BY SERA ULUSOY (MAN/IV) sera.ulusoy@ug.bilkent.edu.tr

“There is a crack in everything, that’s how the light gets in.” I have been reading quite a lot about Leonard Cohen recently—yes, as odd as it may sound, I have been reading about him, not listening to his songs. The above quote is one of his, or rather more precisely, is a part of the lyrics of “Anthem.” It is supposedly a reference to a Buddhist story, which is intended to remind us about the fact that there is at least some hope or good in any situation, regardless of how bad things may seem. Pretty wise and hopeful words from someone who is considered to be a pessimist, although he denies ever having been one—he states that he is merely realistic, and that might be misinterpreted as pessimism.

I do not know exactly why I’ve developed this sudden affinity for Mr. Cohen, but I do know that it doesn’t have much to do with his deeply soulful and gloomy voice—in fact it is his somewhat pessimistic voice that makes me not want to listen to his songs every now and then, though they have some of the most beautiful and meaningful lyrics. What I assume prompted me to read more of his interviews and do some research on his life must be an article that I came across while I was doing some research on who else has recorded his very famous “Dance Me to the End Love.” I am not going to go into further detail, as my intention is not to write about the “Godfather of Gloom” for this installment, but let me just say that his very interesting and complicated persona, which happens to be very much influenced by the teachings of both Judaism and Buddhism, is reflected in his songs’ lyrics. (Just a side note: I’ve done a fair amount of research on the topic, and it seems that many Jewish people seek to learn more about Buddhism, as this somehow ends up being the perfect collaboration of beliefs, with Buddhism being rather like the spiritual complement of Judaism.)

What I was originally planning to write about was music in general. Given that the awards season is approaching (though some music awards, including the likes of the EMAs and the AMAs, have already taken place), I felt compelled to write about music and its changes over time—not in detail, of course, as this is not my area of expertise, and would certainly take more than a page.

Now, I am aware of the fact that music is a very personal “thing”; hence I’d like to apologize in advance to those who may be offended by my remarks on some contemporary “artists,” such as Pitbull or the post-2010 Jennifer Lopez or Ariana Grande or Justin Bieber. Before I move on to discuss their status as artists and how much of what they do can actually be considered as proper and authentic music, I have to admit that I do listen to some songs generated by the above-mentioned artists and their like. It’s almost impossible not to hear one of their songs; whether it is at a bar or on the radio, you cannot avoid them altogether. And again, admittedly, it is sometimes even nice to hear these songs, since because of their “easy-breezy” nature, they bring this nonchalant attitude to anyone who listens to them.

My taste in music is very diverse; I listen to anyone from Sting and Chris Botti to Pink Martini and Dave Koz to Supertramp and Talking Heads to Billy Joel and Phil Collins to more contemporary artists like Bastille and Imagine Dragons, Stromae and even lovely Macklemore. I suppose because of this wide range I try not to judge people based on what they enjoy listening to. However, one thing that bothers me is the fact that people like Ariana Grande or Justin Bieber succeed in the music industry without having to pay much attention to what they sing about or the way they sing about what they sing about, i.e., the lyrics and composition of an entire song. Additionally, their success is not limited merely to best-selling albums or concert tickets that are sold out within a couple of hours; they also get rewarded simply for yelling the words “Baby, baby, baby, ooh”—yes, I am referring to Justin Bieber here. It’s not just that the songs have very little soul and less meaning; it’s also the fact that people tend to idolize the likes of him a little too much, while neglecting to appreciate musicians whose songs have true artistic value, or at least some meaning.

I am no expert on music, and hence cannot really judge whether Bieber’s or Pitbull’s work has artistic value, but it is not hard to say that it has very little soul and meaning. And it’s not because I do not like their music—I do not like Beyonce either, but I have to admit that some people tend to find meaning in her songs and have a sense of fulfillment when they listen to them. What I am asking you to think about is how fair it is that a singer who releases a song like “Baby,” or one who calls himself “Mr. 305,” or a woman who releases a video that focuses on women’s “bottoms”—haven’t you seen Jennifer Lopez’s controversial “Booty” video yet?—gets this much appreciation and even admiration. Or rather, consider this: couldn’t you really have composed one of those songs yourself? Is it really right that members of this generation know more about Bieber’s love life than they do about the legendary Queen or Genesis or Pink Floyd?