What Would Erik Satie Do?

I'm no Linkin Park fan. To me, they represent the aesthetic nadir of modern rock — all that shouting and rapping and whining, all so anally polished and digitally enhanced.

Still, I would like to thank Linkin Park for bitching about the price of gasoline, and this dreadful war. (See "Hands Held High," off their new album, Minutes to Midnight, which is selling so well it may keep the record industry alive for another three and a half minutes.) The price of gas is one thing Linkin Park and I can agree upon. (Oof. Agreeing with Linkin Park on anything — that's got to be some sign of the Apocalypse, right?)

Anyway, my feeling is that if a rock band is going to be all dopey and shouty and KROQ-y, then they may as well stand for something politically. Make themselves useful. It's good to think the biggest-selling rock album in quite a while has a couple tunes that are at least vaguely anti-Bush.

Apparently, George W. Bush is the other thing Linkin Park and I can agree upon. Who knew that such scary times could also be so unifying?

But really, I can't think of a more appropriate anthem for this moment in American history than Nirvana's "Rape Me." I just heard on the news that the price of gasoline is higher than it's ever been in history, even if you adjust for inflation — it's higher than it ever was during any gas "crisis" in the '70s or '80s. (Rape me, my friend!) Not coincidentally, last year Exxon Mobil reported the largest profit any American company has ever made — ever, in the history of companies. $39.5 billion. (Rape me, again!) That reminds me of a joke I once heard. You may have heard it too. It's the one they told us a couple years ago about how gas prices were so high because of the hurricanes. That was a good one. That was almost as good as "the end of major military operations in Iraq" in 2003. (Hate me. Do it again and again.)

I often wonder how it is that we all accept paying nearly four dollars for a gallon of gas — when we know those companies are ripping us off, ruining the environment and controlling our foreign policy. (Or, as Linkin you-know-what put it, "When you can't put gas in your tank/These fuckers are laughing their way to the bank.") What will the tipping point be for consumer revolt? Five dollars? Six? At what point do violated consumers say to corporations, "Your right to make a profit ends where my butt begins"?

And isn't it time for someone besides Richard Cheese (the ironical lounge guy) to cover "Rape Me"? Or, dare I ask, to write a new sing-along radio anthem to stylishly capture this dark moment? Is that really so much to ask?

This week, I am slightly depressed about pop culture — what with the canceling of Gilmore Girls (for more on that, go here), the lameness of Spider-Man 3, shlumpy music everywhere. (One of my better pop-cultural discoveries of late is a new type of Gummi Bear called Muddy Bears. They're covered with chocolate, and they're outstanding.) Keith Richards has been good for a laugh or two, God bless him. And yeah, Meat Loaf singing "Bat Out of Hell" on Dancing With the Stars was, clearly, an inspired moment. But Keef, Meat Loaf and the Muddy Bears can only do so much, people. We've got to step it up a notch.

Speaking of such things: I gotta say, American Idol kind of sucked this year. And I say that as a real fan of the show. I watched it faithfully this season, don't get me wrong, but felt none of that old thrill — that feeling I used to get knowing I was watching great television. I was as bored with it this year as the judges seemed to be (Simon especially).

At first I thought it was amusing how the judges praised the beat-boxing, Cure-singing Blake for being "contemporary" — when he was clearly as retro-1980s as a kid can get. Then I realized, that's what it means to be contemporary nowadays. You've got to be '80s to be "hip."

But the main problem for me this year was not the show itself — I thoroughly enjoyed the guest spots by Lulu, Peter Noone, J. Lo and Gwen Stefani. (Barry Gibb was deeply unsettling — especially the whistling dentures and slobbering over Jordin Sparks.) The trouble was all the music coming out by previous contestants. Fantasia had a couple okay tunes on her last album, but overall the albums piling up from American Idol people are proving to be consistently disposable, and usually crappy. Even the singles are lame. It never fails to amaze me how the handlers for these albums manage to screw them up.