Madonna. Prince. Michael Jackson. Bruce Springsteen.
In the ’80s, they defined pop music. In the ’90s, they could form their own dysfunctional-career support group.
All still sell records. All still claim wide industry respect. But with mounting evidence that the public is moving away from their brand of wide-angle mega-stardom, they’re starting to look like the last of a breed.
Somebody call 911: We got icons in trouble.
According to the trades, this is a good moment for established artists: “River of Dreams,” from stalwart Billy Joel, is one of the hottest records in the country. Meat Loaf’s comeback, a virtual remake of his 1977 “Bat Out of Hell,” is a smash. And a number of artists who made their mark in the ’80s, such as Sting and Duran Duran, are experiencing solid success.
Except for the huge guns. The larger-than-life artists who dominated the last decade are suffering unusual setbacks. Hounded by scandal, dogged by critics who complain of declining quality, vexed by creeping grunge-ism, confused even about what their name is-they’re still out there trying, but their efforts seem increasingly forced. The rules have changed, and these stars are scrambling to stay on top of the game.
“All of these people benefited from one incredible pop moment,” says Michael Pagnotta of Reach Media, who served as Prince’s publicist from 1989 until recently. “It was the song, the times, the look of the video, everything. Now, not all of the factors are converging. The fan base becomes less solid very quickly. The fans feel it.”
Consider:
– Madonna continues to riff through her repertoire of shocks even after her similarly themed coffee-table book, “Sex,” and album, “Erotica,” were sales disappointments. But onward Madonna forges, failing to heed that crucial stripper axiom: Once the audience has seen it all, there’s no reason to stick around.
– Springsteen watched as two albums he released on the same day last year-“Lucky Town” and “Human Touch,” projects on which he labored for more than two years-were trashed by the usually fawning music press. Even fans wondered about him during the extended tour that followed. Not only were Springsteen’s newly mature love songs dull, they betrayed the sense of possibility that coursed through Springsteen’s earlier work.
– Prince put out more records than his public could absorb in the early ’90s, and since the hieroglyphically titled last one, he’s issued a series of puzzling pronouncements about his band, his future modes of expression and his very identity.
– As for Jackson, those front-page allegations that he molested a 13-year-old visitor to his Neverland ranch-charges that still are under investigation by Los Angeles police-have given fans reason to suspect his philanthropic work with children and undone whatever PR was achieved by his chat with Oprah. The scandal certainly hasn’t done anything to boost sales of his most recent record, the unimaginative “Dangerous,” which finds the “King of Pop” mining his own catalog for inspiration.
Each of these stars is anxious, and vulnerable-those highly publicized superstar contracts tend to magnify creative shortcomings. They know that the inspiration that can lead to a “Purple Rain” is an elusive thing. But none seems ready to take a lesson from Michael Jordan, who said he was leaving basketball-at the peak of his powers-because the desire wasn’t there.
Fed by years of constant adulation, these pop icons insist they still matter. So they resolutely toil on, just like many less-venerated artists, looking for a way to get back into the good graces of the 12-year-olds with hefty allowances.
It’s that visible squirming that makes these icons look so awkward.
In the last few years, that big pie known as “pop music” has been chopped into tiny pieces, each defined by a specific musical style and demographic. There are hip-hop for preteens, hip-hop for the bubblegum-pop crowd, hip-hop for young lovers, gangsta rap for those in their late teens bent on proving themselves, alternative peace-espousing hip-hop for adults, etc.
No one-not even a huge seller such as Michael Jackson-can own, or even dominate, such a fragmented market. As yesterday’s icons watch young upstarts enter the Billboard charts at No. 1-thanks to more accurate sales reports provided by Soundscan-they must wonder about their own long-term viability. As one industry veteran observed: “Four years ago, Tom Petty was everywhere, the very future of rock ‘n’ roll. Now who’s waiting around for a Tom Petty record?”
In some ways, the icons can’t win for trying. “Every generation throws a hero up the pop charts,” Paul Simon said in 1986’s “Boy in the Bubble.” And the Lollapalooza generation can’t relate to this tenured bunch: Jackson, Prince, Madonna and Springsteen range from 35 to 44 years old.
John David Kolodner, senior vice president at Geffen Records, believes that “kids under 20 have made a conscious decision that they want a culture of their own. . . . Generation X is definitely mad at baby boomers, and all the excesses of the ’80s.”
Like junk bonds and leveraged buyouts, the icons are indelibly associated with their times. They’re showmen, grand-scale performers who satisfied the ’80s demand for escapist entertainment. Then, having won a worldwide audience for their reality-denying pop, they transformed do-goodism into a science. Live Aid. AIDS and homeless benefits. “We Are the World.”
Now, as publications from the New Republic to Spy re-evaluate those devil-may-care go-go years, these icons find themselves remembered more for their business acumen than their artistry.
Because so much was at stake each time these big-ticket artists released a record, everything they did was hyped. This led first to cynicism, then resentment, then a declaration from the rock audience that it was tired of being manipulated.
Ed Eckstine, president of Mercury Records, observed recently that, though superstar “megalomania” still exists, he senses a more “grounded” approach to marketing artists.
“We know that you can sell a bazillion copies if you’re willing to spend two bazillion to do it,” says Bob Chiappardi of Concrete Marketing, which specializes in the recording industry. “The trouble with that is next time, you have to be twice as big.
One label that has been particularly successful at reaching the post-icon audience is Matador, an independent affiliated with Atlantic Records. Among those on the Matador roster are Pavement, Yo La Tengo and Liz Phair.
Gerard Cosloy, president of the label, says the trick has been to build coalitions: “We don’t want to hit people over the head. You can’t classify our fans as being part of one generation or one socio-economic group. We just put out records by people we like. That’s it.”
It’s probably too late for Madonna to try the low-key approach. Once the runaway fave among teens, she took honors in a recent Us magazine reader’s poll for worst album, worst-dressed actress, worst singer, worst video, biggest ego and most overexposed celebrity. (She’ll get a little more exposure this week. HBO will air “Madonna: Live Down Under, The Girlie Show” at 9:15 p.m. Saturday night.)
Madonna appears to be taking it in stride. Backlash is part of the normal cycle of celebrity, she told “MTV News” recently: “It seems to me most women are only allowed to be famous for seven years. Then they’re supposed to go away and die from a drug overdose or have babies or do infomercials.”
But as Nirvana, Pearl Jam and others redefine fame, Madonna has got to be wondering what her next move should be. As Kolodner says, “The purchasing power of Generation X is redirecting who’s considered a big artist and who isn’t. . . . If you’re going to appeal to the whole marketplace, you have to have the proper image for that generation.”
Some believe solid songs and great presentation-the building blocks of the music industry-are all Madonna and the other flagging icons need.
Capitol Records president Gary Gersh, who signed Nirvana when he was with Geffen Records, points to Springsteen as an artist likely to survive the backlash. “When I saw his show this last time, I was blown away by the way he has aged in rock ‘n’ roll. (It seemed) impossible to age with your integrity intact-we hadn’t seen that in anyone that popular to date. He’s being who he is.”
But others say the restrictive playlists of radio and MTV mean that all bets are off. The closed-mindedness of radio is well-known. But MTV-once an outlet for a variety of music, including that of the icons-also has grown fickle. Among the hardest-hit by the cable outlet’s grunge-first policy: the icons.
For Jackson, Madonna, Springsteen and Prince, the problem isn’t just one of exposure or staying ahead of the backlash. It boils down to having the courage to evolve, and having faith that the audience will mature with them. Discarding the puffed-up strategies for success that were so effective in the ’80s will be difficult-downsizing, that ’90s buzzword, always is. But most in the business believe it’s absolutely essential for these artists to remain viable.
U2, another ’80s icon-level act, recently pulled off exactly that. After 1988’s “The Joshua Tree,” the Irish mega-group was the hottest act in rock. Then, bit by bit, the quartet discarded its stadium-sized pronouncements and righteous proclamations and began re-inventing itself as a subversive, noisy rock ‘n’ roll band eager to comment on media culture.
The results, 1991’s “Achtung Baby” and this year’s “Zooropa,” were acclaimed for their penetrating insights and stylistic departures. Not coincidentally, both have been massive hits.
Veteran publicist Paul Wasserman, who has advised the Rolling Stones and The Who, and who is now U2’s publicist, says he’s learned to expect these ebbs and flows in his clients’ careers.
“I was waiting for it to happen to Bruce Springsteen. I knew it would, but I thought it would come a few years before it did,” said Wasserman. “People are always looking for something new, and the media is always willing to oblige.
“I told the guys in U2 to be prepared: The media sits waiting to destroy. One of these days, someone is going to start saying they overrated your significance, and then, boom, the backlash begins.”
