It’s not often I find myself in this position, but I’m not sure what the right thing to do is.
And while I’m not turning to the internet for the answer (I may as well ask my mechanic about Nordic salmon populations or a teetotaler whether I should have another beer), I am throwing this out there to talk it through. Because even if I WAS turning to the internet for answers there aren’t a ton out there. (OK I looked — so sue me. I’ll let you know what Ben thinks about the salmon next post.) And this is finally hitting me in a way I can’t avoid anymore, so need to figure out where I land.
The source of the uncertainty is what we’re supposed to do when artists you enjoy are accused of wrongdoing? (It actually slips and slides out from there — what about non-artists? What kind of wrongdoing? Does it matter how long ago? — but we’ll start there for now). I’ve grappled with this a little intellectually the past few years in the wake of the #MeToo reckoning, but never really in a meaningful way because it never hit me this close to home. I don’t think Woody Allen is funny, Charlie Rose always struck me as a bit of a blowhard (don’t get wifey started on this one), and Harvey Weinstein seems every bit the sleazy dirtbag he’s been accused of being. (Over 80 women have accused him thus far, which is as appalling and repellent as it sounds.)
It might’ve rattled the cage a little occasionally — I thought Louis CK was funny sometimes, liked Aziz Ansari back in the Parks and Rec days, and thought Kevin Spacey was a really good actor — but they were never top shelf entries in my perpetual lists of obsessions so it was easy to keep them at a distance. I felt terrible for the scores of women who’d been victimized and hoped that the perpetrators would face justice for what they’d done, but aside from that I felt somewhat detached from the proceedings — like news of a bombing in another country (or yet another shooting here). I didn’t know any of the victims and didn’t really understand what drove the perpetrators’ actions, so felt somewhat removed. Sure, I grew up loving Michael Jackson’s songs, but I’m not a kid anymore and am never going to say to wifey, “Hey, babes — let’s crack a bottle of carmenere and put Bad on while we cook.”
The closest it came was with Bill Cosby, whose show I grew up watching (like virtually everyone else in America, it seemed) and whose comedy records were favorites of my old man’s, so would listen to them routinely. I even read his books and saw his standup a couple times and always found them funny. But when the evidence brought against him became overwhelming and he was eventually convicted, I knew the right thing to do was walk away. “I am no longer a Bill Cosby fan.” Clear and definitive. It wasn’t easy — it’s still sort of painful to reconcile the person who seemed to be one thing and who gave you so much happiness growing up with the person found guilty of all these horrible things — but it was a little easier because he never once acknowledged or apologized for his wrongdoing and that’s fucking sad and gross.
Now, however, I’m confronted with the unavoidable — a top shelf entity I still actively love who’s been accused of horrible things, yet admits no wrong — and the path is not as clear. This time the accused are my beloved Orwells, who I’m sure the eight of you know are a huge favorite — if landing at #8 on the 2014 list or #1 on the 2017 one wasn’t enough of an indication, I’ve also seen them a dozen times (including one of the best nights of my recent history, the free hometown show that found me delirious in the pit) and play them all the time for people (including probably each of you several times over) to share the excellence. However, as I mentioned late last year three of the band’s members were accused of rape and sexual misconduct last August and the charges were damning enough that the band’s hometown show at the Metro was canceled, their label dropped them, and the band broke up. All within a week of the first allegations appearing online.
This was a blow — not only because I love the music so much, but because rape is not an accusation people throw out (or should respond to) lightly. It’s not like calling someone an idiot or saying you think a band/song sucks. This is serious fucking business and something you assume (or at least hope) people aren’t doing without merit. (Rest assured when I call you an idiot or say your band/song sucks, I will continue to provide evidence.) So when 60% of your band is suddenly facing those charges, that’s a real problem.
And yet I was still able to avoid really deciding what the right thing to do was after those revelations. I already owned all their music and could still listen to them as they came on (right?) — maybe not as readily as before because of the cloud hanging over them, but I wouldn’t have to grapple with the ethics of giving them money for a show or new album because that wouldn’t be happening — until now. That’s because I learned on Friday that the band quietly released a new album last month — self-recorded and -released because they still have no label — but one that’s available on iTunes and ready for purchase.
And thus the conundrum posed at the outset. What is the right thing to do here? Thus far, despite the terrible things they stand accused of, no charges have currently been brought against any of the band members. Is that an indication of guilt, though, or of the inadequacies of our legal system? The band members “emphatically deny the baseless allegations,” but is that an indication of innocence or of belligerence? And even if they are guilty of the charges, what’s the appropriate response — take away their livelihood (ie don’t buy their album, Bobby) or take away their existence (ie don’t listen to them or talk about them — essentially try to Eternal Sunshine them from your memory banks.)
If you look at the veeeeeeeeeeeeeery long list of people accused of these types of things, there’s no clear answer apparent to me. Outside the Cosbys of the world who admit no wrongdoing, but have been convicted for those crimes, where’s the line? Louis CK admitted he’d done the things he was accused of and apologized for his actions — so is it OK to like him again? (Or pay to see his standup or watch his shows?) Kevin Spacey denied the allegations in a weird video that seemed tone deaf and creepy — but then some of the charges against him were recently dropped, so does that mean it’s ok to let him back in? Casey Affleck settled with his two accusers out of court — was that an admission of guilt or a decision to pay money to allow yourself to move past the topic, and if it’s the latter is that ok? What’s the key component?
Is it the number of accusers? Is there some tally past which — charges and/or conviction or not — guilt becomes a foregone conclusion? Despite being an almost certain monster (you could ask 80 people in this country whether snow is white and not get this level of agreement), Harvey Weinstein still hasn’t been convicted of anything — so does that mean we should delay judgment? Charlie Rose has been accused by nearly 30 women, but still denies it — is that incontrovertible? Jeremy Piven’s count stands at 7 — is that still in the land of plausible deniability?
What about whether they’re convicted? R Kelly’s been charged and acquitted several times the past few decades — so does that mean the latest round is somehow invalidated? What if we’re beyond the statute of limitations for the alleged crimes? Michael Jackson’s been accused for a similarly prolonged span and also been acquitted once — does that mean the latest accusations are meritless? (Also, he’s dead, so does that change things?) What if you seemingly acknowledge some, but not all of the charges? Charlie Rose settled with three of his accusers — what does that mean for the remainder? Does the alleged crime matter most? Tom Brokaw was accused of unwanted advances and Jamie Foxx was accused of smacking a woman in the face with his penis — are those excusable offenses if true? And what if there never are charges at all? Most of the men on that list have never faced formal charges — does that mean there’s nothing left to answer for?
The last few examples take us to the aforementioned question of non-artists — does it matter more who the alleged perpetrator is? Senator Al Franken was accused of similar things to Brokaw and was forced to step down, but Brokaw still shows up on TV from time to time. Same for Morgan Freeman — he still makes movies. Are the rules different for politicians, but for actors and musicians it falls into the acceptable world of creative expression and “sex, drugs, and rock and roll?” (Not necessarily, as evidenced by Vice President Biden who’s a presidential frontrunner despite accusations of his unwanted advances, while our current one took no hit for his alleged affairs with porn stars and his pussy grabbing “locker room talk.”)
All of which takes us back to the Orwells — there’s accusations, but no charges and no admissions, and there’s two band members who stand accused of nothing at all. Is the right answer total elimination or only because three are accused and two aren’t — if the count was 3-2 the other way would it be different? Or if anyone is accused (and the allegations are true) it’s guilt by association and they all suffer the same consequences? What’s the right response?
As a kid I was taught you were judged by the company you keep, so if someone you’re friends with or otherwise associate with does something wrong, you’re going to bear the same consequences. I still remember getting grounded for my idiot friend stealing something when I was hanging out with him and thinking how unfair that was — I hadn’t even realized he’d taken anything — but it certainly was a powerful reminder to be aware of what folks around you are doing because you bear some culpability. That said, I was also taught to forgive and forget — to let things go, particularly if someone does something wrong and apologizes — so does that apply in these scenarios? Or only if they apologize, otherwise it’s smiting and excommunication? Or not even then because some crimes are inexcusable?
I honestly don’t know. Even after talking things through and spelunking on the intertubes I’m not sure what the right call is. I can see how paying for the album could be a red line to some because I’m rewarding them with green. Is it different if I only stream the album? Because I’ll admit, I listened to it at least five times yesterday. And even worse, despite it breaking Sunshine’s cardinal rule — literally from the opening notes — and inexplicably/inexcusably adding synths on a couple tracks, I still kinda like it (or at least better than half of it so far). Is streaming the album different than paying for it? Is money the key distinguisher? Or if neither is acceptable, what is the right amount of time to wait before it does become OK (if ever) — if there are never any charges pressed, is there some point where it’s safe to wade back in? Several of the aforementioned men have attempted to come back into the limelight, so should we be shunning some/all of them, as well as these guys, or only the ones that don’t demonstrate an appropriate level of penitence?
I’m still not sure. After all the back and forth I think I’m realizing the “right” answer is probably the universally despised one of “it depends.” I think each of the above factors and situations need to be considered and a thoughtful path of action taken as a result. If they do result in formal charges and convictions, then the path becomes clearer — but the ambiguity that fills the space short of that does not exonerate us from responsibility or reflection. What I’m sure of is that the allegations against each of these guys are serious and that as much uncertainty or unease as they (and I) may face in response is equaled if not vastly surpassed by that of the victims, so being cognizant of and sympathetic to that reality is important. After that, I think we’ve got to feel it out.
So in this case, I think I’m gonna stream for now — stream and wait, see what the band says around the release, see if that informs my opinion one way or another. (They’re definitely not shying away from the topic — they don’t address it head on, but several songs reference being made a villain or having “no apologies,” while the album’s cover almost blames the victims for their current state/lack of artwork.) Or maybe the comments of those in response to the release do. Either way, I’m going to keep searching for what the right path is on these things — because two years in the number of incidents may have (thankfully) slowed, but they haven’t gone away, so I think it’s a conversation we’re going to need to continue until consensus is achieved.
–BS