According to a press release that thunked into Crikey’s inbox, Rolling Stone AU/NZ has declared 2022 “Year Of The Wiggles”. The group that has carried on like Theseus’ ship for more than 30 years is the magazine’s cover star for September.
But wait! Wasn’t last year the year of the Wiggles, when they topped Triple J’s hottest 100 with their cover of Tame Impala’s “Elephant” (mashed up with their own “Fruit Salad”)? Whether we think the veneration of a band whose audience is less “Kids today, huh?” than actual literal infants is a bit of fun or a sign that on the whole we’re not dealing with adult reality all that well, it may point to a trend in music consumption that’s here to stay: the shift towards nostalgia.
Earlier this month it was revealed that despite platforming an act that has been around roughly as long as the Hottest 100 itself (“Oh, you like The Wiggles? Name 18 of their albums, you poser …”) Triple J was haemorrhaging its core demographic to other radio stations, including boomer opiate dispenser Smooth FM.
This reflects new data from the US that consumption of new music (defined in this case by anything released in the previous 18 months) had shrunk by 1.4% compared with the previous year. Music older than that went up 14%. Illustratively, one of the biggest songs of the year is Kate Bush’s 1985 masterpiece “Running Up That Hill” after its use in Stranger Things.
As music analyst Bob Lefsetz writes, the increasing atomisation of music consumption, the death of charts and radio as true arbiters of success, the internationalising of pop stardom (Bad Bunny, BTS et al) have many effects, good and bad, but it makes ubiquitous hits of the sort we used to see nigh on impossible:
There is no top 50. It’s an irrelevant metric. We no longer pool all music. Instead, there are various verticals. And it’s not about crossing over, nearly impossible, the verticals are ever more narrow and defined, but becoming as big as you can in the world you inhabit, which means you’re probably going to be less big than the hit acts of yore.
Which doesn’t mean you’ll be broke without an audience. There are so many more ways to monetise these days. And to know who your fans are and reach them. But worldwide dominance? Mostly a fairy tale.
Can you bear listening to the Wiggles (without using the kids or grandkids as an excuse)? Let us know your thoughts by writing to letters@crikey.com.au. Please include your full name to be considered for publication. We reserve the right to edit for length and clarity.
The golden age of live music which spawned the Angels, Oils, AccaDac & Chisel was when struggling new combos learned the craft, trekking from pub to pub through bleary nights in farty, unregisterable vans barely making petrol money from a cut of the door, relying on family for an occasional feed was killed stone dead by pokies.
King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard have released a stupid amount of records over the past 10 or so years and play sell-out shows around the world. To the best of my knowledge, radio support has been a negligible part of their success. They are an amazing live band and never play the same set twice.
Also, want to see great live music? Go to a local venue (especially if you’re lucky enough to be in Melbourne). Anyone who says there’s no good new live music around these days is, by definition, A Boring Old Fart.
As for The Wiggles – a highly successful business model but basically just red cordial pop music.
King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard have had a lot of support from triple J.
Exactly. If the only metric you measure new bands on is chart success then you aren’t listening and are willing to be spoon fed whatever the so called latest is.
There’s always loads of great music or there, especially in Melbourne, so,”Do Yourself a Favour” and get out to a local gig. And nowadays you can listen to it all before hand on Bandcamp, SoundCloud or YouTube.
In the space of 48 hours in April, both at Qudos Arena at Sydney Olympic Park, I went to a sold-out Midnight Oil concert and a sold-out Wiggles concert (originals plus all the new members). Both were superb, allowing me to relive my 20s and my kids’ formative years – with my kids.
But without a banner show like Countdown, so many good local bands just never get the crucial TV exposure that acts in the 70s and 80s got.
Yes, viewing and listening habits have fractured in the digital age, but it’s way harder to get noticed these days.
Something died with Triple J music roughly eleven years ago. The best way I could describe it is distinctiveness. Nothing seems to soar in quite the way it did prior to 2011. It seems to cut across all forms, from hip-hop to folk. Anyone else picking up on this?
Also its more mainstream. Doja Cat had five entries into the most recent Hottest 100.
Double Jay, the Station Built of Rock, became the acceptable face of pap consumerism with Kingsland taking over TripleJ.
It’s now had a hip replacement in its old age.
Perhaps you just got older?
I am a 67 year old life-long music nut. I have never got stuck in en era. I am still buying new music on vinyl (eg Ball Park Music: Weirder and Weirder). I like the dilution of the industry that tell you what is cool to like. What I have noticed is that I am totally unconnected from what popular culture dictate as massive stars: Kanye, Beyonce, TayTay etc etc. I think I agree that it has become impossible to replicate the sort of ubiquitous popularity of say the Beatles, Stones, U2, even Nirvana, Red Hot Chill Peppers, REM etc, Legacy has become essential to commercial longevity; the ability to draw people to your gigs. My sense? There is more good than bad out of this obvious fragmentation of publishing, power and notoriety.