What Are the Odds of Reviving the Passion?

Bob Dylan can sound cranky when complaining about the hollowness of mainstream pop music, but it’s hard to ignore someone who inspired a pop revolution when he says conditions are so bad today that, if he were a teenager, he wouldn’t even think of music as a career.

“I’d probably turn to something like mathematics. That would interest me. Architecture would interest me,” he said recently--and his words are important when weighing the potential impact of America’s new crisis on popular music.

As an optimist who believes in the power of pop music to inspire and comfort, I want to think that today’s young generation of musicians will reflect the challenges of our times with the same imagination and force their counterparts did in the ‘60s.

On the surface, at least, there are parallels that encourage us to think history may repeat itself.

During the ‘60s, America faced social turmoil on several fronts, from civil rights to the Vietnam War. This unrest helped rock ‘n’ roll evolve from its ‘50s infancy into a mature and thoughtful art form, which young people used to address the country’s central concerns.

Today we are still dealing with the shock of the terrorist attacks and seemingly face a long period of international conflict. If history repeats itself, this could lead to a revival of purpose and passion in our mainstream pop diet.

But the cause-and-effect game is a dangerous one in the arts.

There will certainly be much to express in the coming months (and years?) as the nation struggles with a variety of issues. But it’s not a sure thing that young America will again use pop music to express itself.

There was a unique link between rock ‘n’ roll and young people in the ‘60s, and that connection just may not exist anymore.

Musicians didn’t rush to rock ‘n’ roll during the ‘60s to comment on world affairs. Instead, they were in love with the sound of the music and the image of the performer. Millions of young people around the world were intoxicated by the immediacy, rebellion and popularity of rock ‘n’ roll. Every other medium--from films to theater--seemed timid by comparison.

In the ‘50s, music’s message was the celebration of youth, underscored by every Elvis hip-shake, Chuck Berry guitar riff or Buddy Holly yelp. The Beatles may eventually have tried to get the world to give peace a chance, but they started out simply wanting to hold your hand.

The stampede to rock ‘n’ roll included many of the great young creative minds of the day, and these singer-songwriters eventually used their music to reflect on the world around them. Dylan is the one who demonstrated that rock and ideas could coexist. Commentary was the heartbeat of the folk scene that first brought him to national attention. But his imagination was triggered by the power of rock ‘n’ roll. He saw the way his generation responded to the energy and frenzy of the Beatles, and he too plugged in.

That raised the stakes for everyone, starting with the Beatles’ John Lennon, who saw the need to transform the subject matter of his own writing. Soon other groups began doing Dylan songs, eventually creating their own commentaries.

The impact spread to other genres as well. In ‘60s soul music, Sam Cooke moved from the earlier pop innocence of “You Send Me” to the anthem-like idealism of “A Change Is Gonna Come,” which was about civil rights. Curtis Mayfield took it to an even higher level with such socially conscious songs as “People Get Ready,” “This Is My Country” and “Choice of Colors.” Stevie Wonder and Marvin Gaye also tuned in to the new agenda.

But these artists emerged from a giant talent pool that was already in place during a time of social upheaval--a pool that doesn’t seem to exist today.

Aside from money, which should never be underestimated as motivation, there isn’t a lot to lure a serious artist to pop music today. There was the feeling in the ‘60s-- and even through much of the ‘70s--that music was something magical, a virtual life force that energized and cleansed. But it is viewed by many today as little more than product.

Commercial radio stations that once took pride in championing great young artists, no matter where they might be on the sales charts, are now interested only in records that get immediate listener response. It’s heartbreaking to hear radio programmers go on and on about how much they love a new record, and then stop playing it a week later because research shows that listeners haven’t caught on.

Record companies, under enormous pressure for quarterly profits, can no longer afford to sign an act--like Dylan or Bruce Springsteen or U2--and persevere through three or four weak-selling albums. They need immediate results, so the message to young record makers is: Give us a hit, or else.

This isn’t an attractive world for a serious artist.

There are some musicians, notably U2, who can make great, thoughtful music and still sell in the millions, but most of our true artists--Steve Earle, Tom Waits, PJ Harvey, et al--seem to be adrift on a life raft.

There will certainly be recordings addressing these tense times, but they will likely be along the lines of novelties such as Barry Sadler’s “Ballad of the Green Berets” rather than something profound enough to return pop music to its former state of social relevance and influence.

In the world of cable television, indie films, Web sites and magazines, there are so many places for thoughtful young people to turn if they want to express themselves on the issues.

How can pop music become an attractive outlet again?

If the record industry can’t supply an answer to that question, pop music may sit this one out.