The rise of pop music depended upon the disposable income of the newly-created "teeny-bopper" in the years after WWII. The odd thing is that most of the musicians and singers had been influenced by the silly and quaint recordings of adult musicians and singers. There has always been silly music. The advent of stupid music apparently had to wait until the early sixties. Since then, the self-referential nature of pop has recycled and regurgitated itself ad infinitum and ad nauseum.

There are young "punk" children discovering the wonderfulness of Blondie and the Sex Pistols without realizing just how "manufactured" they were. Of course, in the age of Puff Daddy and The Matrix, it really won't bother them a bit. The fact that the early Stones, most of the Beatles and everybody from Buddy Holly to Bob Dylan were stage-managed to a fare-thee-well also doesn't faze them. It would be hard, if not next to impossible to show them what a shock it was to hear a brand new Chuck Berry single on the jukebox after riding in a car that had Doris Day on the radio.

In the end, to my dying day, I will champion the primacy of the song, regardless of style or form. A really good song transcends trends and fashion, stage-managing and editorial fiat. A truly discerning singer can take a good song and make it magnificent. A stupid singer can take a good song and make it stink to a traditionalist, but may also make it accessible to a youngster who would otherwise never have heard of it.