Rock 'n Roll Snobs: Admit It, You're One, Aren't You?

Rock and roll was a working class phenomenon. It arose from hillbillies and sharecroppers, and it was animalistic and sexual. It was all about the beat and whether you could dance to it. But as country and blues and jazz and Western Swing and folk all converged to become rock and roll, and then become a music sensation in the ‘50s, snobs were already entering the picture. Think about the movie Diner, with the character who was an obsessive record collector in 1962.

Really, snobs are everywhere. Food snobs, movie snobs, fashion snobs, and so on and so forth. As rock in the age of Dylan and The Beatles became appreciated by some as serious stuff, this just added fuel to the fire. But rock snobbishness really took root in the ‘70s and flowered in the ‘80s, the first decade where a sizable number of musicians realized that they did not have to strive for wide appeal. The underground became, slowly but surely, more viable, and, in its own way, became a secondary mainstream. There was mainstream music, college radio music, music a bit too obscure for college radio, and then stuff that no one would touch.

This just added fuel to the snob fire. For some, it was the notion that once a band reached a certain plateau of success (gold record, radio airplay, major label deal, large indie deal, playing club over 100 capacity, actually recording a song, playing in public...), the band was no longer worthwhile. With others, it became a recognition of niches and genres and artist who never made it, that became part of a body of knowledge that only those who didn't listen to the radio could understand.

Snobbishness is not necessarily a bad thing. It's all a matter of degree. If the snob in question can't acknowledge that Kelly Clarkson's "Since You've Been Gone" is a pretty well written tune, and wants to disown Ted Leo for recording it, stay away. But if the snob can stay open minded, while always trying to listen to the stuff that fits his standard of quality, then I can relate. Because I'll certainly admit that I'm a rock snob. But being a snob is harder than ever, with increasing media proliferation and the Internet. There are more forums to learn about new bands and new genres. When I was in college, knowing about the Velvet Underground was a mark of great knowledge. Now, there are websites and forums dedicated to the Velvet Undergrounds of the future.

Still, having a bunch of snob knowledge in one place was irresistible. Thus, it was with curiosity that I picked up the book The Rock Snob's Dictionary by David Kamp and Steven Daly. This book expands upon the pieces of the same name that the two writers have contributed to Vanity Fair magazine for its annual music issue. In four or five pages, Kamp and Daly would pen small entries about artists on the margin of rock, utilizing a style that was at time snarky, and more often condescending. And by condescending, I mean condescending in the manner of that irritating clerk at your local hipper-than-thou indie record store in the flannel shirt with the appropriate t-shirt underneath, whose whole posture and tone of voice is a quiet sneer directed at anything you say. In short doses, the tone of magazine pieces was somewhat amusing.

However, stretched out to book length, it becomes fairly irritating. The book is odd to begin with, because it is a reference work of sorts, yet it's written in a style that is certainly intended to be entertaining. Specifically, the pose the writers strike is meant to be humorous, but the joke is too thin to work after the few dozen pages. Moreover, it is obvious that with some entries, the condescension is replaced by contempt, as Kamp and Daly imply that some folks should not be part of the snob canon.

To their credit, Kamp and Daly did a decent job insofar as this book is a reference guide. A real rock snob would decry numerous omissions, but as I was reading there were only a few entries that I really was surprised were missing (like The Fall, f'rinstance). And a snob would certainly take issue with some of the artists whom they belittle. I find their dislike of Badfinger to be strange – they might not be as good as their acolytes say, but they made some great music. Of course, I think their entry on Sparks shows a lack of knowledge.

I realize that the tone of the articles was the reason a publisher wanted to make this a book. Still, had they recast it, to where it was a bit more in the vein of ‘we're one of you', this book could have had more value. I guess that a fair amount of true rock snobs wouldn't touch this book in the first place. But I do think there are a fair amount of dyed-in-the-wool rock fans who would get into a guide into the lesser known areas of rock. Although most of the book was old hat for me, I did learn some things from reading it.

It's too bad the book isn't better, because the basic concept is a good one. However, maybe it's just a case that rock snobbery is just one of those things you have to learn as you go along, instead of having it spoon fed to you.

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