NOW LOOK AT THEM YO-YOS, THAT'S THE WAY YOU DO IT: As someone whose adolescence overlaps precisely with the 1980s (became a teenager in 1980, graduated from college in 1989), I have a hard time admitting that MTV has entered the realm of "history." But the network celebrated its 26th birthday this summer, and we now have a whole generation for whom A Flock of Seagulls and Men Without Hats are as distant and obscure as Walter Mondale or Iran-Contra.
Founded in 1981 by 27-year-old Bob Pittman (later to achieve notoriety as the fall guy for the AOL/Time Warner fiasco) MTV took record companies' promotional videos and turned them into a new cultural brand: Music Television. Packaging both the network and its programming as odd blend of hip novelty and synthetic product, the channel's earliest promo spots were more about attitude than art, as video stars repeated, ad nauseam, "I want my MTV!" Judging by the early press coverage, MTV could do no wrong: it revived the moribund recording industry, attracted a young and free-spending demographic, and showcased some genuinely innovative videos.
In its first couple of years, though, MTV had a major race problem. In the documentary series The History of Rock & Roll, video director (and all-around pop-culture genius) Don Letts tells a story of arriving at MTV's studios for a 1982 interview, only to be greeted by shocked staffers who told him that his physical appearance (black, with heavy dreads) wouldn't go over well with MTV's "target audience." Platinum-selling performers like Rick James and Michael Jackson could not get their videos into the channel's rotation. Eventually, the story goes, Columbia threatened to pull all of its videos unless MTV started playing "Billie Jean." The network soon capitulated, and by late 1983 the "white only" policy had quietly died away. Within a year or two, rap made its MTV debut with Run-D.M.C. and the Beastie Boys; by 1988 hip hop could boast its own regular program, Yo! MTV Raps, which joined 120 Minutes and Headbangers Ball in segmenting the network's audience into more manageable and marketable parts. (And, of course, in 1992 came the first season of The Real World, which in retrospect marked the dawning of a very different kind of MTV.)
Back in summer 2006, around MTV's 25th anniversary, we reflected on the network's high points in programming and special events. For this occasion, let's shift the focus a bit, away from MTV per se and toward the cultural form it popularized: the music video. How have music videos influenced other arenas of popular culture, such as popular music, television, and film? Are music videos really a genuine, independent form of popular culture, or are they merely advertisements for other products, like CDs, TV shows, and movies? With MTV increasingly focusing on reality shows and other original programs, is music video as a pop-culture form doomed to extinction, or will it endure in other settings?
Next week: hip hop and turkey (no class on Wednesday or Friday). By the way, if you're looking for some Thanksgiving reading (in addition to Life of Pi), pick up a copy of Steven Johnson's Everything Bad Is Good for You; I'll be discussing it during the week of December 3.
Founded in 1981 by 27-year-old Bob Pittman (later to achieve notoriety as the fall guy for the AOL/Time Warner fiasco) MTV took record companies' promotional videos and turned them into a new cultural brand: Music Television. Packaging both the network and its programming as odd blend of hip novelty and synthetic product, the channel's earliest promo spots were more about attitude than art, as video stars repeated, ad nauseam, "I want my MTV!" Judging by the early press coverage, MTV could do no wrong: it revived the moribund recording industry, attracted a young and free-spending demographic, and showcased some genuinely innovative videos.
In its first couple of years, though, MTV had a major race problem. In the documentary series The History of Rock & Roll, video director (and all-around pop-culture genius) Don Letts tells a story of arriving at MTV's studios for a 1982 interview, only to be greeted by shocked staffers who told him that his physical appearance (black, with heavy dreads) wouldn't go over well with MTV's "target audience." Platinum-selling performers like Rick James and Michael Jackson could not get their videos into the channel's rotation. Eventually, the story goes, Columbia threatened to pull all of its videos unless MTV started playing "Billie Jean." The network soon capitulated, and by late 1983 the "white only" policy had quietly died away. Within a year or two, rap made its MTV debut with Run-D.M.C. and the Beastie Boys; by 1988 hip hop could boast its own regular program, Yo! MTV Raps, which joined 120 Minutes and Headbangers Ball in segmenting the network's audience into more manageable and marketable parts. (And, of course, in 1992 came the first season of The Real World, which in retrospect marked the dawning of a very different kind of MTV.)
Back in summer 2006, around MTV's 25th anniversary, we reflected on the network's high points in programming and special events. For this occasion, let's shift the focus a bit, away from MTV per se and toward the cultural form it popularized: the music video. How have music videos influenced other arenas of popular culture, such as popular music, television, and film? Are music videos really a genuine, independent form of popular culture, or are they merely advertisements for other products, like CDs, TV shows, and movies? With MTV increasingly focusing on reality shows and other original programs, is music video as a pop-culture form doomed to extinction, or will it endure in other settings?
Next week: hip hop and turkey (no class on Wednesday or Friday). By the way, if you're looking for some Thanksgiving reading (in addition to Life of Pi), pick up a copy of Steven Johnson's Everything Bad Is Good for You; I'll be discussing it during the week of December 3.
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