Free Speech: Deja Viewing

Steve Kurtz from the February 1994 issue

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Soon enough, comic books were squeaky clean, but juveniles were more delinquent than ever. Rock and roll, with its suggestive lyrics, provocative performers, and, perhaps most important, its growing popularity, seemed as likely a culprit as anything else. A number of anti-rock movements flourished in the late '50s, including one fronted by Mitch Miller (of Sing-Along with Mitch fame), whose music was no longer in vogue. Never greatly successful in influencing the direction of pop music, the anti-rock mentality has still shown remarkable resilience.

An especially high-profile campaign began in the spring of 1985, when Tipper Gore realized her daughter was listening to a Prince song ("Darling Nikki") containing a reference to masturbation. Shocked by such racy lyrics, Gore got together with the also outraged (over Ma-donna's "Like a Virgin") Susan Baker--wife of then-Treasury Secretary James Baker--and some other friends to found the Parents' Music Resource Center. Soon the group included eight other senators' wives (B.A. Bentsen, Penny Durenberger, Teresa Heinz, Peatsy Hollings, Georgia Packwood, Jeanne H. Simon, Nancy Thurmond, and Rosemary D. Trible) as well as wives of representatives and prominent Washington businessmen. This was one grass-roots movement that started at the top.

The PMRC stuck to the tried-and-true formula favored by would-be censors. Anecdotal evidence was used extensively to document the grave danger posed by pop music. Susan Baker linked dangerous lyrics to dangerous behaviors, such as the case of the "young man who took his life while listening to the music of AC/DC." "He was not the first," she opined. (She also claimed that songs incited rape and unwanted pregnancies.) The group made striking, if weak, analogies: Giving people the entertainment they desire is like drug dealing; "harmful" music should be treat-ed like poison or pollution. Strained interpretation of the material at hand was common, while humor, irony, and even entertainment value went undetected. (As an indirect result of PMRC lobbying, for example, Frank Zappa's Jazz in Hell album, which was entirely instrumental, ended up with a "parental advisory" sticker.)

Armed with little sociological evidence but immense influence, the PMRC wrote to Stanley Gortikov, president of the Recording Industry Association of America, expressing their displeasure. Gortikov, fearing the group's powerful Washington connections, agreed to warning labels on releases with potentially offensive words. Encouraged rather than satisfied by this response, the group made new demands: They wanted all 25,000 songs released each year rated. They wanted "D/A" ratings for drugs and alcohol, "V" for violence, "O" for occult, and "X" for explicit lyrics. They wanted all lyrics printed on the outside of the music package, and they wanted all hidden messages and "backward masking" removed.

On September 19, 1985, the Senate Commerce Committee convened hearings on rock lyrics. It was a media circus, and almost every senator involved had a chance to express official disapproval. Sen. Albert Gore (D-Tenn.) questioned the motives of industry officials, asking what sort of "contribution they want[ed] to make to society" and wondered aloud if this was "the way they want to earn a living." Sen. Slade Gorton (R-Wash.) called Frank Zappa's testimony "boorish, incredibly and insensibly insulting" and said Zappa "could manage to give the First Amendment...a bad name."

Though Chairman John Danforth (R-Mo.) claimed there was "zero chance of legislation," the music industry could be forgiven for having doubts: Sen. Don Riegle (D-Mich.) warned the RIAA to rate records "before somebody else tries to do it for you," and Sen. James Exon (D-Neb.) noted he'd be interested in legislation "unless the industry cleans up its act." Sen. Paula Hawkins (R-Fla.) believed "no one has the right to poison our children with these lyrics," and the always entertaining Sen. Hollings stated the music in question was "outrageous filth." "We've got to do something about it," he said, adding that he had the "best constitutional minds" checking to see if it could be outlawed.

Directly after the hearings, Tipper Gore claimed, "We don't want to restrict artistic expression," but her cause was catnip to governmental censors. Soon, many states introduced legislation, often blatantly unconstitutional, to limit or label rock music. Although the laws didn't stick, their implications remain. Today, rack jobbers like Wal-Mart and Kmart re-fuse to sell albums with warning stickers or other music thought dubious. Many re-cord stores won't sell stickered albums to minors and won't openly display anything deemed too outrageous. Some chains, including Camelot, Harmony House, and Moby Disc, have simply decided not to sell music considered too hot to handle.

Whether quasi-governmental restrictions similar to the ones foisted on movies, comics, and records will be imposed on TV programming remains to be seen. Canada, seen by many as a worthy model for health-care reform, may also play an inspirational role in proposals to overhaul TV shows. The Canadian equivalent of the Federal Communications Commission, the Canadian Radio-Television and Telecommunications Commission, recently approved a "voluntary" production code put together by the Canadian Association of Broadcasters, a private industry group threatened with possible government censorship.

Among other things, the code limits the broadcasting of "violent" programming to between 9 p.m. and 6 a.m., restricts "violence based on race, national or ethnic origin, colour, religion, gender, sexual orientation, age or mental or physical disability," and decrees that, in children's programming, "violence shall only be portrayed when it is essential to the development of character and plot." (How the code will affect the broadcasting of programs and movies critical of, say, racially motivated violence is unclear.) The Washington Post reported that, "while compliance with the code is officially voluntary, the CRTC said it will make `compliance with the code a condition of license for all privately owned television stations and networks when renewing their licenses.'"

We've seen this drama before, the one in which government officials make a group an offer they can't refuse. But unlike quality programming, nothing is gained from a second viewing. The reformers claim they're on the side of morality while their opponents only care about money. They trot out the three Gs: Whatever they don't like is glorified, glamorized, and gratuitous. They're not extremists, they say; they merely represent a sensible balancing of interests. Above all, they will never, ever admit they're censors.