The year was 1970, the place was a dairy farm located in the rural town of Bethel, New York-– the festival was called Woodstock.

A man named Jimi Hendrix took the stage with a head full of acid in front of nearly half a million rain soaked concertgoers, ready to send the positive reverberations of his very own rendition of the Star Spangled Banner through the very souls of all those in attendance. For that, nearly half a million and all those who performed, Woodstock was far more than just a music festival– it was a message of the people, for the people, by the people.

The counter culture was notorious for it’s explosion of music, art and messages of peace. This was when music meant far more than just a paycheck– it represented its people and their voices.

I argue that music has lost its way in the abysmal depths of American materialistic, consumer based society. Long gone are the days of socially aware music; instead, we usher in redundant to ringtone rap and high school “booty shaking” music.

As a society we have waved farewell to the intellectual singer songwriters of music, such as Bob Dylan, Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix and the Beatles– to name a few. Instead, we are bombarded with conjurers of “music,” with their dollar sign sights set on the unaware popular culture. Little do they care what the music represents, so long as it puts a pretty million or two into their designer jeans and maybe a contract for their very own line of clothing. A collaboration of people with Ph.D.’s in music, a writer or two, a studio equipped with the latest in voice altering, sound recording, auto-tuning technology available and a 16-year-old girl to throw her voice over a beat and you got a couple million dollars. Perhaps if the so called “artist” laying down the tracks gains enough popularity in the popular culture, her manager can exploit her and the public even more, via clothing lines, backpacks or perfume.

The so-called music industry has lost touch with the people, and thus the people have lost their voice. However, instead of losing our voice by screaming for causes, it was taken from us. Taken by the pirates of today’s music industry and replaced with the voice of some 16-year-old girl singing about love or some guy with a synthesized voice ranting about all of the beautiful women in some club somewhere that I will never get into.

Give me Bob. Give me Janis. Give me Jimi. Give me a voice.