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We are what we hear

Amy Laverdure's touching letter about the 10th anniversary of her dad's death from cancer at the age of 50 opened up a ton of memories among the longtime staff at The Citizen.
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Del Laverdure

Amy Laverdure's touching letter about the 10th anniversary of her dad's death from cancer at the age of 50 opened up a ton of memories among the longtime staff at The Citizen.

Del Laverdure was known in Prince George as the publisher of The Citizen, a devoted Rotarian, a sports nut, a passionate supporter of minor baseball and he remains the best poker player this city has ever produced (a two-time qualifier to the World Series of Poker's annual main event).

Less well-known about Del was his love of show tunes in general and specifically the music of one Barry Manilow.

For some, the reaction to that revelation will be simply a confirmation of Del's excellent taste. For others, it will be further proof that no one is perfect and even smart people can have a tin ear.

Regardless, the music we listen to as individuals is part of our identity and particularly the identity we both consciously and unconsciously project to others. Everyone is well aware that they will be judged by others on the kinds of music they say they like and don't like.

As Steven Hyden writes in his hilarious book Your Favourite Band Is Killing Me: What Pop Music Rivalries Reveal About The Meaning Of Life, most people don't listen to music but rather use it to frame their experience, to form the soundtrack of their life.

As a result, there's not much middle ground when it comes to embracing or rejecting genres. The one thing hip-hop and country have in common is that there are many individuals happy to proclaim themselves as lovers or haters of those styles with equal passion.

Haters of country see themselves as urban and sophisticated and see country fans as backward rednecks. Country fans see themselves as down-to-earth and sincere and portray country haters as elite, pretentious snobs.

Rap haters profess to prefer real music and singing while pitying rap fans for their musical illiteracy. Rap lovers say they listen to modern music while rock and country followers are so old and out of touch.

There are internal squabbles among those groups that revolve around authenticity. New country is horrible compared to Johnny Cash. Classic rock rules and new rock is a waste of time. Politically motivated rap is fine but all those misogynistic violent street rhymes are vile. The distinction is fake, Hyden argues. There is nothing stopping anyone from liking Toby Keith and the Dixie Chicks, Nickelback and Metallica, Lil' Wayne and Jay-Z.

Or all of them.

Some artists, like Kendrick Lamar, can skillfully operate in multiple musical realities, sometimes even within the same song.

The 30-year-old Los Angeles rapper won the Pulitzer Prize for music this week, the first hip-hop artist to ever be so recognized, for his 2017 album DAMN.

He performed with Taylor Swift on her chart-topping pop hit Bad Blood from 2015 and he's featured with The Weeknd in the current smash Pray For Me from the Black Panther soundtrack (he might win an Oscar to go with his Pulitzer for that).

Within hip hop, Lamar also crosses boundaries. The highlights on DAMN are DNA, a politically-charged, eloquent and expletive-filled essay on race in America that fearlessly pushes rap's style boundaries, and Humble, a booty-shaking party number, anchored by a ridiculously catchy piano riff and a "I'm the man" rap.

The polarized reactions to his Pulitzer win were exactly as Hyden predicted within his book. Fans said it was long overdue and felt it validated their excellent taste while haters dismissed it as stupid, proudly proclaiming they had never heard of him or his music before, as if their ignorance was somehow smart and cool.

Meanwhile, the Pulitzer board used sterile, academic language to rationalize choosing Lamar, heralding DAMN as "a virtuosic song collection unified by its vernacular authenticity and rhythmic dynamism that offers affecting vignettes capturing the complexity of modern African-American life."

Is that what they really heard or were they projecting their personal and political beliefs onto the music?

Hyden says it's a seamless mingling of both. The Pulitzer committee didn't say they threw out their classical and jazz records to listen exclusively to Kendrick Lamar streaming on Spotify. They just said DAMN is an awesome and important piece of music by a talented artist in his prime.

That intellectual appreciation is not how Del felt about Manilow and big hits like Mandy and Copacabana.

He liked all sorts of music but Manilow just spoke to him at an emotional level and he wasn't afraid to admit it. He simply didn't care what people thought of him for being a Fanilow.

That kind of personal integrity, to follow the song in one's heart, wherever it may lead, as a musician or as a listener, is admirable.

Del may be gone but he's still setting a great example.

Even if Manilow really does suck.

-- Editor-in-chief Neil Godbout