Mention the term "prog rock"-or its attendant incarnation, "concept album"-and you're liable to provoke reactions as varied, violent and oppositional as a Congressional debate over Iraq war intelligence. There are those who dismiss prog rock as the hallmark of the anti-Christ, a bloated, self-indulgent and unlistenable genre. And there are those who think of it as genius.
Either way, the definition of prog rock (short for "progressive rock") is difficult to pin down. With its recurrent themes of experimentalism, long songs, often elements of noise, and the marks of constant, intricate tinkering, prog has a reputation for geekiness, viewed as the musical equivalent of, say, the art of computer programming. Some say Pink Floyd's
The Wall
is the ultimate prog rock album; others conclude it is too "accessible" to be legitimate prog. But
The Wall
does serve as a guide with its long, sweeping, experimental songs and definite concept.
Prog began in the late '60s but its heyday was the '70s, when bands like Yes, early Genesis and Rush found that concepts, layers and layers of tracks piled on top of each other and fusion sensibilities could also sell records. The genre faded toward the end of the '80s, at least in terms of popular music and, for awhile, the musical scene was devoid of concept albums and the like.
But now prog is back. Big time. Big time as in even Aimee Mann has a concept album out now. Big time as in smarmy indie rock Web site
, once the champion of all things streamlined and basic, now salivates over new proggish albums with an enthusiasm once reserved only for Kurt Cobain. Big time as in the mainstream softie rag Entertainment Weekly ran a long article about the new prog last summer. Prog is the new grunge. I blame Radiohead.
There's no better time, then, for Half Rack Studios to host a band often described as prog. USA is a Monster (9 pm Wednesday, Nov. 23. $5, Half Rack Studios, 1556 Center Court, 930-1700) is stopping by along with the Kites, a noise improv group (you see the bedfellows prog picks up-no wonder it's got a bad rep). USA recently released
Wohaw
, a smashing wallop of a concept album, the concept in this case being
George W Bush is a crazy asshole and he represents the historical propensity of our nation to really screw things up. And he is destroying the world.
It's not an original idea, but
Wohaw
treats it with mind-expanding aplomb: masses of guitars alternating between a cascade of sound and chiming melody lines; waterfalls of drums; surprising-but accessible-melodies and song structures that bust right through expectation and into an Alice in Wonderland world of multi-layered sound. The album is loud, sometimes abrasive, sometimes easy, teetering between Eastern scales and Western melodic metal along with some off-center acoustic ramblings. Yeah, it's a heavy, massive sonic attack-but considering the current state of the world, both the lyrics and the composition are entirely appropriate.
It makes sense, really, that this type of prog rock and concept album revitalization have coincided with a time of large-scale terror. Think of the late '60s through the early '80s when the first round of prog was so popular, marked by the Cold War: its ever-escalating stockpiles of nuclear weapons, scary rhetoric between US and USSR, the rich black earth of the Midwest pockmarked with underground missile silos instead of gopher holes-these were exceptionally frightening things. It was pretty much a foregone conclusion we were all gonna die some horrible, face-melting death. Combine that with Jimmy Carter's "national malaise," deep economic problems, excruciating violence in the Middle East and the national trauma of Vietnam, the muddied war we didn't really want to fight. During many of those years, we were one depressed nation and scared shitless to boot. Sound familiar?
One musical reaction to our collective depression and fear at that time was prog rock, albums whose concepts revolved around the end of the world and subsequent post-apocalyptic campfire songs. Nowadays our fear is not death by massive retaliation but death by nucleo/bio/chemical/whatever terror attacks, but the result is the same-we're freaked out as a people and in need of a big national gulp of Prozac. And back comes prog. And the question becomes, why is nerdy, cerebral, heavily processed rock one reaction to communal fright and depression?
The answer is in the demographics. British punk came from a demographic that was being crushed by poverty. For that demographic, the speedy, low-maintainance aesthetic of punk made sense: In London, at the time, a bass and half-broken guitar were cheaper and easier to obtain-and required less hassle to learn to play-than five synthesizers and a double-bass drum kit.
Our current state affects a larger swath of people, and the meat of the demographic-unlike with punk-is middle class. And middle class people, for better or worse, have more money, more access and more time to tinker and invent, to stew over apocalyptic fantasies, to spend hours in the garage poring over a used Moog synthesizer. Prog often requires much more than bass/drums/guitar. It needs expensive keyboards and fancy drum kits, lots of effects, recording equipment and a big space to put it all. And who has the dough, the leisure time and the desire to support such needs? The American middle class.
All of which could fall into the trap of self-indulgence, and often it does. But USA is a Monster proves the opposite. Self-indulgence requires a turning inward of energy, a selfish manifestation of emotion and creativity, but Wohaw pours everything it has very much outward. Its dervish of emotion and controlled musical frenzy implore you to listen, transforming layers of anguish, fury and fear into something intelligent, compassionate and graspable-a work of near-genius.
I recommend catching the USA is a Monster show tonight for that very reason, but keep in mind you might very well love this band, or you might leave grabbing your ears and cursing me with an ancient gypsy spell for sending you there. Either way, you won't forget it. And that's progress.
