#782 Over Closure

I’m a little worried about the future of rock and roll. I suppose its natural for any living, breathing, vital, artistic medium to take as its raw materials the language and sensibilities of its era.
For shizzle.
So I guess I’m not totally put off if a rock and roll song uses the term “posse” or even “peeps.” I would even expect an occasional shouted out “Word!” or “Dude!”
What I don’t like is whiny psychobabble.
Songs about heartache and heartbreak and even an occasional crossover heart achy-breaky are all red-blooded macho rock and roll pain¾the angst sharing we come to expect from rock and roll and not a group therapy, sensitivity training, encounter session.
Rock and roll is its own psychodrama, it doesn’t need a facilitator.
Psychobabble is not rock. Don’t expect to hear words like “transference” and “acting out” in a rock and roll song. Likewise words like co-dependency or passive-aggressive behavior.
But lately some songs have crossed the line between legitimate rock torment and psycho-interventiony whining. And not one but two different groups used the word.
The word was “closure.”
I’m sorry, the word “closure” does not belong in a rock and roll song.
“We’re over.” Not, “We’ve found closure.”
“I’ve moved on and put my life back together.” Not, “I’ve found closure and adjusted.”
The group Daughtry in the song “Over You” and the group Hinder in the song “Better than Me” both used the dread word. And the bad thing is, they’re ordinarily pretty rocking groups.
Time marches on, I guess. I first heard the word closure in an episode of the popular early 90s drama-dy “Sisters.” “Sisters” was kind of the pre-cursor to “Sex in the City.” Four females confronting life’s vicissitudes and reacting to them in often sexual ways. And often making relationship mistakes. One of them was always having trouble finding “closure” from her current previous relationship.
What we take for normal is what we grew up with. Hinder and Daughtry must have been children then. “Closure” was an ordinary word to the kids watching the emotionally self-involved TV of the early 90s.
Oh well, at least it shows rock and roll is alive.
I’d just much rather it scream than whimper.
America, ya gotta love it.