REVIEWS : NON-FICTION
Its author, Matt Diehl, has a background in freelance journalism. And it shows, big time. Other than the introduction and the last chapter, it’s possible to read the whole book out of sequence, and it still makes sense. It’s less an organized quest for the “soul of punk” (Diehl’s phrase, not mine) than a kind of guided package tour of modern-day punk culture, in the context of the hyper-wired, post-MTV global marketplace. So each chapter reads more like an extended magazine article, dealing with a specific theme related to punk, with an obvious figurehead to illustrate that particular subject area. For example, when Diehl analyzes gender, sexuality, and desire, he focuses on the “alt porn” website Suicide Girls, with its pierced and hair-dyed models paying lip service to feminism, through an in-house brand of sexual empowerment. Similarly, the Vans Warped Tour and Epitaph Records represent differing business models in the evolving nature of punk commerce, while the Distillers (and front-woman Brody Dalle in particular) exemplify the highs and pitfalls of reaching celebrity status.
This approach works fine, if you’re busy, or you’re reading the book in bite-sized chunks, like I did. But taken as a whole, it can be kinda repetitive, especially when Diehl chooses to repeat key facts, or reintroduce a person who was mentioned in an earlier section. It doesn’t help that Diehl’s writing lacks clever wordplay or memorable phrasing (especially in comparison to Andy Greenwald, who penned Nothing Feels Good, a similarly-themed book about the contemporary emo scene).
Now, I can overlook a writing style that didn’t entertain me. It’s a matter of personal taste, really – it might not appeal to my own preferences, but others may like it, just the way it is. Diehl’s prose is definitely casual and straightforward enough to get his points across, while remaining authoritative enough to read like a legitimate history. There’s a sufficient mix of personal side comments, storytelling, and intellectual observations to make My So-Called Punk a worthwhile read.
My real issue with the book has to do with Diehl’s treatment of the subject matter. As a descriptive term, “punk” commonly refers to one the following things:
Now, Diehl would like to believe that punk is all of the above; he clearly embraces the laissez-faire permissiveness of liberal democracy. So he neatly lumps any self-identified misfit, outcast, or iconoclast under the banner. In fact, the book ends with the words, “Meet the new punk. Chances are it looks a lot like… you.”
As a result of this feel-good inclusiveness, Diehl’s overview of what it means to be punk circa 2007 includes a number of contradictory examples, all unified by their connection with the p-word. We meet emo kids who gush about Fall Out Boy on their MySpace profiles, defying the boundaries of small-town geography. We encounter old hands and three-chord workhorses like the Bouncing Souls and Pennywise, who emerged as promising Next Big Things, in the wake of Dookie’s mid-90s success, now viewed as potential also-rans in a scene that’s more competitive and market-like than ever before. And of course, there’s Green Day themselves, who picked up a Grammy for a quasi-rock opera that criticized the “redneck agenda” and the “subliminal mindfuck America”. But then Diehl throws readers a curveball, by suggesting that perhaps it’s the more experimental, poly-ethnic groups like Bloc Party and TV on the Radio who may be the most genuinely punk of all. Of course, since it’s ALL punk to him, and punk = freedom and diversity, he doesn’t feel the need to account for the differences between these various factions.
By refusing to commit to a standard definition, Diehl forces the readers to figure out which aspect of punk he’s referring to, at a given moment. This works fine if you’re somebody who has first-hand involvement with punk (or at least an active, long-standing fascination with it). However, for the book’s implied target audience – the kids weaned on Blink-182, and Jackass, and punk idols who date billionaire heiresses – the nuances of Diehl’s commentary may not be as immediately obvious.
Of course, the underlying message is that punk is something worth revitalizing, in the first place. But without a substantial way to qualify punk, the book fails as a call to arms. Indeed, cynics would argue that punk is just a kind of “false consciousness” – a loud, noisy pseudo-movement that inadvertently functions like a minor league for the corporate behemoths that it supposedly opposes. The only real way to bring about lasting change would be to just disregard the mainstream altogether, leaving one free to set his/her own cultural terms – less Michael Moore agit-prop, more Steve Jobs visionary pragmatism. But then others (like me) would say that’s exactly what makes something punk, to begin with.
NEVER MIND THE DEFINITIONS... HERE'S MY SO-CALLED PUNK
Matt Diehl curates a fascinating guided tour of Punk Rock Inc. circa 2007 but falls short of any clear insights about the contested P–word.
I was 15 years old, when I first heard “Basket Case” – the carrier single from Green Day’s breakthrough album, Dookie – blaring from the car radio in antiseptic Singapore. Since then, I’ve been more or less engaged with punk rock in varying degrees – as a listener, a gig organizer, a zinester, and a natural smart-ass with an opinion about everything. And like so many others with a few notches in our spiked belts, I’m a little ambivalent towards many things associated with punk, circa 2011. Granted, certain possibilities excite me – for example, the use of social networking tools like Facebook to build transnational punk solidarity. Others leave me somewhat disturbed (like the increasingly casual acceptance of a sexist ‘bros-before-hos’ mentality within ‘the scene’). Most of it just bores me to tears – the histrionic pretty-boy singers, the recycled melodies, and humorless posturing. So I was understandably anxious, when I saw a new book titled My So-Called Punk, promising a concise study of the factors explaining How Neo-Punk Stage-Dived into the Mainstream (as per its subtitle).Its author, Matt Diehl, has a background in freelance journalism. And it shows, big time. Other than the introduction and the last chapter, it’s possible to read the whole book out of sequence, and it still makes sense. It’s less an organized quest for the “soul of punk” (Diehl’s phrase, not mine) than a kind of guided package tour of modern-day punk culture, in the context of the hyper-wired, post-MTV global marketplace. So each chapter reads more like an extended magazine article, dealing with a specific theme related to punk, with an obvious figurehead to illustrate that particular subject area. For example, when Diehl analyzes gender, sexuality, and desire, he focuses on the “alt porn” website Suicide Girls, with its pierced and hair-dyed models paying lip service to feminism, through an in-house brand of sexual empowerment. Similarly, the Vans Warped Tour and Epitaph Records represent differing business models in the evolving nature of punk commerce, while the Distillers (and front-woman Brody Dalle in particular) exemplify the highs and pitfalls of reaching celebrity status.
This approach works fine, if you’re busy, or you’re reading the book in bite-sized chunks, like I did. But taken as a whole, it can be kinda repetitive, especially when Diehl chooses to repeat key facts, or reintroduce a person who was mentioned in an earlier section. It doesn’t help that Diehl’s writing lacks clever wordplay or memorable phrasing (especially in comparison to Andy Greenwald, who penned Nothing Feels Good, a similarly-themed book about the contemporary emo scene).
Now, I can overlook a writing style that didn’t entertain me. It’s a matter of personal taste, really – it might not appeal to my own preferences, but others may like it, just the way it is. Diehl’s prose is definitely casual and straightforward enough to get his points across, while remaining authoritative enough to read like a legitimate history. There’s a sufficient mix of personal side comments, storytelling, and intellectual observations to make My So-Called Punk a worthwhile read.
My real issue with the book has to do with Diehl’s treatment of the subject matter. As a descriptive term, “punk” commonly refers to one the following things:
(a) A broad mode of cultural production, involving do-it-yourself sensibilities and the use of independent media;
(b) Identification with a particular subculture or community, with aesthetics opposed to bourgeois propriety and/or the (generalized) Powers That Be, or;
(c) Some combination of both.
Now, Diehl would like to believe that punk is all of the above; he clearly embraces the laissez-faire permissiveness of liberal democracy. So he neatly lumps any self-identified misfit, outcast, or iconoclast under the banner. In fact, the book ends with the words, “Meet the new punk. Chances are it looks a lot like… you.”
As a result of this feel-good inclusiveness, Diehl’s overview of what it means to be punk circa 2007 includes a number of contradictory examples, all unified by their connection with the p-word. We meet emo kids who gush about Fall Out Boy on their MySpace profiles, defying the boundaries of small-town geography. We encounter old hands and three-chord workhorses like the Bouncing Souls and Pennywise, who emerged as promising Next Big Things, in the wake of Dookie’s mid-90s success, now viewed as potential also-rans in a scene that’s more competitive and market-like than ever before. And of course, there’s Green Day themselves, who picked up a Grammy for a quasi-rock opera that criticized the “redneck agenda” and the “subliminal mindfuck America”. But then Diehl throws readers a curveball, by suggesting that perhaps it’s the more experimental, poly-ethnic groups like Bloc Party and TV on the Radio who may be the most genuinely punk of all. Of course, since it’s ALL punk to him, and punk = freedom and diversity, he doesn’t feel the need to account for the differences between these various factions.
By refusing to commit to a standard definition, Diehl forces the readers to figure out which aspect of punk he’s referring to, at a given moment. This works fine if you’re somebody who has first-hand involvement with punk (or at least an active, long-standing fascination with it). However, for the book’s implied target audience – the kids weaned on Blink-182, and Jackass, and punk idols who date billionaire heiresses – the nuances of Diehl’s commentary may not be as immediately obvious.
Of course, the underlying message is that punk is something worth revitalizing, in the first place. But without a substantial way to qualify punk, the book fails as a call to arms. Indeed, cynics would argue that punk is just a kind of “false consciousness” – a loud, noisy pseudo-movement that inadvertently functions like a minor league for the corporate behemoths that it supposedly opposes. The only real way to bring about lasting change would be to just disregard the mainstream altogether, leaving one free to set his/her own cultural terms – less Michael Moore agit-prop, more Steve Jobs visionary pragmatism. But then others (like me) would say that’s exactly what makes something punk, to begin with.