn't pinning today's celebrity culture on rock letting the tabloids, glossies, talk shows, Hollywood, etc., etc., off a bit easy? Maybe Elvis was the first modern superstar--riding the emergent nexus of TV, film, and records to a new level of global acclaim--but I hardly blame American Bandstand for O.J. and Princess Di.) As someone who routinely got his head pounded into school lockers by Led Zeppelin fans, I'm pretty aware of rock's role in fostering unthinking conformism. Still, I think Miller's somewhat overheated "Dionysian" riff does make an important point: that even a music with the crassest commercial aims can have liberating, transformative effects in the world. At least on other musicians. Had you heard Miller's anecdote about Dylan mishearing the Beatles before? I really liked that one, where he thought the line "I can't hide, I can't hide" was "I get high, I get high," and concluded it was a "song about dope." Not exactly Das Kapital , I realize, but the tale is suggestive of rock's power as charged, volatile, as they say, "open text." If Dylan's ears weren't caught up by the Beatles' sound first, he never would have imbued the song with such possibilities--which I have to believe were pretty subversive back in 1964. Whether or not rock still has such possibilities depends, I think, on your definitions of "rock." One thing that makes a popular music rock , as a verb, is its ability to take private but common feelings and put them into a shared public language. This phenomenon gets more interesting as the culture splinters and technology creates new languages--which is one of my main problems with Miller's critique. As a critical theorist himself, Miller must know how subjective his rock narrative is (even the jump-cut structure suggests it), yet he still seems to present pop music as the product of the same shared, single history. I'd say that construct breaks down near the end of his book. While I don't mean to make too great a claim for disco, I do think it represents a moment in which cultural forces that Miller doesn't account for realigned in a way that changed "rock." The polarizing "Disco Sucks" movement revealed a mass audience not just splintering, but clashing along certain demographic lines. Meanwhile, the music's sound and technology was providing the sonic space and public rituals for hip-hop--as electrifying a pop form as I've ever heard. I'd say NWA's "Fuck Tha Police" was every bit the protest song that "The Times They Are A-Changing" was and way more fun. I'd also say similar, if less broadly significant upheavals are happening in the worlds of house, techno, and other electronic music even now. Musics that emphasize rhythm and texture over melody and lyrics aren't necessarily apolitical or content-free, but they do tend to occur on narrower bandwidths. Some smart guy--Cocteau I think--said that style is a way of saying complicated things simply. No, I don't think Smashmouth is saying anything too complicated. But others well within pop's debased, commercialized, 50-year-old landscape--Nas, say, or Beck, or Pavement, Radiohead, P.J. Harvey--often are. Nowadays, you just have to work a little harder to hear it. Which Miller, by his own admission, stopped doing over a decade ago. This raises a question we've both evaded. Is this book really necessary? Is Miller's style or his point of view compelling enough to merit another go-round on the rock-history tour bus? Yours, Chris P.S. I don't think your sentiments are fogeyish or undiscriminating. I must, however, give you kudos for being the first writer I've ever seen limn Beck's Godley Creme influence.