What is the purpose of rock'n'roll?
Is rock'n'roll supposed to soothe the soul of the savage beast? Is it supposed to re-engineer the framework of art, culture, and power? Is it supposed to obliterate your freak-ass mind and make you dance like a hydroelectric grizzly bear.
Probably.
Those are all important functions of rock'n'roll, and they're all valid. But none of those things is the primary purpose of rock music; they are all peripheral. What rock music is supposed to do is save the world. That's its job. Any rock song that does not save the world is a failure. And this is why rock is struggling in 2004. Right now, television is saving more people than pop music.
I used to think reality television was successful because of narcissism. Later, I decided it was actually successful because of voyeurism. Later still, I concluded that it was successful because of the way it changed our perception of celebrity. However, I've had another realization: People love reality television because reality television can save your life. It can give you a better job (The Apprentice), a better car (Pimp My Ride), an awesome house (Trading Spaces) that looks completely gay (Queer Eye for the Straight Guy), a drag queen's body (The Swan), and Kate Winslet's cheekbones (I Want a Famous Face). Reality television does what rock music once did: It gives us hope. Rock music has lost its way.
Last night, I watched a new documentary called MC5: A True Testimonial. This film accomplished something that Trainspotting, Requiem for a Dream, and Wonderland could not do: It made me terrified to take drugs. The surviving members of MC5 are the most burned-out, über-delusional morons I've ever witnessed. But those Detroit-based bozos had at least one good idea: Along with their nutjob manager, John Sinclair, they founded the White Panther Party, a political-action group that ate a lot of acid and fired automatic weapons at trees. Obviously, this had only a marginal effect on U.S. policy. Nonetheless, I always like to see young people doing something. That is why we here at Spin magazine HQ are creating our own fringe political organization, and we're hoping that myriad rock luminaries will join us. It is time for change. It is time for revolution. It is time for the Weather Panthers.
You've undoubtedly heard of '60s bomb-throwers the Weather Underground, and you've undoubtedly heard of the Black Panthers. That was the past. The Weather Panthers are the future. We plan to force-feed C-4 plastic explosives to leopards, which will then be trained to blow up Ralph Nader's electric car and the place where Condoleezza Rice gets her hair done. We didn't want it to come to this, but there is no other option. Let's face it: The world couldn't be much more fucked than it is right now. We have a president who casually asserts that "the verdict is still out" on the theory of evolution; this means that the man who's helping decide the Palestinains' fate has thoughts such as "I'm not sure if we should change the border demarcations of Israel, especially since there were dinosaurs on the West Bank only 6,000 years ago." This is disquieting. Moreover, I'm pretty sure an Islamic fundamentalist sleeper cell will detonate a dirty bomb at LAX if John Kerry doesn't win this election, and it will probably happen even if he does. This is similarly disquieting.
This is why we need the Weather Panthers; we need to get popular musicians involved with the overthrow of our government. Sure, Bono tried to save the world by touring Africa with former U.S. Treasury Secretary Paul O'Neill, but that wasn't enough (especially since O'Neill only hit .288 for his entire career). We need rockers who will go for the jugular (in case we need to overthrow circus jugglers). As such, we are beginning the Weather Panther recruitment process posthaste. The first guy we want is Kanye West, because anybody who can rap with a broken jaw is our kind of mofo. We also want Kiss, because they already have their own army. We want the Strokes, because the revolution needs to be very, very sexy. Jack White might make a good Weather Panther, although he'd probably demand that we fight exclusively with 18th-century muskets. I'd like to get Interpol involved, since they've already proven themselves as the world's preeminent global police force. And we need Courtney Love, since all the best soldiers are insane. This is the time, my children. Kick out the jams, pantherfuckers!
