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by James Britt.
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Today’s Arizona Republic has yet another insufferable article on the so-called Baby Boomers. The moniker is amusing; it’s pure market-speak, astrology for unimaginative wannabe sociologists.
The big topic lately is the 40th anniversary of the release of the album Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. Now, I like the album (though, at the time of its release, it meant zilch to me; I was more amused by my older sibling’s discussions of their pop icons. My “Sgt. Pepper experience” was Here Come the Warm Jets). However, the incessant buzz about it, and endless tales of its legendary influence, are tiresome. It’s all you hear about, though, because, really, when people talk of “Boomer Culture” they really mean Summer of Love , Woodstock, & self-absorbed faux-hippy popsters.
What I’ve not seen, in the Republic or elsewhere, is any mention of another anniversary: March, 1967, saw the release of the The Velvet Underground and Nico .
Perhaps no one talks about it because it sold a mere fraction of copies as Sgt. Pepper (and because it does not fit into the popular misconceptions of what was happening in the ‘60s). But while critics may rave about the Sgt. Pepper (and, really, it’s a remarkable work), the VU may have made the more significant record.
Why? Brian Eno nailed it when he observed that while the VU may have only sold a few thousand records, everyone who bought one went and started a band.