They may not rule the radio airwaves, and their videos might not be featured on the latest episode of MTV's Total Request Live, but believe me when I tell you they're out there. You know who I'm talking about - all those guys and gals with guitars strapped to their bodies like vital organs who will stretch their vocal chords in front of just about anything resembling a microphone. These are the singer-songwriters with no label, no manager...just the music in their souls and plenty of heartbreak to cry about. And here in Boston, there seems to be no shortage of the species. If you're looking in the right places, they seem to be everywhere from music clubs to subway platforms.
I have nothing against singer-songwriters. In fact, I'm not ashamed to admit that I myself own an acoustic guitar. I've even been known to write my own music from time to time about failed relationships and my misgivings about life and love. I just choose not to subject the rest of the world to my moaning and groaning. This much can not be said, however, for the musicians who often grace the stages of such venues as Club Passim and The Somerville Theatre, or whose CDs cross the threshold of the Daily office and into our mailbox. Whether on stage or on an album, they fearlessly bare their emotions and life experiences before audiences of complete strangers, and every moment feels nothing short of genuine. And if you're the kind of concertgoer who appreciates the latest brand of folk music, there's no denying that the new generation of singer-songwriters is, for the most part, quite talented. They know how to manipulate their instrument and write the kind of lyrics that make you feel as though each song were written specifically with you in mind.
But here's where they falter - with the exception of a singer-songwriter enthusiast's personal favorites, most of these performers are hard to tell apart. There's no doubt that they are gifted; it's just that they each tend to be talented in all the same ways. They can all write music, play guitar, and compose lyrics that are honest and heartfelt. The problem is that after a while, it all begins to sound the same. Everyone has suffered a broken heart at one point or another in their lives - singer-songwriters are not the only ones who have lost at the game of love. In fact, you can only listen to so many "I will never love again because of you" songs. And after a while, each of their individual laments melds into one big sad song, to the point that, unless you have an especially discerning ear, you can't be sure if it's Lori McKenna or Kris Delmhorst that you're listening to.
This lack of originality can further be attributed to a shortage of inspiration. Think back on the days of the original singer-songwriter era - Joni Mitchell, James Taylor and Carole King had more than their love lives to work from. The '60s and '70s were a time of turmoil and change in this country - from the sexual revolution to civil rights, people felt compelled to speak their minds. People including musicians. Music became an arena for expressing political and social sentiments, and the singer-songwriters of the time fully capitalized on the opportunity. This is not to say that they didn't write love songs, because they did. It's just that they didn't stop there. Due to a less turbulent social climate, today's singer-songwriter simply has a lot less to work with and is turning to heartbreak to make up for it. The result - a slew of love songs from countless singer-songwriters that seemingly have nothing new to say.
Still, perhaps there is some comfort to be had in the knowledge that these singer-songwriters appear to flourish the way that they are. After all, the current climate of mainstream music does not exactly embrace anything resembling folk. Flip on the radio these days and you'll be hard pressed to find anything outside the realm of rap, classic rock, or bubble gum pop. Even the Billboard Top 200 is a representation of this anti-folk phenomenon - while legends like Neil Young and Bonnie Raitt have recently managed to find a place for themselves amongst the top-selling albums, artists like Ashanti, Celine Dion, Linkin Park, and Pink are still indisputably the norm. And no one can deny that they are certainly a far cry from singer-songwriters. But despite whatever various charts and countdowns might reflect, there's no ignoring the innumerable concert listings each weekend in local publications from The Improper Bostonian to The Phoenix for artists like Dar Williams, Mark Erelli, and Steve Tannen. You might not know who they are, but their survival in a world where *NSYNC and Britney Spears rule the airwaves is evidence of a prominent and powerful contingent of fans who do.
Despite their shortcomings, it looks like the new generation of singer-songwriters is here to stay - at least in Boston. People seem to love their acoustic music. And as long as these fans attend concerts and buy albums, the singer-songwriter community will continue to flourish. Which is okay, even if it all sounds the same. Things could be worse - we could always have a community of Ricky Martin wannabes instead.
