In my childhood we peered between
[FCC: public airways belong to everyone.]
slatted media-control fences, won-
[We cannot allow any but market forces to]
dering where these LP's we saw came
[dictate who will get licenses, who will be]
from, artists we'd never heard, never seen
[allowed to own a broadcast station, what]
over our airwaves. Sometimes these fen-
[those stations will play. If young people]
ces presented themselves as white, snowy
[represent compelling market demogra-]
static on those TV channels which deli-
[phics, market dynamics will act as incentives]
vered no signals. We scoured back
[to serve them.] [Record exec: one cannot]
pages in magazines, looking for 'just one
[suppose your average teenager knows]
more' to satisfy our latent curios-
[good music from bad. We don't truly get]
ity. Our comics straddled two worlds to sur-
[this so-called music ourselves, you un-]
vive. Real good ones, 'too offensive,' hid in
[derstand; certain performers make]
head shops near bongs, fringed
[better stars than others. We help main-]
leather jackets, patchouli oil. Even shows
[tain morality, give kids something to do,]
we liked fenced us this way, making us
[keep them from getting into trouble.]
endure dog acts, plate spinners,
[Sure, we pay to get our records on]
Borscht Belt comedians to catch
[the air. Capitalism's the name of the]
three minutes from "Today's Latest
[game, baby, how the world works.]
Greatest Group, the..." Yardbirds.
[You don't mind if I light this cigar?]
Troggs. Beatles. Elvis. Lovin' Spoonful.
[Your local politician: Zoning laws]
Car radios came with buttons, we
[can be used creatively to keep this]
thought, to facilitate quick-punch-
[craziness in check. If you really don't]
ing from 'that awful song by...'
[want your child to listen to this...stuff,]
only to hear it anyway on our city's only
[don't let them buy it. It's how Ameri-]
other pop music station. We saw fences
[ca works, donchaknow? {wink}]
everywhere: Midwest, small towns, the
[Now remember to vote for me next month!]
South, anywhere without "a scene".
We chipped at, kicked at, hammered
at, pulled at those fences. Bit by
bit those slatted boundaries fell.
[Where ya bin'? I've sang these words]
Ninety-minute TV concerts at
[every day. Never saw you here before.]
midnight. Imports in our record stores.
[Listen to me. This ain't jazz, it ain't classi-]
Lyrics about living, loving, dying, in-
[cal, it ain't nutthin' but music, dude!]
stead of "wake up little Susie" or
[Ya payin' attention? Hey! I'm talking]
"Tell Laura I love her...", we heard
[here! Ah, forget it. You don't get it.]
Woodstock's Fish chant. We cheered
Making up nickel bags. We sang
"let's spend the night together."
We gave Peace a Chance. We
looked around suddenly, re-
alizing those fences were gone, but
we'd changed—we've fenced ourselves
in, we've fenced those who come after.
7/100
