THE UNFORTUNATE AUTHORITY ON FIGHTING AUTHORITY

I think it’s generally accepted that there are more than a few classic rock tunes. From Chuck Berry’s “Maybelline” (1955) through the Sonics’ “Strychnine” (1965), the Dictators’ “(I Live For) Cars and Girls” (1975), Sonic Youth’s “Death Valley ’69” (1985), Bikini Kill’s “I Like Fucking” (1995), and onward, there are a lot of truly classic rock songs. It is nothing less than a perversion of our mother tongue that none of the aforementioned tunes can legally be referred to as classic rock in the way the term has come to be used.

The reason for this can be pinned almost entirely on a guy who resembles Bilbo Baggins’ favorite doughnut vendor—a pseudo-hip ass-hat named Lee Abrams. Still lurking around the corridors of power somewhere, Abrams was the turd who winkled out how radio stations might earn a few more bucks by making their DJs work from an approved playlist with minimal talking. This actually began happening in the mid-’70s, more or less destroying the “free form” format then available from a hip FM station or two in almost every major metro area (as well as more than a few in the boonies). Regarding this loose arrangement—which allowed music freaks to spin great records only they knew existed—Lee moped that it was just “some guy in a basement in Brooklyn, burning incense and playing whatever he pleased.’’ Yeah, okay. What’s the fucking problem? Apart from the incense.