Pete Seeger, one of rock and folk's last and most powerful links to pre-World War II music and whose voice and lifelong fight for social causes influenced generations of musicians and continues to do so today—whether they know it or not—died on January 27. He was 94.
It is almost impossible to fully understand why Seeger's songs and voice shaped the direction of American music without knowledge of the socio-economic environment that existed before and after World War II. The stock market crash of 1929 and the bank failures of the early 1930s rapidly devastated much of the country, resulting in a 25% unemployment rate and leaving millions without steady income, medical care or access to federal and state assistance—much of which didn't exist yet. What's more, in rural areas of the country, electricity and running water were virtually non-existent or scarce, compounding an already desperate situation.
During the 1930s, the country's poverty level and overall discontent escalated. Labor strife between workers and manufacturers grew over salaries, benefits and conditions—causing a generation to view large employers as ruthless oppressors unwilling to protect workers from the perils of factory floors or provide them with basic care or financial support following workplace accidents or family illness.
Within a few short years in the '30s, the future grew dim for large numbers of Americans with little hope of an economic turnaround in sight. Throughout this period—from roughly 1932 to 1940—the sheer relentlessness of economic hardship left many Americans wondering whether their financial struggles were permanent and whether other forms of government—particularly Russia's—were more responsive to average workers than our own.
Russia was fast to capitalize on American uncertainty by supporting the expansion of the American Communist party here, particularly in urban areas. The rise of fascism in Europe and Asia only helped fortify the dreamy appeal of Communism—a system that seemed concerned first and foremost with the masses and intent on redistributing unfairly earned wealth. Of course, Stalin's crimes against the Russian population and Communism's suffocation of independent thought either were not fully known here or were willfully ignored for a range of reasons. The longer America's economy struggled to recover, the more ideal Russia seemed to many. Among those who tended to view Russia romantically in the 1930s and '40s were painters, sculptors, poets, writers, musicians and other artists—many of whom had fared poorly during the Depression themselves and were generally more sympathetic to those suffering injustice and hardship.
Eventually the Depression came to an end, but only with the start of World War II—when Washington pumped billions into the economy to manufacture weapons, planes, ships, supplies, ammunition, uniforms and materials of all types. Factories needed workers, and with 15 million soldiers out of the economy, the national labor force was smaller and wages tended to be higher as factories competed for workers.
Among those artists who felt a kinship with the downtrodden and helpless before and after World War II was Pete Seeger—who believed that the best way to champion the needs of the poor was through song. Seeger, like Alan Lomax, was a music journalist—wandering the country in search of hand-me-down songs and sharing them on the road. Though folk music had begun as home-spun songs for at-home sing-alongs, the music soon came to express the unfairness of exploitive employers, the struggles of average Americans and the beauty of cultural differences.
In the late 1940s, after serving in the Army, Seeger co-founded The Weavers, a vocal-harmony quartet that toured and recorded. The folk movement of the 1950s that the group inspired was largely a loft and theater experience and often hinged on a range of social causes. But with the rise of r&b and rock-and-roll in the late-'50s, thanks in part to the 45 rpm, independent radio and affordable phonographs, folk music played a less-influential role with younger audiences.
Throughout this period, Seeger remained on message—though his earlier performances at events sponsored by the Communist Party landed him in hot water with Congress when he refused to answer questions about his political beliefs and the political sympathies of friends and colleagues. Unlike many Hollywood writers and directors who stonewalled and wound up blacklisted, there was no effective way to do the same with musicians. By 1960 folk was clearly the music of an aging population scarred by the Depression and determined to re-litigate social battles fought years earlier.
Folk's dusty image began to change radically with the arrival and success of Bob Dylan in 1961 and 1962. Almost overnight, a wave of younger folk artists and harmony groups emerged as record companies sought to duplicate Dylan's youthful innocence, gripping poetic expression and visionary confidence. Seeger's and Woody Guthrie's push-back against powerful interests through story-telling music along with Dylan's updated observational and analytic approach was quickly taken up by artists like Peter, Paul and Mary, Joan Baez and many others in the years before the Beatles and the rise of pop-rock.
When folk and rock intersected in 1965 with Dylan's electric guitar performance at the Newport Folk Festival and the release of his monumental Like a Rolling Stone, folk became less about factory strikes and unionization and more about rebellion against conformity, social norms and the Vietnam War. Through Dylan, lyrics became vital to rock, which soon re-tooled folk's original mission and took on issues that mattered more to a new generation of young-adult listeners. Folk of the early '60s led to California's folk-rock of Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young in the late '60s and early '70s, the acoustic roots-revival of the Band and Creedence Clearwater Revival in the '70s, the exurban exasperation of Bruce Springsteen in the '80s and new artists and socially conscious hybrids in the 1990s, 2000s and 2010s.
Today, the honesty and integrity of Seeger's voice and his message can still be heard among musicians calling for social change or trying to raise funds for a range of causes. It's all but impossible to hear Seeger's voice now and not be moved by his convictions and passion. While you may not agree with his causes, there's no ignoring the soothing urgency of his voice. Seeger—with his flawless chops on banjo and guitar, his clarion voice, his sunny optimism and his ability to organize and inspire—set the tone for today's youth culture. In Seeger's voice, we hear the sound of youthful idealism and the drive to think and act differently. Thanks to Seeger and the folk tradition, the value of a song still depends on the message in its lyrics, the passion of the voice singing it and its ability to move people to think and feel. All of which Seeger understood before anyone else.
Here's Pete Seeger singing Michael Row the Boat Ashore in 1963...