War and Music

On the train I looked over someone’s shoulder, reading a Red-Eye—one of those daily papers they hand out at stations only to be tossed into the trash once your destination is reached. The paper starts out with palatable snippets of hard news, then segues into your standard pop-culture fare—Britney’s breakdowns, American Idol triumphs. The headline “4,000 Dead” made me flinch as usual, and the guy reading it flipped to the next page quickly. Can I say I blame him? I myself have only read what’s going on with Barack and Hillary lately, having given up on any immediate withdrawal of troops or end to the suicide bombings, at least until a new presidency is instilled. I guess that’s my way of keeping hope alive—knowing that something of a fresh start (even Hillary would be fresh at this point, I think) could eventually make this madness cease. But is such a claim of patience (or is it more helplessness) a cop-out? Is a dependency on one figure to reverse our missteps just one more misstep?

I admire those who aren’t as emotionally fragile as me (as weak as it sounds, I can sometimes lose a whole day to sadness if I think too deeply on what’s going on in our world) who can face the ugliness and even stand up to it, in concrete or symbolic action, in expression. A group of protestors who call themselves “Catholic Schoolgirls Against the War” recently entered an Easter Sunday church service in Chicago to perform a “die-in,” squirting fake blood on themselves to elicit empathy for Iraqi citizens who have seen their holiest days marred by violence. While I agree with the cardinal that mass wasn’t the place to do this—parishioners were truly frightened and upset by the intrusion—the protestors in a statement announced they took the gamble “to reach both Holy Name’s large Easter audience—including Chicago’s most prominent Catholic citizens, who commonly attend Easter mass at the church—and the many more viewers and readers of the local press, which usually extensively covers their services.” Their goal was to remind the churchgoers that cardinal George and Daley met two months ago with the president, described as the “principal public figure responsible for initiating the carnage in Iraq.” It’s all so messy, heartbreaking, but fascinating too. One one side you have the protestors who took an extreme symbolic action to its end, which rouses complicated feelings of admiration and irritation, and then the parishioners and their children who just wanted to have a simple, peaceful Easter mass, but whose American bubble of false safety was pierced by the action. There is no black and white here, really.  

What of musicians who address the war? They don’t have to storm into a church to relay their feelings of rage, disappointment and frustration. Lyrics can suffice. But many critics and musicians look down on those artists who take it upon themselves to be political artists, as if art has no place in that realm. I greatly disagree. I think politically charged art is one of the most peaceful tools towards creating a global consciousness against war and for peace. When done right, it can not only rouse the listener to want something better for this world, but also completely rock. That’s why albums like “Hail to the Thief” by Radiohead and “In Our Bedroom After the War” by the Stars are underrated masterpieces.

 

Or from a jauntier viewpoint, but equally articulate, the amazing Nelly McKay. These artists are able to address global concerns through the universal connector of music, with passion and eloquence. And to connect others in consciousness against corruption, in hope for peace, is an act not to be disdained. It’s something I myself haven’t attempted on a grand scale with my music–relationships and human connection remain my greatest fuel– but I edge towards it in my writing, at least in thinking about the broken world’s effect on our psyches, our lives’ and love’s effect on the broken world.