Some critics like to write about songs, and what is in them. Some of the songs Greil Marcus writes about I know and love too. Others I don’t. One of the songs he writes about in The History of Rock And Roll in Ten Songs is Money, written by Berry Gordy, sung by Barrett Strong, and Motown’s first hit. I first heard it when the Beatles did it five years later, and have loved it ever since, though I’m a bit ambivalent about the message.
For those unfamiliar, it begins, The best things in life are free/But you can keep them for the birds and bees. That’s a very American kind of line, a line that, if people in other countries didn’t agree, we’d impose it on them. Money is the most important thing? What else is new?
It’s funny, though, because money is also mysterious. Does any other species on earth use it? It seems real, especially the effects of not having enough of it, but it also seems somehow imaginary. How does inflation happen, for instance? Why has making coins lighter made money worth less? How does money work when it’s not based on a precious metal like gold? It always seems to be losing value, but still works more or less the same.
One thing we do know is that money is addictive. When you don’t have enough, you’ll know it, just like with any other addiction. And like any other addiction, it cushions everything–or seems to. It insulates, it takes the pain away. Or at least it’s easy to believe it does, or will. That’s why the Europeans who settled the Americas were desperate for money, whether it was money they could directly steal, or money they could make through taking advantage of others, wrenching money out of the landscape, out of slaves, or anyone else they could dominate.
Gold was the first thing many colonists looked for, especially the Spanish. Slaves were the second thing. Religious freedom was a lot less important to most. And religious freedom was only for the colonists (if them), not the natives or the slaves. Religious freedom was a fairly new concept by the time the Americas were discovered, and a lot of people didn’t believe in it (some still don’t).
Money don’t get everything, it’s true/But what it don’t get, I can’t use….
It’s interesting that Jesus didn’t seem to think much of money, saying things like, “You cannot serve God and Mammon”, and driving the money-changers (who made it possible for ordinary people to buy animals to sacrifice) out of the Temple.
I doubt he objected to the concept of money, which makes it easy to purchase necessary things, to trade between individuals and countries, and pay for the necessary things citizens share in common, like roads, bridges, schools, police forces, fire forces, and other services everybody uses. It was the addiction, expressed in other religious traditions as attachment, which he called an impediment to entering the kingdom of heaven. What does it profit a man to gain the whole world and lose his own soul? directly addresses that problem. But gaining the whole world is no less popular now than it was in Jesus’s time.
Money Changes Everything, by Tom Gray of the Brains, was the polar opposite in effect of Money. It’s the song of someone who believed someone loved him, and is stunned to find out he was wrong. When he confronts her, she says, Yeah well I know, but when we did there was one thing we weren’t thinking of And that’s money. Money changes everything.
Money is no longer equivalent to freedom, it’s a way of persecuting anyone who doesn’t have it. When Cyndi Lauper took the song over from Tom Gray she turned the pronouns around, so it’s the woman telling the story, and putting the man down as a loser. And that expresses a crucial truth about America: it’s not enough that you win; for you to be satisfied, I have to lose, too. That’s why hardly any powerful people take the “…all men are created equal” phrase in the Declaration of Independence seriously.
Marcus quotes a scene in which Brad Pitt plays a hit man who wants to get paid for some past work, and is talking with a man who wants to stiff him. He calls Thomas Jefferson a hypocrite who was quite willing to let some of his inconveniently dark-skinned children live as slaves so he could go to bed with his black mistress and drink the wine he so enjoyed. America, Pitt concludes, has always been a business. And then demands to get paid.
Money expresses the euphoria of wealth. Or maybe the euphoria of NEW wealth. Are the wealthy who are USED to being wealthy euphoric about it? If they are, why are many of them so driven to acquire more and more wealth?
About sixty years ago there were almost no billionaires. Now there are relatively many, and their wealth taken together is as great as most of the rest of the world. They find it easy to manipulate the political system to amass even more wealth, often at the expense of the lower class people whom they must look at with contempt, as Mitt Romney expressed it during his campaign seven years ago.
The forty-seven per cent of the population he claimed were “takers” were primarily the elderly, the children, and the disabled, as well as people maneuvered into positions in which they couldn’t support themselves. Like the middle-aged middle managers who got fired to be replaced by younger workers the employers wouldn’t have to pay as well, the ones who were then called “overqualified” as an excuse not to hire them even for jobs that would pay less.
That was efficiency of the type that benefits the shareholders and CEOs of big corporations.
A Sears executive of the 1950s said that he had to make the shareholders happy, but couldn’t consider himself successful unless he also satisfied his customers and employees. In the more than sixty years since, Sears apparently converted to pleasing shareholders only. When they recently declared bankruptcy they gave executives large bonuses while shorting ordinary workers on their severance pay. Another example of this being a two-track society in which nobody has to consider the situation of anyone at the bottom of the social ladder.
The two songs are examples of how great songs have the potential for reinterpretation that makes them great art. The Beatles, in the opinion of Marcus, took Money beyond the interpretation Barrett Strong gave it: Lauper took Money Changes Everything and entirely changed the context, greatly enlarging the meaning.
That’s only one of the ten songs of the book’s title. In the chapter All I Could Do Was Cry, after a song by Etta James, the author depicts a scene in a movie about Leonard Chess, who founded Chess Records, and recorded many great artists, including James. (Muddy Waters, Howling Wolf, Little Walter, Buddy Guy, Chuck Berry, and others).
In the film there’s a scene about James, played by Beyoncé, in which the actor playing Leonard Chess taunts her into delivering a better singing performance than she may have thought she could. James’ comment on that song was that she thought she was play-acting, but would soon live through the scenario of seeing another woman take her man away from her. Marcus notes that she was 22 at the time, but sounded as if she could be sixty.
James started young in the music business with great talent as both singer and songwriter. She had a hit young, then went through about five years of performing oblivion, getting introduced to drugs on the way. Eventually she had more success, but also struggled for years with drug habits. I got to see her in a small club about twenty years after she’d begun her career, but didn’t know who I was watching (also true when I saw Muddy Waters perform).
The taunting was an accurate reconstruction of how George Goldner treated Arlene Smith, lead singer of the Chantels, who was only seventeen, and sometimes, Goldner said, it worked, as Marcus tells us it worked on Beyoncé in the movie.
And it was Beyoncé who got to sing At Last at Barack Obama’s inauguration instead of Etta James, who had had a hit with the song long before Beyoncé was born. Another example of the pioneer being forgotten in favor of the younger star, as when Jackie Robinson became the first black player to begin the desegregation of Major League Baseball instead of Satchel Paige, who was much older and possibly the most famous player of the Negro Leagues. Paige did get some share of fame the next season in helping the Cleveland Indians win the pennant, though. Etta James missed out on the biggest stage.
There are other songs and artists portrayed in the book. Buddy Holly, who left such a large number of written and recorded songs in only about two and a half years. An account of Robert Johnson, and what might have happened if he hadn’t been poisoned in 1938, and possibly survived to have become a record producer. That account ends with him being asked to perform at Barack Obama’s presidential inauguration, and refusing because artists are expected to perform for free. A reminder that, while musical artists (especially black artists, but by no means only them) have often been robbed by powerful people in the music business. Leonard Chess was allegedly one of the robbers, though he seems also to have been concerned about the artists he recorded. A tremendous amount of great music has entered public consciousness through that business, and survived. As badly as black artists were treated by record companies, publishing companies, and agents, at least they were given opportunities, and many of them both succeeded and greatly influenced their contemporaries and later generations.
Much of the message of the book seems to be that rock & roll produced music that may have seemed to be superficial, but often wasn’t. Who would have expected Buddy Holly, who died at age 22, to still be remembered, and with reverence, today? Because he influenced the young Beatles (who took their name after his band, the Crickets) and others.
Not so many remember the Flaming Groovies, whose song, Shake Some Action, Marcus writes about as an inspiration. Nor Joy Division (named after Nazi prostitute organizations), but Marcus writes about them too. He’s a rock and roll partisan.
Of course other forms of music can be passionate too, but rock and roll, which dominated the record industry from the 1950s at least into the 80s, was often denounced as a genre, not just as individual pieces, because it was perceived as dangerous music by a lot of people. And it was!
It specifically rebelled against many of the white societal norms of the 1950s, especially in the 1960s when the civil rights movement and Vietnam had given people a lot of specific things TO rebel against.
Of course the lifestyle was dangerous too, and the attempted transition from the sometimes stifling conformity of the 50s to a kind of anarchic version of freedom popularized in the 60s often didn’t go too well, besides arousing resentment from the “good” boys and girls who did what their parents told them, and didn’t get to experience the liberties taken by so many of their generation. Those are the people who use liberty as a watchword now, and mean by that an excuse to mistreat anyone they happen to dislike. At least some of the customs they like to follow have to do with excluding the people they don’t like from power. A too tightly organized society is no better than one not organized enough.
The music business has been a microcosm of American society in its idolization of money and its enabling of cheating the artists to the benefit of the agents, managers, and record companies. In spite of that, what a wonderful century of music the twentieth century was!
Not only did jazz, blues, and country music emerge as technology allowed music to be recorded and sold, but so did rock and roll, gospel, soul, rap, and all their collisions and permutations. Even classical music, though fewer people listened to it or participated in it.
The song Money could have been depressing, but wasn’t. It was the joy of music in spite of robbery and fraud. The lyrics may have been simplistic, but they were susceptible to redefinition in unexpected ways, as is and was true of many great songs. The spirit coming through in spite of everything.