This is Pop? Pt. 1

In anticipation for the upcoming Wild Weekend Power Pop Festival, being held in Austin on August 29th and 30th, we here at Hex Ed. decided to pay homage to this very misunderstood genre. In a cruel twist of fate, it has been tagged on "artists" such as Avril Lavigne* and The Jonas Brothers in recent years. Now we present to you part one in a series where we will seek to answer the age old question, "What the hell is power pop anyway?"




I'm Cruising comfortably at around 39000 feet and browsing through the touch screen library of music provided to me by my airline. Punching into the "Retro Rewind", I find the usual suspects: AC/DC and Madonna uncomfortably wedged together, some Howlin' Wolf and Buddy Holly for diversity purposes, and not just "The Best of The Police", but The Best of The Police and Sting. Whatever, I'll listen to anything at this point. It's an hour and a half flight and flying is on my short list of things I hate most.
Then my eyes fix on the prize, the Rockford, Illinois boys who took Budokon, the dudes who provided one of the finest songs on the Top Gun soundtrack, the band who finally got Big Star some recognition by recoding their song "In the Street" for That 70's Show, yes sir: Cheap Trick's Authorized Greatest Hits. The good amount of booze in my system at this point has failed miserably in providing me with any sleep leaving Cheap Trick becomes the answer to all my problems.

My finger immediately presses song 3, the 1977 tribute to ladies below the Mason-Dixon Line, "Southern Girls." I am drumming around like Bun E. Carlos, who in my estimation sits around number 2 or 3 in the greatest rock drummers of all time (I say three or four because of course John Bonham of Led Zepplin and Keith Moon of The Who are always fighting it out for number 1 in my head and somebody always drops somebody in that slot between them when conversing about drummers, so my love for Bun E. is firm but his place among drum gods is on a sliding scale). His intro to "Southern Girls" is almost Spector-worthy in its simplicity; combined with Rick Nielsen's dive bomber guitar work, it stands as maybe one of the greatest forgotten song intros of the entire 1970s, a time when songs were becoming more and more epic. Songs like this helped to bridge the path from the NY Dolls and The Ramones to heavy minimalism.

Once that song is over you get the definitive Cheap Trick anthem and possibly one of the greatest songs of all time, "Surrender". The Korean couple next to me is visibly frightened as I lip sync along to 4 minutes and 16 seconds of rock n' roll perfection. "Surrender but don't give yourself away," sung with a fist in the air, is a call to arms for an entire army with no direction. The question, "Whatever happened to all last season's losers of the year?" puts into focus the confusion of a post-hippie generation too stoned to really bother looking for an answer. "Surrender" speaks to the burnouts of the 1970s as "My Generation" spoke to the mods of the 1960s. I enthusiastically try and give my headphones to the Korean gentleman sitting next to me to try to get him to understand but he is too terrified of me to accept my offer. He declines with a swift shake of his head.
After listening to these two songs, I begin playing them obsessively, back to back, and over and over. Song 4 ends and I go right back to song 3. By the 3rd time around, I go on jamming to these two songs for the entire length of the flight. Nothing but songs 3 and 4 for 90 minutes.

It borders almost on O.C.D. but there is something that goes beyond comfort with these two songs as I play them enough times to get me back to JFK Airport. It dawns on me sometime after my 5th time around that really what the entire genre of "power pop" is about: The Nerves, 20/20, Wreckless Eric, Flamin' Groovies, and all these other bands that in some way or another can fall under the very loose definition of what power pop actually have the same thing in common; you can listen to any of them and they are all familiar. Sometimes repetitive but always familiar. It's comforting and safe but still has an air of excitement.
Especially when you are drunk and at 39000 feet in the air.





* Although she may not deserve to fall under the umbrella of power pop, Arvil sure does know how to steal it. I hope The Rubinoos take her Canadian-pseudo-Christian-rock to the cleaners in court over completely ripping off their 70s song "Boyfriend".