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Music Review Born To Be Wild
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Steppenwolf

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Born To Be Wild Although we may not have been aware of it at the time, the late ‘60s marked a period when music was the dominant force of our culture, ahead of television, the movies, fashion, art, sports, literature, etc. This is a major reason why there is so much music from the ‘60s that retains its vital qualities. A song was often much more than a rhythm and a melody; it was a key to a new way of thinking. To varying degrees, all other aspects of our culture took their cues from popular music, giving it a momentary power that has not existed since. Even politics was forced to kowtow to the power of popular music. John Lennon; Bob Dylan; Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young; and others had developed political identities that rivaled their identities as performers, influencing young minds in ways that the established politicians never could. They were offering new solutions to old problems. Music held the key to an open-mindedness that, for awhile, made us think that we were really different. Because of this, almost every famous recording artist from the ‘60s was political in one sense or another, and that included Steppenwolf. “Born to Be Wild” was the theme song for the movie Easy Rider, which portrayed an alternative lifestyle-namely, that of two dropouts on motorcycles-and packaged it for the mass market. For the most part, though, the music propelled the movie and made it a willing vehicle for a new musical genre that would come to be known as heavy metal. The starting point was Steppenwolf’s “Born to Be Wild.”

They didn’t appear in the movie, but we could get a pretty good idea of what they looked like just by listening to the buzz-saw stomp of their hit song. Thoughts of tattoos, greasy hair, biker chicks, and no teeth came to mind, and I wasn’t too far off. Steppenwolf looked like the ultimate greaser-cum-garage hard rockers. Long, dark hair, mustaches, leather, and sunglasses provided an image that made me think of them as chain-toting, stogie-smoking, car-bashing fear-inducing bikers-the Hell’s Angels on holiday. The alternative they seemed to offer was as close to the total freedom of anarchy as could be imagined in 1968. What better way to flip the bird at the establishment than through a heavy-metal motorcycle anthem? What better band to do it than the axle-grease and motor-oil-drenched members of Steppenwolf?

To Mr. and Mrs. Middle-Class America, the underground alternative lifestyle was becoming a bit terrifying and more than a bit titillating. Television airbrushed the rough edges and came up with Room 222 and Rowan and Martin’s Laugh-In. Other parts of the media tried to soften the blow of cultural degradation that seemed to be impending, as well. Only music remained untarnished, mostly because it was one of the few forums left in which individuals could speak for themselves without answering to a series of committees and shareholders. It was still free, man. And profitable. Even the major labels, such as Columbia and RCA, were starting to grant some liberation to their artists. Steppenwolf encapsulated the freedom of riding a Harley, the freedom of speaking your mind, and the freedom of choosing your own damn lifestyle in a three-minute pop song. Not television, not literature, not even the movies could do that. In the late ‘60s, that’s just the way that it was.




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