The Bush Barrage

Making fun of the president in a public forum is not cool. It was once. It is no longer.

Those guys and gals who threw fruit at his limo on the day of his inauguration, they were cool. You know why? They were the originals. They had moxie.

However.

The lead singer of young Buffalo rock act, The Winter Sleepers, lacks moxie.

"Is anybody here really going vote for him?" he asked Saturday night at the Continental. "Come on, admit it. We're all friends here. Nobody's going to beat you up." I don't think you had anybody worried, kid. You don't look like the kind of guy that puts "Beats up Republicans" on his r?(c)sum?(c).

He's only the latest on my list of redundant jokers. Vocalizing one's discontent with George W. Bush is no longer a bold move. You hate him? You're far from alone.

The Dixie Chicks, NOFX, Pearl Jam, Bruce Springsteen, and R.E.M. have rounded out the commentary in the musical forum. Martin Sheen, Susan Sarandon and Matt Damon have covered the bases of the Screen Actors' Guild. Even Casey Kasem, famed radio announcer of the American Top 40, has gotten in on the action.

As already massively popular stars, each of those artists has risked something in openly criticizing a president who has a love-hate relationship with the American public. The Dixie Chicks lost a large portion of their fan base, and Springsteen's definitely got a lot of fans in overalls. As they are therefore not necessarily preaching to the converted, their statements have difference-making potential.

But to further bludgeon home the point, artist after artist releases an album with one track that issues a pointed attack on Bush. Of the ones recently covered in this paper, Otep had "Warhead," Green Day had "American Idiot," and Jello Biafra and The Melvins had "The Lighter Side of Global Terrorism."

Sum 41 jumped on the wagon, in the same lackadaisical manner with which they hopped on top of ragging on groups whose names start with "The," i.e. The Strokes. A Perfect Circle politicized itself, drawing a parallel, if discretely, between the wars in Iraq and Vietnam, by poorly covering John Lennon's "Imagine."

This is most certainly not to say that music should not be politicized. Music is doubtlessly a great forum though which to incite change. There comes a point, however, when a point has been made to such an extent that it becomes a selling point more than a rebellious act. The commodification of opinion is a wonderful thing, for record companies.

Record execs scored huge on that whole psychedelic rock movement and surely aim to do the same with the Bush barrage. While artists try most earnestly to oust the president this November, execs must shudder at the thought. If he goes, they'll have to start all over and hope that Kerry does something in his first year as treacherous as Bush's opportunism with relation to 9/11.

If he makes it though, they'll have another four years of immeasurable frustration on the parts of the artists upon which to draw. There are countless dollars to be made here, as frustration is a profitable emotion.

The phrase, "Not My President" or any between-song crack that basically reiterates that the guy's a Gump, presently serve not to influence voters in swing-states but to line the pockets of the artists and the labels.

The issues that have made Bush a less-than-desirable leader are a little too complicated to be exposed and debated in pop music. Sure, there's the whole unnecessarily aggressive predisposition and vapid dismissive attitude towards issues that don't affect him personally, but those are points that have been made and to advance them would be to ignore the essence of an artistic statement.

Whether or not Bush should be re-elected is, at this point, an argument that would be best settled artistically in the documentary film forum. A poignant dialogue is being waged between filmmakers Michael Moore and Kevin Knoblock, who has answered the statements made in "Fahrenheit 9/11" with "Celsius 41.11," respectively.

Leave the cracks on Bush's inability to speak to Jay Leno and Conan O'Brien. They get paid to beat dead horses.