Stop! Thief!
July 20th, 2010Over the last couple months, I’ve heard the new OK Go single approximately fifty thousand times. Not only have they played every talk show I watch, but it’s my favorite music video in a long time. Seriously, if you haven’t seen it, do yourself a favor by clicking that above link — it’s the cleverest thing I’ve seen in years.
Video amazement aside, I noticed that the bridge (“Let it go / This too shall pass”) sounds a great deal like the bridge to another of my favorite songs, Stars’ “Your Ex-Lover is Dead” (“Live through this / and you won’t look back.”) They aren’t similar enough to accuse OK Go of plagiarism. Even if they were, though, I wouldn’t do so. This got me thinking about the idea of plagiarism in art, and whether we should be taking it seriously.
Let’s go back to rock-n-roll’s most famous case of musical plagiarism. George Harrison, post-Beatles, wrote a song called “My Sweet Lord”. You’ve probably heard it. The problem is, the melody to “My Sweet Lord” sounds a lot like the melody to “He’s So Fine” by the Chiffons. A complicated, protracted lawsuit followed. Harrison admitted that he had heard “He’s So Fine” previously (it was a pretty popular song), but denied that he stole it, similarities be damned. In the end, he was found to have “subconsciously” plagiarized the Chiffons and had to surrender the majority of royalties.
The whole matter leaves me unsettled. I believe George’s insistence that he didn’t knowingly steal anything. But be it a coincidence or subconscious thievery, I still don’t think it’s enough to force George Harrison to surrender royalties. Music’s too fluid and subjective to pin down most cases of plagiarism, even when blatant.
It gets even more interesting when you bring in the artform of standup comedy. Recently, Marc Maron* had a few controversial guests on episodes of his podcast. He individually talked to Robin Williams, Carlos Mencia, and Dane Cook about lots of things, but mostly joke-stealing. All three have been accused of stealing jokes from other comics, and interestingly enough, I think they occupy three different spots on the thievery spectrum.
*Aside about Marc Maron: I don’t usually love his act, but he’s one of the more fascinating comedians because he seems to treat his appearances and podcasts more as therapy sessions for himself than as opportunities to entertain others. This results in occasional frustration and annoyance on my part, but it’s too much of a treat to hear every twisted neurosis in full detail. If you’re a comedy nerd or an armchair psychologist, give Marc Maron a listen.
My judgment from each gentleman’s appearance is as follows. Carlos Mencia is probably a thief, and by many accounts, has been something of an asshole over the years. Maron got ahold of several other comics who told stories about Mencia’s using other comics’ bits verbatim and denying it throughout. I don’t think everything he’s done is stolen, and I don’t think he’s guilty of every accusation hurled his way. However, most of his act is derivative, and a lot of his bits are way too close to the original to ignore, so he earns a “probably, and intentionally so” on the “did he steal?” spectrum.
Robin Williams has had the thief reputation longer than most comics in history. Many comedians won’t appear before him, and some clubs have been rumored to have a “Robin Williams signal”; in other words, a light would flash for comedians onstage to warn them that they shouldn’t try their new material because Robin just walked into the room. By most accounts, it sounds like Williams curbed material from other comics, but twisted it enough to avoid outright plagiarism in most cases. Williams defends himself in a way similar to George Harrison — he says he never knowingly stole anything; he’s just a sponge who doesn’t remember how he remembers things. He’ll enjoy someone else’s bit, think about it in his own way, and next thing he knows he has what he thought was his own original bit. Shady as this sounds, I’m inclined to believe him. It’s understandable that he could accidentally use others’ bits, and he earns points by saying that he doesn’t watch other comics anymore for fear that he’ll do it again. If you’re keeping score, then, Robin earns a “probably, but accidentally” on the spectrum.
Least blameworthy, in my opinion, is Dane Cook. Mind you, I’m not the sort to take Dane Cook’s side. I think he’s a high-energy, talented comic, but somewhere along the way, he embraced the brainless-douche part of his personality. This made him millions, but turned me off. I’m sure he’s okay with losing me as a fan. Regardless, there was a kerfuffle awhile back about Cook’s being accused of stealing, most notably from Louis CK. The bits were close, but I don’t think they were so close that you could say that Cook’s a thief. Alleged proof can be found on YouTube, so you can judge for yourself. The premises are stock enough and Cook’s and CK’s voices and jokes are different enough that I think it’s more likely that these bits were created independently of one another. (And to reiterate, it feels weird to take Dane Cook’s side, especially considering that Louis CK is probably my favorite comic right now.) So back to the spectrum, Dane Cook gets a “probably not”.
Where does all this put my level of anger? I think it’s somewhere between “tsk tsk” and “meh”. The fact is, all art is somehow derivative. The best artists are those who can use what’s established but still branch significantly outward. A unique sound, voice, or perspective is the most valuable asset, so naturally, its opposite should be reviled. What many are forgetting these days, though, is that uniqueness is really fucking hard. Even when you try to create something original, there’s a good chance that someone else did something similar. Sure, that makes you less of a genius, but most of the time, that hardly makes you a thief.
-Darrell