Orland Evangelical Free Church | New York Times Readers and the Guitarist

Would you want to hear a 23-year-old Korean play Pachelbel’s Canon on his electric guitar? In his bedroom?

Plenty of people in the last eight months have. Jeong-Hyun Lim anonymously uploaded his video, “guitar”, to a music site called Mule giving his name as “funtwo”. Virginia Heffernan of the Times unveils his identity and writes, “If individual viewings were shipped records, ‘guitar’ would have gone gold almost instantly. Now, with nearly 7.35 million views . . . funtwo’s performance would be platinum many times over.”

Heffernan’s article from August 27^th, “Web Guitar Wizard Revealed At Last”, went on the Times most e-mailed list immediately and remained there Wednesday. Her piece gives a glimpse into the priorities of a fragmented culture.

Allow me a geezer moment.

When I was in high school in the late 1980s, there were maybe three or four pop music subcultures. At most. Top 40 dominated. Then there was metal and punk. Alternative rock was pretty much Pink Floyd. It was a straightforward world to navigate, and you had your choice of hair.

Being an evangelical didn’t mean you had to opt out of these styles. There were contemporary Christian equivalents, hair included. Evangelicals in those days launched the strategy they continue to use, that of aping what they called “the culture” in pursuit of relevance. We became “me too” Christians: “We’re not bizarre. We’re mainstream. We can have fun just like everybody else.”

I was but a pathetic onlooker to this scene, scratching out Pachelbel’s Canon on my violin.

Since my youth, the pop music scene has fragmented. You can no longer count the subcultures, and they’re all represented on the internet.

Funtwo dramatizes music audiences’ new priorities.

In the old monolithic scene, showmanship was crucial to a performer’s success. But as funtwo performed, Heffernan writes, “his mouth and jawline – to the extent they were visible – looked impassive, with none of the exaggerate grimaces of heavy metal guitar heroes.” His reticence gave the video “a gorgeous solemnity.” No sizzle here.

Audiences also expect different qualities in the music itself. In the past, audiences wanted “the primitive charm of gut-driven” guitar playing. But in the online guitar culture, the audience wants technical mastery, which funtwo displays. Viewers rave about his refinements, not his hormones: the harmonics, the speed and accuracy of his playing, the “power chords”. One summed it up: “Funtwo just pure ownz the world.”

Why do millions view funtwo? Heffernan notes the “educational imperative is a big part of the ‘Canon Rock’ phenomenon.” Guitarists upload their videos asking for blunt critique. Funtwo himself posted ‘guitar’ for no other reason: “Main purpose of my recording is to hear the other’s [sic] suggestions about my playing.” He agreed with criticism that his vibrato was “sloppy”. This subculture wants to improve musically, not just to be entertained.

The fragmented internet audience for music wants depth.

The enthusiasm of Times readers for this story shows two things. First, the fragmented subcultures of the internet can get bigger than the old monolithic pop scene without anyone necessarily realizing. Second, showmanship is out and substance is in.

The evangelical strategy of schtick, therefore – with its cloying, manipulative, degrading flattery of consumerism – is doomed. Let us now praise the Lord.