Blake Hennon
Sensitivity during tragic times isn’t always censorship
Currently making
the rounds through mass e-mails, band message boards and print media is a
list circulated within Clear Channel Communications, the United States'
largest owner of radio stations. This piping-hot conversation piece is a
compilation of songs deemed as possibly "lyrically inappropriate" for play
after the World Trade Center and Pentagon incidents.
The list has
largely been circulated and discussed under the guise that the listed songs
are "banned" from play on Clear Channel stations; this claim is untrue.
Apparently assembled by various program directors at Clear Channel
stations, the list has simply been offered to help stations keep
sensitivity in mind during the last few weeks. Individual stations have
followed, consulted or ignored this list. Others have played songs not on
the list and received listener complaints, such as Washington's WASH 97.1
FM, which heard from a concerned listener after a DJ played Kool and the
Gang's "Celebrate." But at some of the company's New York stations, listed
songs such as John Lennon's "Imagine" have been among the most requested
and played.
In a time of
crisis in the United States, there will inevitably be a debate over
censorship and sensitivity. Clear Channel has not censored its stations'
play lists beyond the damage radio deregulation has already wrought on our
nation's airwaves by limiting diversity in voices during the gradual
consolidation of national media (the company in question owns over 1,000
stations). That, however, is another column for another week. What remains
open for discussion is not Clear Channel's fictional impropriety, but the
appearance of such impropriety and the attention and debate it has
incited.
The generation
of this list appears to me as a potentially positive movement that arose
from emotional concern, but I don't know the motives of each person who
contributed to it. The idea that songs were temporarily dropped because of
financial concerns about offending advertising demographics is almost too
cynical to stomach, but radio is big business. The program directors had
reason for concern. Radio profits are garnered from advertising, and
advertising revenue is generated on the basis of listener reaction, so
removing songs from play during a time of crisis because of high potential
for complaints is too complex an issue to be addressed in strict terms of
right and wrong. Financial issues may have been considered, but I like to
believe that calls on play lists were driven by emotional and sympathetic
initiatives. More than 5,000 people died two weeks ago, and radio stations
considering not spinning already worn copies of AC/DC's "Highway to Hell"
for a few weeks hardly seems worth any attention.
Individual
stations choose what they play, and self-censorship in the name of
sensitivity is not necessarily a bad thing. For my first radio show at KSCR
this semester, I composed the play list two weeks in advance. The attacks
occurred during the week following the writing of that play list. When the
time came a week later to get ready for the show, I looked at what I'd
scribbled two weeks previously, took out a pen and crossed out The Clash's
"City of the Dead," which isn't about planes crashing into buildings, much
less anyone dying in any physical sense. It's about being young and bored
in the town you grew up in. I took it off despite the rather obvious
lyrical meanings, because it didn't feel right to play it. There would have
been an appearance of impropriety, and I felt that willfully creating that
appearance was just as bad as playing something obviously mean-spirited. My
American Civil Liberties Union card didn't disintegrate as my pen marked
the song's title off the page or when I put the disc back in its
folder.
Censorship is a
valid issue in the aftermath of the terrorist attacks, but the Clear
Channel list is ultimately a faulty impetus for debate.A more suitable
issue would be something like bands altering track lists on upcoming CDs.
The Strokes' debut album has already been issued in the U.K., and an import
version exists in the U.S. The domestic release will arrive in stores in
two weeks, and there are rumors that it will have one track missing from
the earlier versions. Radio stations issued advance copies of the album
have been asked to not play the song "New York City Cops." The chorus of
the song quotes a girl as saying New York City cops / They ain't too smart.
But the Strokes are an immensely talented but largely unknown band, and
given the present musical climate, the release of their first album
probably won't make huge waves in the mainstream anyway.
Sensitivity
isn't always censorship. The Clear Channel list and the Strokes' album were
not generated or regulated by any government agency. Tipper Gore isn't
holding semi-legal hearings in front of Congress. Sensitivity in the short
run is not going to keep all Rage Against the Machine songs off the radio
forever (yes, the Clear Channel list often warns of two or three songs from
a single band, but Rage gets the sole "all songs" distinction), though
hopefully Savage Garden's "Crash and Burn" will be forgotten during its
time off the air. Censorship is a vital issue, but the debate in the music
world these past few weeks has been argued on an illusion. The national
moods are temporary; music is forever.
Copyright 2001 by the Daily Trojan. All rights reserved.
This article was published in Vol. 144, No. 20 (Tuesday, September 25, 2001), beginning on page 7 and ending on page 9.