In the dizzying carousel of popular culture, the music industry stands as a glaring testament to the contradictions and complexities of American culture. The public's fickle morality decides who gets a pass and who faces cultural exile, revealing deeper societal biases and selective outrage. While some musicians are ostracized for their transgressions, others continue to be celebrated, their sins conveniently overlooked. This paradox highlights the nuanced interplay of racism, sexism, historical context, and the ever-shifting zeitgeist.
The Racial Divide: Different Standards for Different Artists
Consider the case of R. Kelly and Michael Jackson, two Black artists with long histories of allegations against them. R. Kelly, with his predatory behavior toward young girls, finally faced legal consequences and public condemnation. Major platforms removed his music, and his reputation is in the shitter. Michael Jackson, despite numerous allegations of child sexual abuse, remains a beloved figure in popular culture. His music continues to sell, and his fans fiercely defend him. The disparity in their treatment can be partly attributed to Jackson's almost mythical status in the music world, but it also reflects society's consistently inconsistent application of justice. Law and order proponents find their assholes puckering when it’s (correctly) pointed out that Michael Jackson was never convicted of a crime. After all, allegations are not charges, and charges are not convictions.
Contrast this with Elvis Presley, a white artist whose relationship with a 14-year-old Priscilla Beaulieu is often romanticized. Presley remains an untouchable icon of American music (except to incendiary masters like Chuck D), his legacy untarnished by the same standards that condemn others to the dumpster fire. This plainly obvious double standard illustrates beautifully the racial bias at play, where Black artists are more readily vilified while white artists are given the benefit of historical context and valuable nostalgia, but that’s not the end of the story. It gets more complex.
Gender and the Redemption Arc
You had to know gender bias plays a significant role in the absurdly uneven application of cancel culture. Chris Brown's career is a fine example of this horseshit. After his violent assault on Rihanna, he faced a backlash but ultimately managed to stage a comeback, continuing to release hit records and maintain a loyal fanbase. On the other hand, Kesha's accusations of sexual and emotional abuse against Dr. Luke led to a prolonged legal battle and significant damage to her career, while Dr. Luke continued to work with high-profile artists. The different trajectories of their careers underscore how male artists often find redemption and continued success, while female artists suffer more lasting repercussions.
The Power of the Zeitgeist: Historical Context and Cultural Impact
The zeitgeist has always and will always shape who gets removed from public life and who doesn't. David Bowie's sexual exploits with underage girls in the 1970s are almost always fucking glossed over, viewed through the lens of rock-and-roll excess rather than criminal behavior. Similarly, John Lennon, despite his documented and admitted history of domestic abuse, is celebrated for his contributions to music and peace activism. Their transgressions are often seen as products of a different time - a convenient excuse that allows their legacies to remain largely intact.
Jimmy Page's relationship with a 14-year-old girl is another example of how rock legends are often given a pass. The cultural impact of Led Zeppelin overshadows Page's personal indiscretions, highlighting how an artist's influence can shield them from the full brunt of much-deserved public condemnation. This selective memory is not extended to all, particularly those who do not fit the mold of the untouchable rock star.
Social Media: The New Court of Public Opinion
Social media plays a pivotal role in modern cancel culture, acting as both judge and jury. The rapid spread of information and the intensity of online discourse can make or break a musician's career. For instance, XXXTentacion, despite a history of violent behavior, maintained a devoted fanbase that rallied around him online, ensuring his continued success until his death. Tupac Shakur was convicted of two counts of first-degree sexual abuse, but that was for “forcibly touching the woman’s buttocks,” and so Tupac mostly gets a pass from social justice warriors because what he did wasn’t THAT bad. He also wrote and performed an obscene number of hip-hop classics, so his literal crimes can be excused. The power of social media to shape narratives and influence public opinion cannot be understated, as it often determines who is forgiven and who is forever damned.
The Moral Jukebox: Picking and Choosing Our Outrage
Ultimately, the way society handles the fucking terrible behavior of musicians reveals more about our own moral flexibility than it does about the artists themselves. Fans are able and frequently do separate the art from the artist, justifying their continued support by focusing on the emotional connection they have with the music rather than the moral failings of its creator. We are almost forced to do this because the litany of crimes perpetrated by popular recording artists would limit what we can responsibly enjoy to the Lawrence Welk discography and King of Polka Jimmy Sturr’s output. And probably Dolly Parton because she’s perfect. We can forgive Marvin Gaye for fathering a child with a 16-year-old girl because What’s Going On is stunning in every conceivable way. We let Bill Withers slide for beating the shit out of Denise Nicholas because he wrote Grandma’s Hands. Miles Davis, perhaps the most outrageously gifted instrumentalist of the 20th Century published his autobiography in 1989. Titled Miles: The Autobiography, it could also reasonably have been titled Why I’m an Absolute Pile of Shit When I Don’t Have My Trumpet In My Hand. This cognitive dissonance allows society to simultaneously condemn and celebrate, to cancel and consume as their tastes and whims dictate. You, dear reader, are no exception. I plainly admit that I also am not. I still maintain Bill Cosby’s Himself recording is hilarious.
As Richard Pryor, another brilliant mind with severe behavioral issues, noted, “Who you gonna believe, me or your lyin’ eyes?” This encapsulates the selective blindness society often adopts, choosing to ignore the ugly and uncomfortable truths about beloved figures. This captures the essence of the selective outrage that defines cancel culture in the music industry. It's a reflection not of the artists’ crimes but of our own willingness to forgive when it suits us and to vilify when it aligns with our biases. We cherry-pick our heroes and villains, guided by a complex web of historical reverence, racial and gender biases, and the insatiable appetite for scandal.
In navigating this paradox, we are reminded that cancel culture is less about justice and more about the fluctuating tides of public sentiment. It is a reflection not of the artists’ crimes but of our own contradictions, our own hypocrisies, and ultimately, our own humanity.
Overall, I enjoyed and agreed with many of your suppositions.
However, I think you have a blind spot on your racism section in music. First, Elvis’s and Jerry Lee Lewis’s underage dalliances are no longer celebrated, but scrutinized in the light of “Me too”. As you noted with the pass for same underage escapades with Marvin Gaye, I think these examples are better reflective of sexism.
Also, as an avid Hip Hop fan, African American artists get away with a LOT of racism towards Caucasians and Asians in their lyrics - where the reverse would never be tolerated. Winston Marshall was famously cancelled for just LIKING a conservative book.
When is the last time a rap artist was cancelled for racially insensitive or offensive lyrics?
As far as sexism is concerned, the legal battle of Ke$ha is not an example of sexism yet. Allegations are not self evident proof. If Dr. Luke gets convicted and suffers no career damage, one might conclude sexism.
Also, women pop stars are allowed to push the limits with skimpy outfits in ways that straight male artists could never wear. Can you imagine Drake taking the stage only in a banana hammock thong? Yet, Cardi B can take the stage in dental floss, and nobody bats an eye.
Every so often, I see these posts on a particular social media platform (not this one) which ask us which historical figures should we stop idolizing. My answer is invariably all of them. One of the little idiosyncrasies of the Torah is pretty interesting. Even The Almighty admits to things we’d call character flaws. Each and every person there is blatantly flawed. Get into the later books, and all of the people who are supposed to be lauded as heroes are deeply flawed people.
I think you hit on something important here. Being eusocial animals, we’re inclined to belong to groups, and groups tend to have leaders, right? Leaderless groups are frequently disorganized masses in which people immediately scramble to find a unifying voice, and unless we ignore the leader’s feet of clay, they’re ineffective.
Take a look at Dave Chappelle. Quite possibly one of the most insightful and hilarious comedians alive. He’s also been squarely in JK Rowling’s corner when it comes to her anti-trans rhetoric. An old Navy buddy of mine is Black and transgender, and he finds himself between two communities, so he picks one.
Ultimately, the hard part is thinking for ourselves, appreciating the mad genius of some people’s work, and reminding ourselves that the line between genius and madness isn’t fine at all. It’s blurry as hell.