ABSTRACT
There is little doubt that one of the appeals of R&B in the early 1950s was its sometimes coarse and earthy depiction of sexuality, often approached through cleverly deployed slang. While young fans may have flocked to these songs, many detractors within the industry saw R&B “leer-ics” as a dangerous and intrusive presence. Variety’s ominously titled “A Warning to the Music Business,” issued under the name of editor-in-chief Abel Green, asks that the music business claim a self-policing responsibility for its products. The editorial is purposefully vague, mentioning neither any specific songs nor artists, nor even R&B itself. But for any reader who had been following other articles and letters within the magazine’s pages, it was clear that the perceived threat extended to renegade disc jockeys, payola, the influence of BMI, and, tacitly, R&B’s obvious racial dimension. Variety’s “Warning” proved to be wildly influential, as wire services picked up the editorial, turning it into a national news item. It was followed by two further Variety editorials that helped set the stage for the controversies that would accompany rock ’n’ roll’s explosion the following year in 1956.1
Music “leer-ics” are touching new lows and if the fast-buck songsmiths and musicmakers are incapable of social responsibility and self-restraint then regulation-policing, if you will-will have to come from more responsible sources. Meaning the phonograph record manufacturers and their network daddies. These companies have a longterm stake rather than a quick turn-around role. It won’t wash for them to echo the cheap cynicism of the songsmiths who justify their “leer-ic” garbage by declaring “that’s what the kids want” or “that’s the only thing that sells today.”
