Eva Lau-Johnston
14 Nov 2024
Should we gatekeep gatekeeping? Eva looks into the practice of gatekeeping music and one’s musical tastes. After all, music is the essence of communication in the digital age, and ultimately, is the way that the world becomes intelligible to our generation.
With the emergence of new media and the ubiquity of digitisation in the modern day, the practice of gatekeeping artists and their music has become increasingly common in pursuit of maintaining ownership over them. This is perhaps driven by a need to be seen as esoteric, a phenomenon that has emerged in opposition to the basic popularity of the radio-hit-machine. However, acknowledging and engaging with music can be a tool for transcending social barriers and familial histories. In the political sphere, this individualism is futile and counter-productive. The universality of music is so integral to its appeal, surpassing generations, social barriers and political campaigns. It is through these means that music may be considered a necessary tool for social connection.
Music can and should be used to bridge cultural gaps, especially in a world recovering from the social and mental segregation of the pandemic. It is our responsibility - fellow musicians and listeners alike - to gatekeep the phenomenon of gatekeeping itself and to encourage the dissemination of music.
Music as a social tool is often understood through the lens of relationships - platonic, romantic or otherwise. Sharing musical tastes and interests can be key to establishing relationships with others. This is increasingly relevant in the digital age, with applications such as Airbuds allowing one to tap into a live feed of what others are listening to. This encourages conversations about musical tastes and by extension perhaps the exchange of music between people. Instagram, too, is used as a platform for musical discourse.
The first student I personally connected with at King's College London was in fact through a social media interaction, in which we established our mutual love for Elliott Smith. This has formed the basis of many relationships in my personal life and perhaps represents a general pattern in wider society. For example, the TikTok trend of vox-popping - asking people what song they are currently listening to - has promoted the sharing of music, exposing viewers to new artists and encouraging them to identify parts of themselves within others - ‘everyone has the possibility of meaningful musical experiences’ (Dr Valerie Reynolds, 2015).
Music not only transfers meaning - lyrically and emotionally - but through the interactions and experiences it underscores. This is also seen within the concert and gig scene, with communities and cultures forming as a result of having a common, emotional attachment to an artist, album or song. By establishing these commonalities one can also identify similar personality traits and like-minded worldviews.
This is more pronounced with niche and perhaps politically inclined artists, who are often associated with a more explicit set of prescribed values. It is clear that music is the foundation of our society and the individual relationships that constitute it. Overall, these examples demonstrate that music sets the foundational elements of society and that it is a tool for the most basic level of social interactions. ‘The truth is that life itself is music’ (Jazrat Inayat Khan, 2015). Music is interwoven in our day-to-day experiences.
Additionally, music is a way of reuniting us with our pasts, evoking nostalgia - whether this be on a personal level, or perhaps on a broader national or global one. It is my personal conviction that in the modern age, there is a distinct disconnect between prior and current generations but music can be utilised as a tool to transcend this rupture. One's tastes can be inherited. The music that we were played as children was integral to our upbringing and has - albeit often unconsciously - informed our tastes today.
This can also be seen on larger scales, within national communities and cultures. Perhaps we can see music as a form of oral history, a form of intangible memory that surpasses the need for physical monuments and testaments of time. This links to Pierre de Nora’s idea of ‘lieux de mémoire’ (Nora, 1989), a notion reflecting the importance of being surrounded by history and memory, instead of simply studying from the page.
Music may serve as a substitute for the material world, holding indispensable sentimental value. Music transports the listener through time and space, enabling an individual to immerse themselves within the emotional memory evoked by a given song. Folk music, for example, is a testament to the way that music and memory are interconnected. Whether exemplified through traditional Irish music, which is learnt by ear and not dependent on so-called musical literacy, to Inuit throat singing known as ‘katajjaq’ (Whitelaw, 2019).
Music is a customary practice and homage to their ancestry. Perhaps this links to Abraham Maslow's psychological theory believing that ‘music [is] one of the most common ways for people to have peak experiences’ (Reynolds, 2015). We can progress to a higher level of understanding our own cultural history, which in turn allows us to comprehend our place in the world today.
Furthermore, we can see music as a way to emulate and disseminate political ideas. Recently, we can identify this within the British political landscape, with the former UK Prime Minister’s speech calling for a general election, drowned out by a man with a speaker playing the 1996 Labour Party election campaign anthem,‘Things Can Only Get Better’. Whilst this might be seen as ‘a trivial moment…it [is] a sign of the way in which political and cultural capital are entwined’ (Street, 2003).
This is further evident in the Harris-Walz election campaign, which used key musical artists to mobilise and identify with the younger generation. ‘Kamala IS brat’, tweets Charli XCX (2024), representing a crossover from pop culture iconography with politics. This is used in itself as a seal of approval to younger generations to increase their interaction with politics. Music can be seen as a way to connect politics within the younger generation in particular. Perhaps music bridges the gap of political illiteracy - representing a language the youth speak and understand - opening up the world of democracy and making politics more accessible to the masses.
However, there is an inherent danger of trivialising politics. The ‘pop-culturification’ of politics can downplay these political systems which have very real and upsetting consequences as the last week has proven and we must balance the risks with the rewards.
Additionally, the use of music in a political sense isn’t just for mobilisation and connection, but for spreading a particular ideology. ‘Popular song has long been a device for making propaganda’ writes Street (2003). Political songs as propaganda are still prevalent in the contemporary world, a tribute to a long-standing legacy. From Billy Joel’s ‘We Didn’t Start the Fire’ to Bo Burnham’s ‘That Funny Feeling’, songs have historically been used to express one’s political views and to demonstrate support for an overall political agenda. Music can be used as a tool for encouraging solidarity in times of political turmoil, and as a source of emotional relief and communal solace.
Eva Lau-Johnston
Edited by Hannah Sugars