The Show: Wednesday, July 11, 2002
A D V E R T I S E M E N T
A D V E R T I S E M E N T
Bronco Bowl

By Adam Woodyard

So I’m reading Moby’s web site — because that’s what hard-as-nails music journalists do — and apparently someone has leaked Moby’s personal e-mail to the public.

“Why do u make music?” a writer asks. “Do people actually listen to u? Man, y don’t u do us all a favor & kill yourself.”

Now there is an 8-year-old who reads way too much Entertainment Weekly. Unlike Eminem and Nickelback and nearly every other artist spoon-fed to you by MTV or Fort Worth-Dallas’ oligarchic commercial radio stations, Richard Melville Hall (a.k.a. Moby) is worth your time. The lyrics are simple yet never simplistic, minimalistic even; the emphasis in Moby’s music is on tone, mood, Music. Who gives a crap if some punk rocker got ditched by a girl or some white rapper developed an American Airlines Center-sized persecution complex? You don’t need lyrics to tell you how to feel.

The fact that any 8-year-old (or music critic) would think Moby is presently anything less than the single most influential artist in his field speaks awfully of our current state-of-the-pop culture. This is an artist who sold the music rights of every track on 1999’s Play because he felt that if selling some “crass” product was going to get the music out there and into people’s ears, then it was worth it. Here’s a man whose business savvy made you angry and whose music sold you cars (even though you probably didn’t know it was the sound of Moby behind the adverts).

And while you might not be behind the wheel of a foreign sports car when you go see Moby perform this Sunday, you will nevertheless be moved.

Sun at the Bronco Bowl, 2600 Fort Worth Av, Dallas. $41.50. 888-597-7827.


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