Final project: Of the Sublime and Sonic Youth

“Of the Sublime and Sonic Youth”

While traversing the complicated web of the rhetoric of the sublime, I discovered that nearly every attempted definition of the sublime—from the ancient rhetoricians to the more contemporary philosophers—discusses both the immediacy and aesthetic merit of sublime artifacts, moments or experiences. From poetry to landscapes, from Oscar winning films to architecture, theoreticians discuss each within the context of the breath-taking moment. Yet, these definitions largely ignore Hume’s sense of historical sublimity—a lasting beauty that grows within an artist’s catalog as the artist transforms from game-changer to public presence to icon. This paper will examine the works of the band Sonic Youth within the hermeneutics of sublimity debates and the gaze of contemporary music journalism to show that regardless of a critic’s personal, subjective taste regarding music, this particular band has left an undeniable mark on the aesthetics of popular music, and that their historical impact alone is sublime in nature. Further, this paper will use the band to define three characteristics of what should be considered within the historical sublime: historical notoriety, maturation and growth and, finally, challenging existing notions of art.

Longinus, in his “On the Sublime,” sets up basic criteria for examining the sublimity of ancient Greek writings. His criteria includes: confidence in speaking (which is presumed), strong and inspired emotion, certain kinds of figures (which I interpret to mean metaphors), noble diction and, finally, dignified and elevated word arrangement (350). Much later, George Campbell argues that the sublime, “distend(s) the imagination with some vast conception, and quite ravishes the soul” (903). They, of course, wrote primarily about rhetorical and poetic sublimity, but their rules can easily be applied to other art forms. As notions of the sublime and rhetoric grew, so did its definitions. According to contemporary philosopher Guy Sircello, ideas of the sublime morphed in the nineteenth century to include natural scenes such as waterfalls, mountaintops and other potentially breathtaking natural wonders (1). This paper treats those arguments as a completely separate strand of the sublime that holds very little place in this discussion, taking a page from Kant’s belief that “we express ourselves incorrectly if we call any object of nature sublime” (83-84). Nor does this paper subscribe to Campbell’s and other rhetoricians assertions that the sublime and religion are linked. However, Sircello’s contemporary definition of the sublime, that a “sublime experience often professes to ‘see’ beyond human powers of knowledge and description” and that “the sublime is inaccessible to rational thought” remains relevant to aesthetic studies (1). Throughout Critique of Judgment, Kant sees a correlation between beauty and the sublime, while arguing that beauty is widely accepted by all, but that understanding the sublime takes reason and imagination. Lyotard, in his seminal work, “The Sublime and the Avant-Garde,” discusses the idea of time within the sublime; whether or not there is a “Here and Now” quality to art. Lyotard’s sense of immediacy cemented itself within the sublime, or at least the in-the-moment avant-garde. As he says, human thought, “seeks to determine what has already been thought, written, painted or socialized in order to determine what hasn’t been” (Lyotard 454). Only original artworks that are not simple facsimiles qualify for his sublime, thereby challenging earlier notions of widely-accepted sublime creations, such as the Mona Lisa or even Homer’s Odyssey, which recants mythological tales.

Applied to contemporary studies of the aesthetic merit of popular music, the majority of these criteria remain valid when pop music critics discuss popular songs. However, I argue these criteria lack three important notions regarding the sublimity of an artistic career, including participants in contemporary indie rock, the lexicon of which often challenges preconceived notions of pop music. The first posits that music, as well as any notable artistic pieces, cannot reach the level of the sublime without achieving some form of historical notoriety or import through some form of political motivations behind the music (the music, after all, must be remembered). These political motivations do not need to enter into the governmental realm; social or cultural politics may prove to be more important to the discussion of sublimity of contemporary music, which tends to be incredibly short-lived when compared to artworks such as the Sistine Chapel or the Mona Lisa. Secondly, a musical artist must show some form of mutability or growth from album to album in order to qualify for the contemporary sublime. Unlike literature, where one great book can get an author canonized, in music historical circles, those who engage in a lasting career with successful personality swaps, such as David Bowie, The Beatles and Elton John tend to last longer in people’s minds. Lastly, and most importantly, the music considered must challenge either existing notions of what music “is” or challenge inexperienced ears and take them to another realm of understanding of what music can become. As such, this is not a study of one-hit wonders or a single album. It is a discussion of the sustainability of artistry over time and deconstruction of traditional sublime studies. That is not to say that a one-hit wonder or a hip “flavor of the month” cannot reach sublimity for a single document. Those documents, largely pop songs, tend to fall within the bounds of the established definitions of the immediate, subjective sublime, which this paper aims to amend due to the kitschy nature of and perceived lack of aesthetic worth of much pop music. After all, as Hume argues “a real genius, the longer his works endure, and the more wide they are spread, the more sincere is the admiration which he meets with” (833).

I chose the band Sonic Youth—whose core is comprised of guitarist/vocalist Thurston Moore, guitarist/bassist/vocalist Kim Gordon, guitarist/vocalist Lee Ranaldo and drummer Steve Shelley—for a number of reasons. The first emerged as I thought about what band had the most difficult music to understand in contrast with their popularity. In fact, when I first attempted to listen to the band years ago, I did not have the musical grammar yet established to understand the art they created. I hadn’t heard their precursors, such as the more experimental portions of The Beatles’ White Album, Captain Beefheart, The Velvet Underground or the British no wave punk band Wire. Sonic Youth’s music alienated me because of this lack of context. Given more grammatical understanding of the band, I began to understand their position in music history and in particular, how they made hardcore music “hip.” I also chose Sonic Youth because of their intimate ties to the art world due in part to Gordon’s pre-Sonic Youth career in visual art museums and the band’s work with avant-garde composers such as Glenn Branca (who released the band’s first two records). Additionally, Moore writes numerous journalistic pieces for underground magazines about music, culture and art and Ranaldo has released multiple books of poetry. These connections further tie the band to the discussion of aesthetics and thereby the discussion of sublimity in a historic sense; according to noted music journalist Michael Azerrad, Sonic Youth “took [avant-garde] ideas and transplanted them to rock music. Few American bands were asking to be taken seriously as art, but Sonic Youth did” (232). Thirdly, the entity of Sonic Youth essentially has become a historical document, releasing albums consistently from 1982 to the present (16 proper studio albums in total). Lastly, I chose Sonic Youth because they, like their heroes The Beatles, transform and mutate with each album—even occasionally dabbling in “noise” compositions that challenge the idea of what music can be. Azerrad notes, “The members of Sonic Youth well remembered The Beatles and the Sixties, when there was a glorious interplay between the avant-garde, progressive politics, and popular culture, and they carried it on, perhaps more than any other band in the Eighties indie community” (233). Three Sonic Youth albums frame this discussion: 1988’s Daydream Nation, 2000’s NYC Ghosts & Flowers and 2009’s Rather Ripped. These three albums represent the band at three distinct different stages or epochs of their career: upstarts who stick around long enough to create a widely regarded iconic album, a “lowpoint” and an album created with the alleged masses in mind.

Kant argues that “a judgment of taste is not a cognitive judgment and so is not a logical judgment but an aesthetic one, by which we mean a judgment whose determining basis cannot be other than subjective” (233). If Sonic Youth or any other band cannot be objectively discussed based on their aesthetic merit, then their place in history must be as important as their artistic output. Given the fact they consciously melded the art world to their music and then outlived every one of their contemporaries—The Minutemen, The Talking Heads, Beat Happening, Mission of Burma, Fugazi—their career, should be considered as sublime as any music critic might consider his or her canonically favorite album. Then, if they are a historical document, each of their actual artifacts must be considered as a sublime entity as well. Azerrad discusses those albums, writing that Sonic Youth “made records that were not only artistically respected but popular; they helpfully provided at least the illusion that rock still had some fresh tricks up its sleeve. Sonic Youth was more an inspiration than an influence, which may be why, despite their renown, so few of the bands who have cited them as mentors and heroes have directly copied their sound” (Azerrad 233). Even the language Azerrad employs, calling Sonic Youth an inspiration and an influence, treats them as a document worthy of study both in his ideas and word-usage.

Sonic Youth’s earliest records earned them the genre placement of “no wave,” a response to punk music and a lo-fidelity cousin to hardcore music. Their early work sounded muddy, as though the band was trapped in the sewers of the city from which they originated, New York. The band buried albums such as 1983’s Confusion is Sex in distortion, anger and deep, dank bass lines. Each subsequent album, from 1985’s Bad Moon Rising to 1987’s Sister exhibited a band not only mutating, but also criticizing its society, culture and government. 1988’s Daydream Nation, however, marked the band’s widely regarded entrance into rock music’s canon. Noted music Web site Pitchfork.com argues “this record is one of a handful that helped shape the notion of what American indie rock can potentially mean,” before giving the album a rare perfect 10.0 score (Abebe).[1] In as prescient a move conceivable, the band opened the album with a song called “Teen Age Riot,” foreshadowing the slacker rock to come from college rock bands such as Pavement, Sebadoh and Guided By Voices. As Abebe continues in his review of the album, arguing there was plenty of underground music before this release, “the notion that all those Reagan-era discontents might be in the same boat—a new Alternative Nation just beginning to converge—hadn't yet been fully articulated” (Abebe). Even the title of the album, Daydream Nation foreshadowed the slacker personae of Generation X. The band, through Daydream Nation, helped define a generation of music and listeners.

Sonic Youth soon became cultural icons, even landing a semi-hit song with “Bull in the Heather” off 1994’s Experimental Jet Set, Trash and No Star and landing themselves in the Grunge canon despite the fact they didn’t sound anything like the Seattle bands. Looking back the album himself, Moore told Spin magazine that the album was so crude he had to go back and learn how to play the album in its entirety for a tour:

Especially “Rain King,” which I had to decode—like, “What the fuck tuning was that and where were my fingers on the guitar?” It sounded like I was playing rotten guitar strings on a piece of wood. And then it would break into this kind of hard-rock riff. But it was just so spastic all through the song. And “The Sprawl” and “‘Cross the Breeze” were two songs that we hadn’t really played since those days. I had to really listen closely to them to figure out what the tunings were. It was just really weird, finding old notations in scrapbooks and on pieces of paper, like these ancient texts. It sounds great, but when you listen to just one element of it, like my guitar, it sounds like I don't know how to play, like I'm playing with gloves on. I would never accept a guitar take like that today. And it sounds crappy, too, the way it’s recorded (Azerrad).

The artists themselves did not know how they made a lot of music, similar to Jacques Derrida’s notion of “author,” where some force overtakes his hand and pours ideas through him (Derrida).

Then, however, they made the radical decision to add experimental guitarist Jim O’Rourke, beginning with 2000’s NYC Ghosts & Flowers. This album, unlike Daydream Nation, earned the band a 0.0 from the Pitchfork.com staff, which is equally as rare as the previous 10.0. They argue:

These 40+ year olds continue to operate under the perception that they matter. However, one of the prerequisites for being “experimental” or “underground” is that, down the road, somebody has to be influenced by the work and appropriate elements into the common collective. The minimal noodling on NYC Ghosts & Flowers merely retreads the rancid corpses of beat poetry and avant-garde noise. (DiCrescenzo)

So, either Sonic Youth hit rock bottom, or this reviewer wanted some infamy. It’s impossible to empirically decide whether or not NYC Ghosts & Flowers was as bad as alleged, but the next two Sonic Youth albums, Murray Street and Sonic Nurse received 9.0 and 8.5 from the site respectively. Apparently those 40+ year olds did still matter to the site; if NYC Ghosts & Flowers did represent a fall from grace, there’s rhetorical precedence for the ugly being considered sublime (Lyotard).

Yet, that review, written in 2000, couldn’t anticipate Sonic Youth’s next move: actually making an easy to listen to and catchy pop record, their incredibly straight-forward Rather Ripped. According to Moore, “That record was made as a record of really concise songwriting for the sake of giving Geffen Records a record they could possibly work with to get to radio and maybe license to TV or movies. They’re always looking for revenue now, and we were like, ‘OK. Here’s a record of totally focused, Sonic rock and roll pop songs. Run with it.’ Of course, it was dead in the water the day after it came out as far as they were concerned” (Griffey 23). The album contains catchy choruses that stick with listeners better than some of their more menacing or ethereal earlier material. It went a long way to prove that the band had grown capable of making any kind of record they wanted.

If Longinus and the other critics mentioned above were to exam the music of Sonic Youth, they could easily make a case for the sublimity of their music, but only if they took into account the morphology of rock music, and music in general. They would have to follow music from Beethoven, Mozart and Bach to Bartok and Glass to The Beatles and Pink Floyd to the Velvet Underground and Wire. They would find a band that:

· Exhibits extreme confidence in speaking literally through powerful singing voices and metaphorically through their instruments.

· Pours strong and inspired emotion into their songs.

· Employs metaphorical language to critique society.

· Uses the noble diction of rock music and

· Uses the dignified word arrangement of poetry and elevated song structure.

As exhibited, any critic can easily take the above definitions of sublimity and plug any one Sonic Youth song or album into a particular definition to prove that at least some of their songs—and probably a few albums—have reached the level of the sublime as defined by the everyone from the ancients to the postmodernists. Or should I say the level of the sublime as deemed by music critics and certain types of music fans. A delineation must be made for contemporary society in which people are so bombarded by images in popular culture that it would be impossible to attain Kant’s ideal of beauty. The global culture is too diverse to truly claim that something sublime needs to be appreciated by all. Sonic Youth’s music typically cannot be understood by lay listeners who have no background in music history and that of the avant-garde. There is an aesthetic disconnect in taste between people who immerse themselves within subculture and those whose taste remains cultivated by popular culture. The idea of historical sublimity reduces the amount of personal subjectivity inherent within taste—thereby giving some concrete evidence for what someone can dub “sublime.”

The brief history of the band above touches on my three additions to sublimity theory, but after discussing the band in the context of the sublime debates, I will further cement the band within the context of my ideas. First, the band’s historical import must finalized. Azzerad credits the band’s successes and longevity to the fact they never got famous enough to be taken down by the traps (drugs, debt, etc.) that plague other bands. Additionally, because they pre-dated Grunge music and were so cool looking, they “became more famous for being influential than for their music” (Azerrad 273). Kim Gordon herself argues, “We were influential in showing people you can make any kind of music you want” (Azerrad 273). Throughout the band’s career, they’ve done just that. They only made a “pop” record 15 albums in to their career. They created a concept album about science fiction writer Philip K. Dick (Sister) and use real life events and people to build songs around—their newest album, The Eternal features songs about Beat Generation writer Gregory Corso and French painter Yves Klein. In addition to becoming cultural eulogists and documenters, the band also engages in a fair amount of cultural criticism. The 1992 song “Swimsuit Issue” tackles sexual harassment with Kim Gordon screaming, “I'm just here for dictation / I don't wanna be a sensation Bein' on 60 Minutes / was it worth your fifteen minutes? Don't touch my breast / I'm just working at my desk / Don't put me to the test / I'm just doing my best” before blasting, “I ain’t giving you head.” 1990’s “Kool Thing” featured the band working with rap legend Chuck D on another feminist song. The band, however, are not only cultural commentators. They helped keep CBGB’s alive after punk waned, they stood out in a hardcore crowd that prized dirt over cool and convinced David Geffen to sign Nirvana. In other words, Sonic Youth were a lightning rod in both popular music and the underground.

The band has also decidedly changed and grown over the years. They started out playing extremely primitive, raw music that got them lumped into the “Pigfuck” genre with Big Black and Butthole Surfers, christened by New Yorker critic Robert Christgau (Azerrad 255). The band’s early-middle period found the band digging into their jam band roots. They had previously been afraid of diving into their 1960s influences because, “You didn’t want to be associated with the excesses of hippie music or any of the spiritual yearning side of it,” according to Ranaldo (Azerrad 238). Freed from the dogmatic punk world to some extent as indie rock and college rock grew with the band, Sonic Youth took their influences a step further starting with the aforementioned NYC Ghosts & Flowers which found the band starting to enter the ethereal noise realm perfected on their next two albums, thereby fulfilling the promise Branca saw when he initially signed the band in the early 1980s. Finally, more than 20 years into the band’s career, they made an entirely pop record with 2006’s Rather Ripped, another major evolution for the band.

Lastly, as long as they have played instruments, Sonic Youth has always challenged contemporary notions of music, including the times Thurston Moore has played his guitar with a power drill. They started by deconstructing rock music to its core with minimalist hardcore and noise. They then added layer upon layer until they entered into the realm of contemporary composition with their SYR noise composition pieces.[2] Finally, they made their version of a pop record, which didn’t sell anything, but did land the band a gig on the popular TV show Gilmore Girls. Their songs have rarely been easy to listen to, by design. Their goals are typically loftier than any contemporary pop musician trying to make money. Sonic Youth are part of the avant-garde, even when they write a pop album. They, incidentally, are not done making music.

Sonic Youth is an ideal test subject for a theory positing that sublimity is not simply an archaic methodology that reinforces canonization and archaic notions of taste and beauty. An artist or group of artists who quite literally change the cultural world should be considered sublime as artifacts unto themselves. By considering historicism, mutability and levels of cultural and artistic questioning in addition to, or even separated from, aesthetic merit, a fuller, more complete definition of the sublime will emerge.

Works Cited

Abebe, Nitsuh. “Daydream Nation.” Pitchfork. Pitchfork. 13 June 2007. 12 December 2009.

Azerrad, Michael. Our Band Could Be Your Life: Scenes from the American Indie Underground

1981-1991. New York: Little Brown and Co., 2001. Print.

---. “The Spin Interview: Thurston Moore.” Spin. Spin. 23 August 2007. 12 December 2009.

Campbell, George. “The Philosophy of Rhetoric.” The Rhetorical Tradition. Ed. Patricia Bizzell

and Bruce Herzberg. Boston: Bedford/St. Martin’s, 2001. 902-946. Print.

Derrida, Jacques, perf. Derrida. Zeitgeist, 2004. Film.

DiCrescenzo, Brent. “NYC Ghosts & Flowers.” Pitchfork. Pitchfork. 30 April 2000. 12

December 2009.

Forsey, Jane. “Is a Theory of the Sublime Possible?” The Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism

65:4 (2007): 381-389. Print.

Griffey, Jeremiah. “Feedback Freaks.” Geek. July 2009: 22-23. Print.

Hume, David. “Of the Standard of Taste.” The Rhetorical Tradition. Ed. Patricia Bizzell and

Bruce Herzberg. Boston: Bedford/St. Martin’s, 2001. 830-840. Print.

Kant, Immanuel. Critique of Judgment, trans. J.H. Bernard. New York: Hafner Publishing Co.,

1972. Print.

Longinus. “On the Sublime.” The Rhetorical Tradition. Ed. Patricia Bizzell and Bruce Herzberg.

Boston: Bedford/St. Martin’s, 2001. 346-358. Print.

Lyotard, Jean-Francois. “The Sublime and the Avant-Garde.” The Continental Aesthetics

Reader. Ed. Clive Cazeaux. London: Routledge, 2000. 453-464. Print.

Sonic Youth. Confusion is Sex. Neutral, 1983. CD.

---. Bad Moon Rising. Homestead, 1985. CD.

---. Sister. SST Records, 1987. CD.

---. Daydream Nation. Enigma Records, 1988. CD.

---. Experimental Jet Set, Trash and No Star. DGC, 1994. CD.

---. NYC Ghosts & Flowers. Geffen, 2000. CD.

---. Murray Street. Geffen, 2002. CD.

---. Sonic Nurse. Geffen, 2004. CD.

---. Rather Ripped. Geffen, 2006. CD.

---. The Eternal. Matador, 2009. CD.

Sircello, Guy. “How is a Theory of the Sublime Possible?” The Journal of Aesthetics and Art

Criticism 51:4 (1993): 541-550.

---

[1] I’ve elected to use Pitchfork.com as a general representation of public perception, as well as a critical barometer both because of the Web site’s popularity with the kinds of music listeners who would be inclined to consider Sonic Youth’s music as aesthetically and/or historically sublime.

[2] The band began releasing SYR releases, which compiled the band’s more complex noise composition pieces in the late 1990s.

Sonic Youth being sublimey

Foucault brawls with Chomsky. You decide who wins.

Foucault presentation thoughts...

I primarily focused on Foucault and postmodernism for my portion
of the presentation, I thought the class could discuss:

Foucault's hypothesis that: "...in every society the production of discourse
is at once controlled, selected, organized, and redistributed by a
certain number of procedures whose role is to ward off its powers and
dangers, to gain mastery over its chance events, to evade its
ponderous, formidable materiality." (and in particular his statements
that sexuality and politics are the primary areas in which discourse
is controlled) (1461)

Principles of exclusion:
Prohibition (forbidden speech)
Division and Rejection (madness)
Opposition Between True and False (Will to truth)

His connection to earlier texts:

"Since the Greeks 'true' discourse is no longer the discourse that
answers to the demands of desire, or the discourse which exercises
power, what is at stake in the will to truth, in the will to utter
this 'true' discourse, if not desire and power? 'True' discourse,
freed from desire and power by the necessity of its form, cannot
recognize the will to truth which pervades it; and the will to truth,
having imposed itself on us for a very long time, is such that the
truth it wants cannot fail to mask it."

Additionally, I found a Derrida quote where he talks about the
importance of the author to the text, which echoes Foucault's statements
on page 1465.

More Grammar....

It's interesting to see in Connor's article more of what we've been
talking about regarding issues of grammar.

I wish I could go back in time to pinpoint at what moments and with what
teachers I learned how to write, how to spell, how to write coherently
and how to write with ideas. I know that I had a decent education and
had different kinds of English teachers working on different things each
year, grammar and idea-wise. But I have trouble pinpointing which helped.

I think, as we talked about last class, it's truly reading that helps
you get a better understanding of grammar that helps a writer develop
their own Grammar for writing. I know in my writing I use commas in
certain ways that professors have circled for being "incorrect." And, as
Maggie said above, should that impact the quality of the paper?

I think, ultimately, a student who has a propensity toward being a good
writer--due to whatever teachers have done to help them in the
past--will develop their own Grammar with which to write, piecing their
Grammar together from all of their experiences.

I, for one, like knowing the rules so that I can break them. Sometimes
fragments are simply necessary.

Mike Rose rules....

I want to smack at least half of the 130 teachers at the high school I
work at in the face with this essay.

Given education's movement away from skilled employment education (in NY
it was called BOCES--I have no idea what trade education at the high
school level was called in California) I simply don't understand how
they can fail half of their students in every class. The current
education system is doing a number of things to children who simply will
never go to college who do not want to.

I know we started having this discussion the other day, but I think it's
worth discussing further. I think it's unfair that our school are
raising legions of students who are woefully unprepared for life because
we're pushing them all toward college. Some students aren't good at
school, but might be good at other skilled professions. That's where the
true failure in Education exists today, I feel, that we don't give
enough realistic job training in schools. Sure, some kids might be able
to change brakes, but can they weld? (etc.)

Additionally, I loved Grimke's letters for the same reason others above
stated. It's nice to read rhetoric of passion, rhetoric of the
oppressed, rather than rhetoric of intellectual privilege.

Relating Campbell to the Sublime...

I find it interesting that George asked us to relate the readings
specifically to our discussion we’re formulating for our paper, as I
specifically engineered my own reading this week to see what would help
me in my paper on Sonic Youth and a contemporary understanding of “The
Sublime.”

In Campbell’s “The Philosophy of Rhetoric,” he quite melodramatically
describes the sublime as “great and noble images” that “distend the
imagination with some vast conception and quite ravish the soul.” I
don’t know if it’s my postmodern upbringing, but I’m too cynical to
believe that there is any form or art (or oratory—as he’s discussing
here) in existence that can ravish my soul. Instead, contemporary art,
in order for it to be considered “sublime” in my eyes must raise
challenge flags to accepted truths about art. The questions an artist
raises through their art in turn “ravish” my soul, making me contemplate
accepted ideas, “truths” and discourse. This does, in Campbell’s terms,
rouse passion in a way—but not through aesthetic beauty. (Question: Is
there a way in which contemporary artists achieve the sublime in the
traditional sense today? Did past artists?)

Blair, in “Lectures on Rhetoric and Belles Lettres,” discusses taste in
a manner that made me contemplate my own discussions with friends. In my
spare time I’m a music critic, and since most of my friends know this
about me, they constantly try to engage me in discussions about music.
This puts me in an incredibly awkward position, because they tell me
about bands they like, (typically popular fare, such as Linkin Park, The
Killers and American Idol winners), and I cannot engage them in the kind
of dialogue they want. They’ve never heard of the bands I appreciate and
study, nor are they familiar with the history of pop music. For them,
music is a casual pastime, and for me it’s more of a form of study.
Blair, in Lecture II, gives me a little bit more license to not view
myself as simply an elitist bastard who can’t speak with the common
people about music. He helped me realize that there are levels of taste
that can be cultivated over time.

I just wish other people could see that and not just think I’m a music
snob. I’m not. I just know more of the history of musical movements,
understand contexts and like better music than they do.

Just kidding about that last part. Or am I?

Lost...

I thought it'd be fun to try to relate Locke's essay to the character
named after him on "Lost," but I had a ridiculous day at work, which
ended with another teacher's student telling me to "Shut the fuck up"
because I asked him to take out his ear phones.

Such a special child.

However, I was intrigued by Locke's assertions RE: words, meanings,
signification, etc. and how they relate to Postmodern theories of
language. However, he discusses the "essence" of a thing, which points
to Plato's idea of Truth, which in turn the postmodernists tend to
quash. However, the roots have been planted (probably in earlier
readings, but this is the first reading that stood out to me.

I'd like to discuss in class is final paragraph, in which he discusses
the (ab)use of figurative language and allusions in Rhetoric, arguing
that they exist for "pleasure and delight" but not rhetorical purposes.
I tend to disagree...but then again, I'm a lit major.

And finally, I'd like to discuss this quote... "Eloquence, like the fair
sex, has too prevailing beauties in it to suffer itself ever to be
spoken against. And it is in vain to find fault with those arts of
deceiving, wherein men find pleasure to be deceived."

GGGGG Grammar

Some things I thought while reading the Grammar article by Hartwell:

1.) People have been arguing that "they're not teaching grammar in
schools!" since the 1950s? Someone needs to tell that to my 10th grade
English teacher, Ms. Chassin. We even diagrammed sentences, for God's sake.

2.) There seems to be an enormous white elephant in the room throughout
Hartwell's article (and Marijel alluded to this as well...). It seems to
me that the article ignores the fact of how schools have evolved (or
devolved) into developing every single student for "college readiness"
vs. career readiness. Of course the literacy levels and grammar levels
will go down, as more and more students are forced into molds for which
they may never fit and/or qualify.

3.) Additionally, I think it's worth noting that Microsoft Word (and
other typing programs) all underline any potential mistakes students
make so that they immediately question themselves and their writing.
That sort of forced metacognition might be more helpful than any
lectures I can give on grammar. Damn it.

4.) Sentence fragments are fragments only if you aren't "hyperliterate"
enough to recognize it as a purposeful fragment.

5.) I just wish my students would read their papers out loud--and I
think that's part of Hartwell's point. We recognize proper grammar in
speech, largely, as Hartwell asserts. It makes me wonder how much my
English learner students actually learn just through talking to me vs.
what I try to teach them.

On the Sublime and Sonic Youth

Longinus, in his “On the Sublime,” sets up basic criteria for examining the sublimity of ancient Greek writings. His criteria includes: confidence in speaking (which is presumed), strong and inspired emotion, certain kinds of figures (which I interpret to mean metaphors), noble diction and, finally, dignified and elevated word arrangement (Longinus, 350). Applied to contemporary studies of the aesthetic merit of popular music, the majority of these criteria hold true. However, this criterion lacks three important notions regarding the sublimity of contemporary music. The first posits that music, as well as any notable artistic pieces, cannot reach the level of the sublime without achieving some form of historical notoriety or import through some form of political motivations behind the music (the music, after all, must be remembered). These political motivations do not need to enter into the governmental realm; social or cultural politics may prove to be more important to the discussion of sublimity in music. Secondly, a musical artist must show some form of mutability or growth from album to album in order to qualify for the contemporary sublime. Lastly, and most importantly, the music considered must challenge either existing notions of what music “is” or challenge inexperienced ears and take them to another realm of understanding of what music can be. As such, this is not a study of one-hit wonders or a single album. It is a discussion of the sustainability of artistry over time. That is not to say that a one-hit wonder or a hipster delight cannot reach sublimity for a single document. That is simply not the ideal, and thereby not wholly sublime.
For this study, I chose the band Sonic Youth to serve as the vanguard of music for a number of reasons. The first emerged as I thought about what band had the most difficult music to access in contrast with their popularity. (In fact, when I first attempted to listen to them, I did not have the musical grammar yet established to understand what they were doing. Their music alienated me because of this.) The second reason I chose Sonic Youth is because of their intimate ties to the visual art world and composers such as Glenn Branca. Thirdly, Sonic Youth essentially has become a historical document, releasing albums consistently from 1982 to the present (16 proper studio albums in total). Lastly, I chose Sonic Youth because they, like their heroes The Beatles before them, transform and mutate with each album—even occasionally dabbling in “noise” compositions versus pop music. As the band does have 16 proper releases, most of them deserving of their own discussion, I’ve chosen to discuss three of the band’s landmark albums as evidence of their sublimity. These albums, "Daydream Nation,"(to be determined)and "Rather Ripped," each represent certain epochs within the Sonic Youth canon, as described not only by me, but by other rock music critics.
For evidence, I’ve chosen a number of texts to aide my discussion, including pieces on poetry by the likes of Matthew Arnold, pieces on the question of “What is Art?,” a historical documentation of Sonic Youth by noted music journalist Michael Azerrad and contemporary critical discussions of Sonic Youth’s music by online journalists. Through these, I hope to prove the following:
• Sonic Youth’s music is a form of art worthy of this discussion.
• Sonic Youth’s music can set out a template for the contemporary sublime vis a vis music.
• A good majority of Longinus’s basic structure for the sublime still holds true.

Annotated Bibliography

Arnold, Matthew. “The Study of Poetry.” Criticism: Major Statements. 4th ed. Ed. Charles
Kaplan and William Davis Anderson. Boston: Bedford/St. Martin’s, 2000. 333-353. Print. In this essay, Arnold writes a defense of poetry. It responds to previous works by Shelley and Sidney, and as such gives a closer to contemporary look at the import of poetry relevant to my discussion. Most important to my study is his argument that poetry has taken the place of religion in his society. I plan to use his argument to bolster my discussion of the sublimity of Sonic Youth’s music—in essence arguing that their music can function as a “religious” experience.
Azerrad, Michael. Our Band Could Be Your Life: Scenes from the American Indie Underground
1981-1991. New York: Little, Brown and Co., 2001. Print. This book tells the story of 13 bands from the 1980s, including Sonic Youth. The book details the band’s respective histories while tying them into cultural and artistic movements of the eras in which they first started making music. The author, Michael Azerrad, is a noted music journalist as well as a music critic. I chose this book because it not only discusses Sonic Youth, the band I’m writing about, but also because it discusses them critically. The book presents the band as an artifact, which can be proven as a sublime entity.
Longinus. “On the Sublime.” Criticism: Major Statements. 4th ed. Ed. Charles Kaplan and
William Davis Anderson. Boston: Bedford/St. Martin’s, 2000. 47-83. Print. In this writing, Longinus sets up criteria for what can be considered sublime. This will probably be the integral text to my discussion as I will use his criteria as a basis for my own discussion of the sublime.
Pitchfork. Ryan Schrieber, 1995. Web. 24 October 2009. This music Web site functions as a
tastemaker site for many contemporary music fans, otherwise known as hipsters. They update daily with highly academic and controversial album reviews and interviews. I plan to use the Web site and their opinions of Sonic Youth’s music to show what contemporary music critics think of their music and their place in history. Additionally, I plan on engaging in some form of dialogue with these critics.
Tolstoy, Leo. “What is art?” Criticism: Major Statements. 4th ed. Ed. Charles Kaplan and
William Davis Anderson. Boston: Bedford/St. Martin’s, 2000. 382-393. Print. In this article, Tolstoy firmly asserts that good art must be an instrument of progress and change. I’m using this text to help set up a criteria for which to judge the progressiveness and change agency presented to the world by Sonic Youth’s music. Further, I hope incorporate the ideas of progressiveness and change into my own definition of the Sublime, building on Longinus’s definition.

on the sublime

I'm considering writing my seminar paper on the contemporary Sublime, basing my assertions about the Sublime on Longinus's writings. A few days ago I posted some songs that I feel fit my contemporary notions of the Sublime.

Unfortunately, what I really wanted to post--a video by Sonic Youth--was blocked from embedding. To me, they embody the contemporary Sublime, which I plan on arguing encompasses the Longinus "rules," but also incorporate political implications as well as aesthetic.

Sublime: Arcade Fire

Sublime: Busdriver

Sublime: Mr. Lif

Sublime: Rage Against the Machine

The Contemporary Sublime

After reading Longinus, I thought it'd be fun to dig around two current
popular "arts" and decide whether or not they are sublime, employing
Longinus' criteria as much as possible:

1.) The power to conceive great thoughts
2.) Strong and inspired emotion
3.) Figures of thought and figures of speech
4.) Noble diction (metaphorical and artificial language)
5.) Dignified and elevated word arrangement

I tried to pick one major “artistic” statement in music and another in
film that has sold well, as Longinus discusses that the sublime should
resonate cross-culturally among all people.

Pop Music: Paramore

Fact:
Their album, Brand New Eyes debuted at #2 on the Billboard charts this
week, one notch below Barbara Streisand, who I couldn’t bring myself to
discuss.

On with the analysis:
1.) Paramore does not seem to have the power to conceive great thoughts,
as they too strongly mimic their pop punk predecessors. There is nothing
original about their music, from the instrumentation on down to their
lyrics.
2.) Strong and inspired emotion: as the band is frequently labeled
"emo," I’ll have to give this one a thumbs up.
3.) Is there thought in these lyrics:

“We still live in the same town, well, don't we?
But I don't see you around anymore.
I go to all the same places, not even a trace of you...
Your days are numbered at 24.
And I'm getting bored waiting round for you,
We're not getting any younger, and I
Won't look back 'cause there's no use
It's time to move forward!”

I think not.
4.) As for noble uses of diction:

“Can't make my own decisions or make any with precision
Well maybe you should tie me up so I don't go where you don't want me
You say that I been changing, that I'm not just simply aging
Yeah how could that be logical?
Just keep on cramming ideas down my throat
Oh oh oh ohhhh”

The rhyme scheme here is rather silly and forced. Thumbs down.

5.) Do I really need to check out the “elevated word arrangement?” I’ll
return instead to the band’s simplistic chord progressions, drumming and
vocal stylings (all of which are ARRANGED) and simply say: it’s been
done before. So, thumbs up for imitation. (Not.)

VERDICT: 1/5 = NOT SUBLIME

Film:

Since I just saw Zombieland this weekend and it’s the number 1 movie in
the nation this week, I might as well analyze this one as well:

1.) Although this film lacks the social consciousness of George A.
Romero’s zombie films, it does achieve a high level of comedy and a
serviceably unique love story. It also continues pushing forward the
film’s genre, picking up where “Diary of the Dead” and “Shaun of the
Dead” leave off—thereby achieving more actuality in imitation than Paramore.
2.) Well, the woman next to me jumped three times. Additionally, the
film does a great job of creating fun, albeit unrealistic character
types who draw the viewer into their world. This creates a high level of
attachment, or emotion for each character.
3.) Figures of thought: eh. Not so much. Figures of speech: There are
more than a few catchy one-liners, typified by the main character’s list
of rules, such as “Double-tap” and “Don’t be a hero.”
4.) Noble Diction: Rated “R” for language.
5.) Any writing constructed to make people laugh in a world surrounded
by blood and death that succeeds in making people laugh has achieved
elevated word arrangement.

VERDICT: 4/5 = PRETTY DAMN SUBLIME

Aristotle...

Aristotle:

I found the Aristotle reading to be incredibly intriguing, if for the
simple fact that his arguments seemed so common-sensical, from his
separation of artistic proofs and nonartistic proofs to his
differentiation between political, forensic and ceremonial speech.
Aristotle, it turns out, seems to be the father, primarily, of forensic
rhetoric, which he employs here to explain rhetoric (much like how Plato
uses rhetoric to decry rhetoric.)

In particular, I enjoyed the following quote from page 181: "Rhetoric is
not bound up with a single definite class of subjects, but is as
universal as the dialectics. ...its function is not simply to succeed in
persuading, but rather to discover the means of coming as near such
success as the circumstances of each particular case allow." Here
Aristotle lays the groundwork for contemporary defense-attorneying (for
better or for worse.) Artful rhetoric, then, is not simply winning
through logic, it's winning through logic in the logic's context.

Lunsford and Ede:

I appreciated this article more than last week's from the same text, if
only because this text offered a self-reflective approach to Composition
theory. Coming from a high school system that breeds self-centered
teachers who have little desire to grow and develop--it's refreshing to
read an article by two people as they critique a previous article they
wrote. The critique possesses the eye of writers ten years in the
future, who now see what flaws existed in their original text.

On page 819, the two discuss the "place of struggle" within rhetorical
theory and how divergent voices and theories have place within
composition studies despite ivory tower voices. I have a hard time
agreeing with theorists who always talk complete deconstruction and
"building new ways of speaking." The idea of building from within seems
much more realistic.

Casablanca and Aristotle

In Casablanca, Rick employs an enthymeme based on premises from probability. He argues the logical stance that if the two lovers stay in Casablanca, nine out of ten times the two will end up in a concentration camp. While this could be an exaggeration of the danger, the two certainly exist in difficult times in the movie. additionally, Rick employs ethos, arguing that he, "has a job to do," as why he can't go with Elsy, and why she can't stay. Lastly, he employs pathos, reminding Elsy that they'll, "always have Paris," reminding her of their special times--which taken as a snapshot proves their love. But that love may have run its course due to circumstances out of their control. The use of these appeals all prove that Rick employed an artistic proof, under the realm of enthymeme, from the Aristotelian structure argued for in "Rhetoric."

Kanye vs. Chuck D

(Our fictitious discussion takes place in an abandoned warehouse in New York City, the site of a party for N.A.S.A.’s release party for The Spirit of Apollo, an album on which our participants in this rhetorical dialogue all play guest roles.)

Chuck D: Hey Kanye. Good to see you here, man.

Kanye West: Thanks D.

Chuck D: Call me Chuck. So, Kanye, what were you thinking the other night when you interrupted Taylor Swift’s acceptance speech at the Video Music Awards?

Kanye: I was being an activist standing up for what I believe.

Chuck D: And what is it precisely that you believe?

Kanye: I believe I am the best rapper in the world. I believe Beyonce’s video was the best video of the year, and possibly ever. I believe George Bush hates black people.

Chuck D: What is it about you, and your personae, that allows you to believe those three tenants?

Kanye: They are just true.

Chuck D: And it’s through your art form that you present your ideas, correct? What would you call your trade?

Kanye: Man, you know what my trade is.

Chuck D: I want to hear it from you. What is your trade?

Kanye: It offends me to have to say this.

Chuck D: I truly want to know, with no sense of barbarism or patronizing, what is your trade?

Kanye: Rapping. I’m an artist.

Chuck D: Is it the role of the artist to make art that challenges ideals?

Kanye: Yes.

Chuck D: Is it the role of the artists to make art that breeds new ideas, both politically and musically?

Kanye: Yes.

Chuck D: My group, Public Enemy, wrote divisive music that spoke to legions of people. We wrote classic songs like, “911 is Joke,” “Fight the Power” and “Power to the People.” Each one tackled different issue from police response time in black urban neighborhoods, deconstructing established beliefs about power and the system, and true democracy. What are your songs about?

Kanye: Terrorism, racism, civil war and religion.

Chuck D: Ah, you’re referring to the song “Jesus Walks,” then?

Kanye: Yes.

Chuck D: Is it not true that you quote the movie Happy Gilmore in that song? Is it also not true that you use the term “Niggaz” in that song? Is it also not true that you compare people’s love of God and their savior Jesus Christ to the way Kathy Lee Gifford and Regis Philbin need each other?

Kanye: Yes.

Chuck D: And you find no level of irony in the simplicity of your message?

Kanye: That’s some complex shit.

Chuck D: I see. Let’s go back to your three beliefs. On the first you claimed to be the best rapper in the world.

Kanye: Yes.

Chuck D: What do you believe is the purpose of rap?

Kanye: To entertain.

Chuck D: But was that always the case? When rap first started on the streets, it developed as a strong sense of community, and out of the strong oral history of blacks in America. We were like town criers, with style.

Kanye: Yeah, but that changed.

Chuck D: And what was the catalyst for that change?

Kanye: Money.

Chuck D: Precisely. Do you rap about money?

Kanye: Yes.

Chuck D: Do you rap about money in a Marxist sense?

Kanye: No. I rap about gold diggers. I rap about drug dealing. I rap about cool cities to live in.

Chuck D: Do you put any political sentiments in your music?

Kanye: No. That shit doesn’t sell.

Chuck D: So you care more about money than the politics you discuss publicly.

Kanye: I suppose so.

Chuck D: Let’s go to your second belief. Do you truly believe Beyonce’s video was better than Taylor Swift’s?

Kanye: Hell yes.

Chuck D: Why?

Kanye: Because Taylor Swift is white. That voting was straight-up racist.

Chuck D: Do you have any evidence of this? You may be right, but does it make any sense? Was it your place to interrupt this award show?

Kanye: No.

Chuck D: Don’t you think your energies would have been better spent discussing Afghanistan, Iraq, Obama, healthcare reform, poverty, structures of power, etc.? Rather, of course than interrupting an awards show.

Kanye: Beyonce should have won.

Chuck D: Does that matter? Is there any context in which Beyonce or Taylor Swift truly matter to the world dialectic?

Kanye: The what?

Chuck D: The world dialectic. The discussions that make and shape our world.

Kanye: No one has invited me to these discussions because they fear me. They fear what I may say.

Chuck D: Fair enough. Let’s move on to your statement about George W. Bush during a telethon supporting victims of Hurricane Katrina. You said, “George Bush doesn’t care about black people.”

Kanye: I did!

Chuck D: What was your goal?

Kanye: My goal was to make it known that George Bush doesn’t care about black people.

Chuck D: Yet you barely stood by that assertion once the media storm kicked in. Why?

Kanye: I don’t know. People were yelling at me.

Chuck D: I know why. That same money you talked about earlier—or the soon to be lack thereof. You engaged in a classic backtrack, not unlike The Dixie Chicks. If you are an important voice in a community, in our community, you must engage in personal responsibility. If you say something controversial, back it up. If you want to affect change, stand by your statements.

Kanye: But George Bush doesn’t care about black people. I thought everyone knew that.

Chuck D: Lots of presidents haven’t cared about black people. When you call them out, you stand by it. Elvis still don’t mean shit to me, and I stand by that. Will you stand by your actions, or will you continue to pop off and retract?

Kanye: I gotta go.

That Gorgias Helen....

I have to say I appreciated reading both Poulakos's and Biesecker's
articles RE: The Encomium of Helen. Not being an antiquity scholar, I
found little to disagree with in either. The democratic context of built
into Biesecker's argument seemed valid, as did Poulakos's comparison
between Helen and Rhetoric.

They've, to some extent, convinced me.

However, I had a lot of trouble with Rhodes's "Radical Feminism, Writing
and Critical Agency," for the same reason other posters have. It's
incredibly vague about its actual goals, and I think incorrect about its
assertions that academia fosters a masculine way of writing. If
anything, schools are constantly charged with accessing the male mind
and male creativity because males tend (and I mean tend) to be more
difficult to work with in a "traditional" classroom setting. And, if
she's talking purely composition studies, well then, too: A language
system exists. Theoriticians work within said system. They break down
said system occasionally, yet each new appearance within the system
becomes part of the system.

Particularly regarding the "Women's Ways" of writing, I think it's as
damaging to assert that there is a "women's way" to write and a "man's
way" to write. It's almost laughably absurd not to recognize that
multiple intelligences lead to multiple ways of writing. If Rhodes can
find a way to enter compositional rhetorical arguments through
deconstruction, re-education or other untraveled roads, then I'll get
excited. For now, her call to arms seemed rather useless in terms of
practicality.

Gorgias vs. Plato

The rhetorical argument between Gorgias and Plato draws strong parallels
between the disagreements of whether or not a god (or gods) exists.
Gorgias, with his Sophist idea that there is no extravagant truth to be
attained, or that if there is—humans do not possess the sensory skill to
reach or achieve this level of absolute truth—might be best represented
as an agnostic. Plato, on the other hand, symbolizes a deeply religious
man with deep-seated aspirations of an afterlife, in my metaphor.

Gorgias, and by extension the Sophists, certainly possess more of a
realist perspective on human life. What we know is what we sense. The
senses are imperfect. Therefore, what we know is imperfect. However,
certain people can be taught to grow, through rhetoric, philosophy and
language to learn through argument and discourse. There’s not some
refined enlightenment in their path—simply growth in knowledge and
persuasion. In “Encomium of Helen,” he reasons out four possible excuses
for the beguiled Helen—almost like a President trying to lay out
possible solutions that will please everyone to a national health care
problem. (That’s not a political statement—it was just an easy, relevant
comparison…). The import of Gorgias’ diplomacy is that through this
writing he proves his theory that argument allows people to see the
various sides of an issue without necessarily placing judgment on any of
the sides.

Plato, on the other hand, is an idealist who feels that through rhetoric
and discussion people can attain some form of Nirvana (or heaven)—his
truth. His dialogue between Socrates and everyone else in “Gorgias”
certainly rings with the heir of superiority and enlightenment of
someone who “knows.” It’s almost as though he’s so desperate to prove
that there’s something more in life than just living that he’s resorted
to somewhat ruthless measures. Earlier today I watched Barack Obama on
“60 Minutes” to see the context of his assertion that, “that the
loudest, shrillest voices get the most attention,” and I couldn’t help
but draw more parallels to Plato here. Throughout recorded human
history, Plato’s writings were the loudest and shrillest philosophical
and rhetorical documents. Yet, his argument that philosophers can attain
absolute truth through thought, discussion and argument seems more to
have bred the divisiveness of contemporary “I’m right, you’re wrong”
thought (Christian vs. Muslim, Liberal vs. Conservative, even white vs.
black). This kind of thinking bred the “I, I, I” American way of life
(for one) and causes many conflicts throughout the world.

It’s apparent I decided to side with Gorgias, for the simple reason that
each individual has a different path to growth. If discussion and
argument can lead a person to see all sides of an issue, and not simply
some albatross of a TRUE answer, that ability, to me, is more of a
“truth” than any one truth can ever be.