of this supposed counterculture stemsrnnot so mueli from 12 years of Reaganrnand Bush as it does from parents whorndidn’t loan out the car keys last weekend.rnSeveral years ago the music industryrndecided young fans should do its politicalrnbidding. As a result, record companiesrnbegan to fund organizations likernRock the Vote, which gets guitar heroesrnand video x’amps to encourage 18-to-24-rnyear-olds to vote. Proponents of thernmovement point to the declining numbersrnof voung people participating inrnelections and, in a bit of Jerry Brownstrnlc logic, suggest that “the system” isrnrigged to exclude them. If only morernyoung people visited the polls, they assume,rnoppressive censorship movementsrnwould halt. Rock the Vote showcasesrnthese sentiments in its literature andrnfrets over “the relentless attacks on freedomrnof speech and artistic expression.”rnBefore I had even passed through thernLollapalooza ticket gate, I encounteredrnevidence of such paranoia. I had borrowedrna friend’s ear for the day, and afterrnlocking it up and walking away, I decidedrnthat 1 had better jot down the licensernplate number in case of a problem. As Irnrecorded the information, a fellow withrnlong hair standing two ears away gavernme a dazed but suspicious look andrnasked his friend, “Do you think he’s arnnarc?”rnThere were not any nares at the festival,rnso far as I could tell. The aroma ofrncannabis floated everywhere. The goodsrnwere offered to me twice, unsolicited.rnDuring a song b the Jesus and MaryrnChain, a shirtless, heavily tattooed manrnfollowed by two kids no older than 16rnstumbled aimlessly through the crowdrnholding a quickly made placard that readrn”Will pa’ for acid.”rnAlthough the drug trade resembledrnan unrestrained free market, every otherrnform of commerce was controlled in arnway that blended the ingenuity of capitalismrnwith the inefficiency of socialism.rnTake the food ‘cndors. At a day-longrnevent, thev were obviously of great importance,rnespecially since the securityrnguards would not permit anybod to enterrnthe park with food. Once throughrnthe gates, big signs bearing the Pepsi logornsprang up everywhere: “AVOIDrnLONG LINES. BUY FOOD ANDrnDRINK TICKETS IN BULK NOW.”rnUnder this system, you stand in one linernto buy food tickets for a dollar apiece,rnand then xou stand in another line if yournwant hot dogs, still another for watermelonrnwedges, and yet another for Pepsi.rnThere is something ridiculously appropriaternabout this scheme, plotted byrnmillion-dollar musicians who combinedrnwith their business sponsors to endorsernat least implicitly the idea of governmentrnexpanding its influence into allrnspheres of life, save rock songs. Afterrnone irate woman’s daunting encounterrnwith this strangeness—no doubt thernclosest thing to bread lines that she hadrnever experienced—she got a clue, heldrnup a slice of Domino’s pizza, and declared,rn”This ain’t Lollapalooza! Thisrnis [expletive] corporate America takingrnover our minds!” Everyone ignored her.rnUnderneath the same tent as the foodrnwere the various radical political groupsrnso far removed from the mainstream asrnto render themselves harmless. Coneertgoersrnexamined their displays primarilyrnduring set changes and felt reallyrngood about themselves afterwards. “1rnvisited the booths to achieve consciousness,”rnnoted one woman.rnCollectibles were hot items under thernpolitical tent, and they promoted causesrnlike animal rights (sticker; “Liberaternlaboratory animals”), Indian reparationsrn(T-shirt: “500 Years of Genocide isrnEnough”), and communism (poster:rn”Phony communism is dead . . . Longrnlive real communism”). One buttonrnpleaded for “McGovern in ’92.” Voterrnregistration efforts, according to a workerrnat Rock the Vote’s table, were goingrnwonderfully. Everybody I spoke withrnwas either too young to vote or alreadyrnregistered.rnAttentions throughout the dav werernfocused mostly on the stage, where thernbands played and occasionally felt compelledrnto inform the audience that censorshiprnis bad. Soundgarden’s ChrisrnCornell was so moved by this oratoryrnthat he led his group through lee-T’srn”Cop Killer,” the ditty recently assailedrnfrom all corners and nearly responsiblernfor a boycott of Time-Warner products.rnCornell introduced the song by saying,rn”We don’t play this song because ofrnwhat it’s about, but for what it standsrnfor,” as if there were a difference. IcernCube, the show’s sole rapper, laterrnchimed in by remarking, “Records don’trnkill people, cops do. They shouldn’t banrn’Cop Killer,’ they should ban killerrncops!” Nobody mentioned that four ofrnthe seven Lollapalooza bands are signedrnto the Time-Warner family.rnI left the concert during a set by thernRed Hot Chili Peppers, the last band tornperform. Big plastic spring-water bottles,rnemptied of their contents, coveredrnmuch of the slippery ground—therernwere no recycling bins. After the Greensrnunder the tent had started packing up,rnthe only visible concern for any kindrnof environmentalism at all displayed itselfrnon another large Pepsi sign placedrnnear the park’s entrance: “EXPOSURErnI’O SOUND ENVIRONMENT MAYrnCAUSE HEARING IMPAREMENTrnJohn /. Miller is a reporter for thernNew Republic.rnRock MusicrnLives Onrnby Brian DoheityrnJust Keep Uncle Sam AwayrnCamillc Paglia, current official CourtrnEnemy of America’s East Coast intellectualrnmafia, reeentl}’ went on recordrnin the New York Times encouraging federalrnsupport of the allegedly endangeredrnAmerican art form of rock music. She isrncorrect in praising rock as one of Americanrnfolk art’s grand contributions tornworld culture. Rock is definitivelyrnAmerican, from its myths (Elvis the simplerncountry boy shakes the wodd, sproutingrnfrom a recording he made to pleasernhis momma) to its sound (a loving andrnchaotic meld of countr folk, citifiedrnblack rhythm ‘n’ blues, and the Tin PanrnAlley stylings of urban, mostly Jewish,rnimmigrants). Where she goes wrong isrnin attempting to subsume all value underrnthe political, and then, of course, thernfederal. It does not follow from rock’srnvalue that it deserves, needs, or wouldrnbenefit from federal arts funding. It is,rnin fact, rock’s unique status as an indigenousrnAmerican folk art that makes itrnimportant enough to protect from thernenervating tentacles of governmentrnfunding and from all the control, centralization,rnand elitism it implies.rnPaglia couches her praise for rock inrnterms that show she has little understandingrnof its wide aesthetic range (romanticismrnis all she sees with her hormone-rnaddled eyes; and while that’srncertainly a part of it, rock is perfectly ealANUARVrn1993/45rnrnrn