One area in which misandry, the dehumanization of the male sex, richly flourishes is the music business. I’ve been a musician since the age of 9 and most of my adult life has been spent playing and performing music in various capacities.
Somewhere in the early-to-mid 90’s when Nirvana put the final nail in the coffin of Rock n Roll, the business shifted to a watered down, effeminate, ghostlike version of its former self. Suddenly, female musicians were aggrandized as if they had never existed. With the onslaught of independent record labels popping up in the 90’s, more female singer-songwriters were given exposure not because they were talented or had anything to say, but simply because they were women and whining was “in.”
Scores of riot grrrl bands hop-scotched out of their father’s garages and onto the national scene. This was nothing new to the music business; women had been sharing the same pop culture success as their male counterparts for the last half of the 20th century. But at some point during the Clinton era, Liberalism became a new religion and mandatory goddess-worship swept the masses.
I live in Nashville, Tennessee, which was the last musical city/industry to not only succumb to the almighty Vagichrist, but to insist that She pillage and destroy with blazing abandon. I’ve found that irony is common in situations of opposition-replacement; when a new way is deemed better than the old, the new way takes over with relentless disregard for the viable system that had been in place for years prior. There have always been female pop stars, but female country stars usually took supporting roles prior to breaking out on their own. And like with feminism in politics, women in country music have crashed the party and replaced it with all of the unnecessary fringe and perfume common to every other mall-muff ministered social subterfuge.
“I don’t blame the starlets of the industry as much as I blame the men behind the scenes kissing feminist ass for the sake of selling records.”
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It is also no surprise that music historically steeped in chivalrous values (at least more so than its rock counterparts) would be anything less than parasitic to trendy anti-male rhetoric. I don’t blame the starlets of the industry as much as I blame the men behind the scenes kissing feminist ass for the sake of selling records. Most female country superstars are the product of feminist-minded male producers looking to mold icons for today’s market (read: today’s woman).
I’ve had the misfortune of working with, excuse me, for some of these backyard Barbies and they are no picnic. Working for a woman in the real world can be trying at the very least but working for a woman who is also a producer-touted “up and comer” in the music industry, is brain-bludgeoning. The only thing worse than a narcissistic male’s ego is a narcissistic female’s ego, especially when she is told she is needed and valued more than her male counterparts because women have for so long not been “heard.” The producers who spew these lines are so indoctrinated that for them it isn’t about scoring pussy nor having financial dominance over a woman; they truly believe the over-inflation of a woman’s worth is justifiable as female empowerment.
Worse than the producer-drawn drones, are the “singer-songwriter” womyn. As a fill-in player, I’ve played with all types of musicians and by far these are the ultimate ego-obsessed princesses. They are told that their “pain” and experiences of being women need to be voiced for the sake of educating. It was while working with these types that my eyes opened to the feminist money-racket and teary-eyed liberal do-gooder mentality that I’ve come to loathe and vehemently speak out against.
No more will I work in a band with any female member as I don’t wish for the unnecessary drama and stagnation they bring. Whiny, maladjusted male musicians are bad enough. No more will I watch a slit take credit for the men behind the scenes who write her material and carry her travel bags. No more will I be looked at as a feminist sympathizer because I am backing a “womyn in music.” No more will I counsel, hold the hand of or wipe the tears of a “strong woman” who can’t hack being in a band, let alone front it.
No more will I tune up just to play “hersong.”
