On Thursday, January 27, 2011, President Obama will once again connect with the nation in that time-honored fashion: he’s having a Youtube party! After numerous events including Yahoo discussions and Twitter-side chats, the nation’s Youtube users will be able to submit questions and hope they will make it through to our president (Twitter questions are also being incorporated into the Youtube event; unfortunately Chatroulette users will have to put their pants on and switch over to one of those sites if they want to become involved). Senior Presidential Advisor David Plouffe noted that "[t]hroughout the week, we'll have plenty of ways for you to get involved and ask questions of President Obama and other senior administration officials about the State of the Union address.”
While the effort to reach out is laudable in its conception, denizens of the internet may want to consider something: this seemingly fresh approach to communicating with the public has its roots in a long-standing tradition. Historically, politicians have always seized upon emerging media outlets to disseminate their message rather than to truly engage.
In 1800, Thomas Jefferson used the first “presidential newspaper,” the National Intelligencer, as a platform to communicate his ideas and vilify federalists ahead of a contentious election. Ten years after the first State of the Union was broadcast on the radio in 1923, Franklin Roosevelt used radio to deliver his famed Fireside Chats, a landmark moment in the relationship between government and the governed in the U.S. In an article from the Journal of Communication, DM Ryfe reminds us that Roosevelt used common language in these chats both to “close the perceptual gap between him and his mass audience,” and define the terms of what the relationship between a politician and his constituents should be (citation below). Sound at all familiar?
We know that State of the Union addresses are unique opportunities to involve the public in the political discourse. It is that rare moment to hear the president’s book report on America without a barrage of politically charged questions and postures. What may ring true about the push to expand the dialogue surrounding Obama’s second State of the Union might be taken with a grain of salt, however.
In an article for Presidential Studies Quarterly, Jason Barbaras discusses the influence of the media on the public during these kinds of addresses. He states that while the public is generally more informed and interested during these times, they are far more knowledgeable about items that are heavily covered in the media (citation below). With major media outlets struggling to cover salient topics objectively, it begs some deep consideration of how we are digesting information in today's saturated age.
The central question to consider with this online exchange, then, will regard how distilled the dialogue will really be. Much like the first time he did this, Obama will answer the questions that received the most votes – but there is little information available regarding the actual screening process beyond this. It is important to remember the well-documented history of American presidents and their efforts to shape the discourse to their liking. Jefferson ostensibly created his own newspaper to spread his word on his terms. Is it possible Mr. Obama will chart the same course?
It will be interesting to see what shape this Youtube session will take. Is this a moment for new media to emerge as a true counterbalance to selective-reporting mainstream media outlets? And will this have a similarly influential (and potentially democratizing) effect on the public’s engagement in the political? And what about people that don't have access to the internet: the homeless, the economically depressed, the luddites? How do we incorporate their voices into the discussion - or have we forgotten about them in all the exciting techno-hubbub? Stay tuned to find out.
Ryfe, D. (1999), Franklin Roosevelt and the fireside chats. Journal of Communication, 49: 80–103. doi: 10.1111/j.1460-2466.1999.tb02818.x
BARABAS, J. (2008), Presidential Policy Initiatives: How the Public Learns about State of the Union Proposals from the Mass Media. Presidential Studies Quarterly, 38: 195–222. doi: 10.1111/j.1741-5705.2008.02636.x
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Black Merda - The Folks From Mother's Mixer
Detroit’s history of rock and roll is studded with icons. You know the names, I won’t list them for you. While many of generation Y’s music enthusiasts have begun to rediscover how to kick out jams and be your dog, a less familiar name strikes my fancy as damn near the greatest fucking thing Detroit Rock City ever produced: Black Merda, an all-black psych-rock outfit playing divisive political tunes in the immediate post-rebellion landscape of early 70′s Detroit. The balls. Also, they used to be the Temptations’ backing band before that.
Black Merda’s compilation record, The Folks From Mother’s Mixer, collects every track from their self-titled Black Merda and follow-up Long Burn the Fire. The self-proclaimed “First Black Rock Band” managed to synthesize psychedelia, gospel, classic rock, and funk, into a streamlined aesthetic that recalls the influence of Sly & The Family Stone, Parliament, Jimi Hendrix, Cream, The Band, and both Motown and Stax Records. They manage, somehow, to sound fresh and vital to this day. I do think that Arthur Lee might take issue with that self-appointed label.
One of the first moments that truly grabs you can be found in the instrumental “Over and Over.” You can feel the summer sun of Detroit beating down on you as guitarists Anthony and Charlie Hawkins create a drugged-out, delay-pedal-dripping soundscape to get lost in. As soon as you’re lulled into a steamy coma, you’re snapped back with the sass and bite of political funk. The track “Ashamed” is the grooviest admonishment of indifference to suffering I’ve ever heard. This tension between sending a brutal message (their name does a good job of this, no?) while inspiring head nods is achieved through the cinematography of their songs. They were a patient band that knew how to pace a song, how to crescendo and break it down, showing you a story even when they aren’t telling it.
Sometimes Black Merda wails, moans and funks – but sometimes they craft a melancholic, mournful pop sweetness that is clearly informed by the towering history of the Motown Sound, observable in tracks like “For You” “My Mistake,” and “Reality.” The track “Reality,” is clearly an example of this, but always the innovators, there’s a bit of The Band in there too. It is catchy, danceable, stays in you, and is incredibly sad. “Reality / Will cause your fantasy / to die.” I imagine I’d share a similar outlook if I bore witness to the National Guard opening fire on housing projects in my own city.
With a nod toward history, Black Merda will throw in a few straight up gospel tunes and interludes decorated with soulful harmonies and slide guitar. In a musical culture where the acknowledgment of commercial rock music’s indebtedness to black traditions is scant, this choice is downright brazen. Especially in Detroit. In the early 70′s. This cannot be overstated.
Black Merda is one of those hidden gems that is gaining relevance in recent times. Here’s hoping that the rediscovery of their catalog provides a refreshing reminder that giving a shit about what you send into the world as an artist – musicianship, songwriting, message, all of it – may be rewarded in another life, if not this one.
Overall Rating: 9.6
Black Merda’s compilation record, The Folks From Mother’s Mixer, collects every track from their self-titled Black Merda and follow-up Long Burn the Fire. The self-proclaimed “First Black Rock Band” managed to synthesize psychedelia, gospel, classic rock, and funk, into a streamlined aesthetic that recalls the influence of Sly & The Family Stone, Parliament, Jimi Hendrix, Cream, The Band, and both Motown and Stax Records. They manage, somehow, to sound fresh and vital to this day. I do think that Arthur Lee might take issue with that self-appointed label.
One of the first moments that truly grabs you can be found in the instrumental “Over and Over.” You can feel the summer sun of Detroit beating down on you as guitarists Anthony and Charlie Hawkins create a drugged-out, delay-pedal-dripping soundscape to get lost in. As soon as you’re lulled into a steamy coma, you’re snapped back with the sass and bite of political funk. The track “Ashamed” is the grooviest admonishment of indifference to suffering I’ve ever heard. This tension between sending a brutal message (their name does a good job of this, no?) while inspiring head nods is achieved through the cinematography of their songs. They were a patient band that knew how to pace a song, how to crescendo and break it down, showing you a story even when they aren’t telling it.
Sometimes Black Merda wails, moans and funks – but sometimes they craft a melancholic, mournful pop sweetness that is clearly informed by the towering history of the Motown Sound, observable in tracks like “For You” “My Mistake,” and “Reality.” The track “Reality,” is clearly an example of this, but always the innovators, there’s a bit of The Band in there too. It is catchy, danceable, stays in you, and is incredibly sad. “Reality / Will cause your fantasy / to die.” I imagine I’d share a similar outlook if I bore witness to the National Guard opening fire on housing projects in my own city.
With a nod toward history, Black Merda will throw in a few straight up gospel tunes and interludes decorated with soulful harmonies and slide guitar. In a musical culture where the acknowledgment of commercial rock music’s indebtedness to black traditions is scant, this choice is downright brazen. Especially in Detroit. In the early 70′s. This cannot be overstated.
Black Merda is one of those hidden gems that is gaining relevance in recent times. Here’s hoping that the rediscovery of their catalog provides a refreshing reminder that giving a shit about what you send into the world as an artist – musicianship, songwriting, message, all of it – may be rewarded in another life, if not this one.
Overall Rating: 9.6
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