Doo-wop, the genre that reminds us to be “romantics,” is Not Good
I fell in love with doo-wop the summer before I started college. I drove home from work (I was a camp counselor, we can joke about that another time) with the windows down, the saccharine sounds of Frankie Lymon, The Ronettes and Bobby Vee drifting into the wind. Once I arrived at Wesleyan, I met and was enabled by a gaggle of other musically inclined first-years who felt the same curious nostalgia for that sound. We were all pulled into the drama of it, all the boys crooning about the girls they’d like to go steady with, or the ones who broke their hearts, and the women who chirp about their friends or warble when they’ve been dumped by the aforementioned steadies. Left unexamined, it’s really rather cute. Upon further analysis, sexism and misogyny run rampant in the genre.
We, as consumers, must leave doo-wop in the past — where it belongs — in order to become a more equitable people. Let’s look at the history of the genre to better understand why we should, well, dump it.
Doo-wop peaked in popularity twice in the 20th century: the 1950s and the 1980s. Both decades represent a rise in economic and socio-political conservatism, coming down from radical changes in gender and racial dynamics in the decades prior.
The 50s were characterized among middle class white folks (doo-wop’s target audience) by the development of suburbs and “white flight.” The decade saw the rise of the second Red Scare and McCarthyism as a response, so within the chaos an emphasis on the “normal” emerged. Doo-wop and Motown rose in popularity concurrently in the 50s and into the 60s, each appealing to different racial groups — this was the heyday of “separate but equal,” as well. This reflects an overt longing for the “normal,” or rather, the conservative.
“I Wonder Why” by Dion and the Belmonts, released in 1959, tells the story of a boy (or a man, doo-wop likes to leave the lines blurred) who loves a girl but can’t trust her when they’re apart. The whining melody and cyclical harmonies support the sense of longing — sad, but still made for dancing, and crafted to stay popular. It seems tame; a far cry from some of the more vulgar misogyny present in today’s rap music. Still, the sting of sexism remains, wrapped in Cold War-era suspicion. Mistrust and fear of the unknown ring out loud and clear in “I Wonder Why,” and contrast the sentiments of 80s doo-wop, as presented in “In the Still of the Night” by The Five Satins. Despite its original recording in 1956, the track peaked in popularity in 1987, upon the release of Dirty Dancing, a classic romance that epitomized the centrality of whiteness (among other norms) in American interests and pop culture. The idea of holding tightly onto something, fearing you’ll lose it if you let go, reflects an alternate kind of conservatism, although equally interested in protecting (a person or a thing — clear objectification). These patterns make sense, as the 50s and the 80s are quite similar, politically.
The 1980s saw another widespread interest in a return to past “values.” Radical thought thrived in the 70s, in which time women, queer people, and people of color fought for their rights and the recognition of their existences, and a peanut-farming democrat was elected, and oil prices shot through the roof. All this tumult was reason enough for (white) America to elect Ronald Reagan, poster boy for Republicanism and idealized normalcy.
Doo-wop, with its predictable melodies, even rhythm, and overall palatability (by way of catchiness) illustrates the essence of these parallel decades. The way we romanticize the genre also mirrors the nostalgia for adolescence in 50s diners or the raucous cabin vacationing lifestyle featured in Dirty Dancing. They reflect a white, heteronormative, middle class tendency accepted as regular, accepted.
Of course, the issue was not so limited in scope. Not all doo-wop groups were white (many, in fact, were not). Motown had its own issues with sexism — as did soul, rock and roll, and a whole host of genres that followed — and it was still pretty popular among America’s white folk. Take, for instance, “I Want You Back” by the Jackson 5. Lines like “Every street you walk on/I leave tear stains on the ground/Following the girl/I didn’t even want around” prove an indifference, even an aversion to respecting women. The ambiguity of genre boundaries in this time and later, bleeding into soul and R&B and modern pop music, make the conversation more difficult — it proves the scope of the issue is at times too large to grasp completely.
In short, this sucks! The reality remains that doo-wop pretends to exist in a vacuum, and that’s just not the world in which we live. It’s high time we reject music that features brazen sexism, slightly more veiled racism, and all-encompassing normativity, in favor of work that sees the past for what it is and the future for what it can be. ❑
