When you think about it, Neil Young, who said the above in an Eighties song, was right. Syntax be damned, live music are better. But, as we, unfortunately, get older, we are putting up with less and less of it.

A prime example of this is the Stone Pony, the Asbury Park, New Jersey haunt where a fellow by the name of Bruce Springsteen got his start and, when he is in town, he is still legend for showing up late on a Sunday night, dancing with the ladies and jumping on stage and jamming with the house band.

Despite this pedigree, the Stone Pony is coming closer and closer to closing its doors, for good. Why? The so-called "older crowd," that is, the ones who are of age to buy the beer and alcohol that is the life blood of a club or bar’s existence, are staying home. And, the young people who are coming there at night are often too young to drink, and horror of horrors, they look for only one thing:

A deejay.

Why the shift away from live music? The commentators seem to have isolated a number of causes, from noise complaints of neighbors near the clubs to strict drinking and smoking laws. Whatever the reason(s), the number of people who appreciate, and attend clubs and theatres that promote, live music is shinking.

The night life, like Willie said, ain’t no good life.

What is happening is that patrons do, indeed, seem to prefer disk jockeys, or deejays, who play the songs that they hear on the radio. Unfortunately, this is good for the club owners, too, who find it much cheaper to pay one deejay than a whole band. On top of that, it has been reported that people in the suburbs, heck, you and me, are working longer hours, commuting longer distances to work and, yikes, striving for a healthier living style, and therefore don’t go out at all. Moreover, since they are dependent on their vehicles for work, they dare not chance the possibility of losing their driving privileges on a drunk driving rap.

This has given us the absolute bane of live music existence, the coffehouse. These establishments cater more to the health conscious, spiritually awakening, into self types who would rather sit in a corner and read Kirkegaard and Camus rather than shaking it on a dance floor.

Is that bad? No. Is it weird. No. Is it killing live music? Yes.

Today, live music has been replaced in many locations by the uniquely bizaare creation known as "karaoke," which enables us to show the entire world how tone deaf we all are when we sing in the shower. What is really ironic, though, is that most karaoke singers need a good belt, or two, before taking the stage, which could, in a strange way, bring back drinking in public places.

The bands that do remain in these clubs and lounges, frankly, give live music a bad name. Most of the time, they consist of lily white, poorly dressed synthesizer players, if you can call them even that, with a programmed drum machine, and a shrieky singer who has delusions of being somewhere between Mariah Carey, Natalie Cole, and Michael Bolton.

It’s safe, it’s antiseptic and it’s boring as hell. Give me a bumpersticker.

Comments to Mark T. Gould

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