In some recent researching for my podcast, I went on a tangent into punk rock for an hour or two. It was fun when I was introduced to it in my teens (I never listened to rock music as a kid, and in some ways I’m still hungrily trying to recapture those lost listening years), and it’s still appealing to me now.
There were memories and discoveries aplenty from ThoughtCo’s list of most influential albums. But that one is all over the place in time, and a few of my personal favorites were missing—specifically, Bad Religion and X—so there’s also the L.A. Weekly’s excellent top 20 West-Coast-centric albums. (Although, how you gonna have a top 20 without Fear: The Record?)
What’s the big deal? Much of the punk aesthetic is a reaction to the pretentious studio practices of the 70s, as I mentioned yesterday, and the idea that anyone can—nay, should—make rock ‘n’ roll. And don’t get me wrong, I love Alan Parsons, Earth, Wind & Fire, Fleetwood Mac, and Steely Dan, too. There’s something deeply inspiring, though, about three or four musicians just quickly tearing it up with no flash, letting the power of the songs speak for themselves. So it is with visual art. Jackson Pollock creating something new using house paint on a plain, unstretched canvas on the floor. Basquiat doing the same with cheap oilsticks and spray paint over fencing.
Sometimes you just want to make things, and you don’t have time to be careful or make it polished and elaborate. Simple is compelling and evocative, too.