FUNC MUSIC: FUNCTIONALISM, PUNK, AND ZEN ARCADE
The idea of functionalism is one that we frequently apply to architecture but rarely do we talk about in music. Functionalism theorizes that the essence of something is in the biological and social needs of the individual. In short, the essence of anything is in its function. When I think of functionalism in music, I can’t help but think about Technotronic. Remember them? Technotronic’s “Pump up the Jam” has one function. Whether it was in a bad dance club in the early 1990s or at any sporting event you have ever attended, the song’s function is to get your heartbeat up, get you up, and ultimately “get your body pumpin’”. Technotronic has no other function.
This week’s episode prompted me to think further about the role of functionalism in music, but in punk music and ultimately Hüsker Dü. And, I can say without reservation, is the only piece ever written that connects Hüsker Dü and Technotronic.
The easiest place to start this conversation might be in mid-1960s Britain. Young British baby boomers found themselves in an economy that was finally growing after years of post-war stabilization. These young people found themselves in a new burgeoning economy that called on them to work 9–5, Monday to Friday. When Fridays came around, these young Brits called on by Friday night’s episode of Ready, Steady, Go would begin their weekend. They needed an outlet, and for the first time, many had something that working-class Brits had never had: some disposable income. Clubs were packed with the sounds of American R&B and newer British acts from London, Tottenham, and of course, Liverpool. The function of this music was simple: get people to dance. However, over the next few years, that function changed.
The musicians pushed themselves. The Beatles grew from “She Loves You” to “Tomorrow Never Knows”. Pink Floyd went from playing basic R&B to releasing Piper at the Gates of Dawn. The Zombies went from “She’s Not There” to Odessey and Oracle. The function of music changed, and with the movement, music changed from a function of entertainment to an art form.
Let’s skip ahead ten years. These art forms have been commercialized, and from that, commercialization has come arena rock. Young bitter Brits, mirroring to a certain extent, America’s young angry punk movement are looking for a basic and functional form of music. They are looking for music that was real. They were looking for music that moved them both literally and figuratively. The music they sought was punk.
We must remember that punk was happening on both sides of the pond, and at this very point in America, bands were also taking the sounds of the MC5, The Stooges, and New York Dolls and giving it their take. The truth is that to a teen with a cheap guitar, Genesis is unattainable, but The Ramones and the Sex Pistols are not. Besides, the frustrated young people coming to see late-seventies punk had no interest in Genesis, Led Zeppelin, or any other band that played in front of a gong. What they wanted was three chords and authenticity. And, this is where Hüsker Dü finds themselves.
Coming out of St. Paul, Minnesota, Hüsker Dü begins with a love of The Ramones and kick-out functional music for frustrated mid-west teens. It is worth noting that in the same year, their twin-city of Minneapolis spawns The Replacements. Black Flag and The Minutemen are just getting started in California. The Meat Puppets in Pheonix. No Means No and D.O.A. are tearing it up in Vancouver. The late first stage of American punk is frighteningly intense in 1979. Yet, as much as everyone knows The Ramones, significantly less know Hüsker Dü.
These musicians — much like their R&B contemporaries in the early ’60s — were growing as musicians. And that growth reaches its zenith in 1984 with;
- Hüsker Dü’s Zen Arcade
- The Minutemen’s Double Nickels on the Dime
- The Replacements Let it Be
- Black Flag’s Slip It In
- The Meat Puppet’s Meat Puppets II
Bob Mould once said that Zen Arcade was not punk rock because “it was against punk rock”. This manifest carries a healthy dose of disdain for a genre he loved so much, but the truth is that it is not a punk record. The functionalist punk sound that was on Land Speed Record or Everything falls Apart was gone. The backmasking on “Toothfairy & The Princess” would sound more at home on a Hendrix record. Mould’s guitar on “Never Talking to You” sounds eerily like Johnny Marr. And, of course, we are talking here about a rock opera. The very idea of such a thing implies high art. But, that is just the point.
As intense and loud as Hüsker Dü was, their sound (like many of their contemporaries) outgrew the functionality of punk. And that outgrowth is on full display in Zen Arcade. It was no longer about making people slam dance. It was about making people think. 1984 is the year where punk became a thinking person’s music. In Zen Arcade Punk became “high art”.
