Eve of deconstruction

Heady stuff for 10:30 in the morning, but the receptive crowd was jazzed as they dashed to soak up more. Historians, sociologists and ethno-musicologists rubbed tweedy elbows with denim-sleeved writers. With more than 100 speakers spread throughout three simultaneous sessions, it was a scramble to catch every provocative idea or insightful theory.

The "Women in Question" panel was a lively rally at Rock and Roll Grad School. Lee Ann Fullington from the University of Liverpool related her survey on the male preserve of record shops. Gayle Wald raved about Rosetta Tharpe, a 1940s blues guitarist who "played like a man." Professor/musician Lisa Louise Rhodes reassessed rock's sexual double standard with moderator and Austin Chronicle writer Margaret Moser, who unfurled tales drawn from her years as a groupie.

"There's a different approach at strictly academic conferences, which can feel like a sentencing," said Rhodes. "More than one or two slight attempts at levity are viewed as undercutting the seriousness of your work. At EMP, everyone seemed to be having such a good time."

Both the profane and the profound filled this music nerd-fest. Speakers addressed the erasure of blackness in indie rock, the theft of blackness by white songbirds, and the preservation of whiteness in "Celtic Confederate" tunes. Yet the head trip rarely felt like a lecture. Barnard College professor Donna Gaines, an intimate of the Ramones, who wrote "Misfit's Manifesto: The Spiritual Journey of a Rock & Roll Heart," quoted sociologist Emile Durkheim as well as late guitar legend Johnny Thunders.

Whether participants were waxing rhapsodic on Jeff Buckley, going dissonant on the White Stripes or, like novelist and musician Darcey Steinke, offering a lyrical ode to Elvis, the proceedings often felt like George Sand lying under Chopin's piano for a visceral listening experience.

It wasn't all weighty. A rousing lunchtime concert by Jon Langford of the Mekons offered pithy three-chord songs and witty anecdotal commentary on his "Sorry Life in the Punk Rock Trenches."

The "Ego Trip" round table was another crowd pleaser, struggling to answer various hip-hop-related questions, including "Who's the next Tupac?" The collective of writers of color who self-published "Ego Trip's Book of Rap Lists" offered such zingers as "Wu-Tang Clan is the Kiss of rap," and led a singalong to Missy Elliot, advising the audience to replace "nigga" with "ninja."

Academics, of course, aren't hampered by such journalistic considerations as word count and deadline. "Writers have to know how to swing a sentence, how to make (occasionally) complex ideas seem simple and/or sexy," notes Pat Blashill, a freelancer for Wired and Rolling Stone who presented "Darth Vader Was a Black Man" (on the topic of techno "Afronauts"). "Academics, on the other hand, don't have to squeeze ideas into a small space next to photos of J.Lo in the shower."

Blashill says he welcomes the breadth of exploration and the opportunity to grapple with larger questions. "The conference forced writers to step up to the plate and deliver bona fide ideas, and forced assistant professors to drop the $20 words." To communicate and entertain. Arguably, if the conference's "Discoteria" panel had happened under the twirling lights of EMP's "A Decade of Saturday Nights" exhibit, next to Labelle costumes and Studio 54's moon and spoon, it might have packed more punch.

One of the final panels provided a delicious sendup of academic papers by addressing "sludge," those ubiquitous, crass formal devices found in every clichéd piano intro and guitar lick, across almost every pop genre. "The E String Scrape" featured examples from Bon Jovi, Michael Bolton and REO Speedwagon. "The Cowbell as Party-Down Signifier" cited a slew of examples, including Nazareth and Blue Oyster Cult -- each excerpt drawing louder and cheaper laughs.

British professor John Street, who presented "Pop Star as Politician," reflected on the big picture: "These conferences serve to, 1) make one feel inadequate, and 2) revive enthusiasm. This worked brilliantly on both counts."

Despite the overwhelming blur, those gathered were stoked and insatiable for discourse at the reception. "It's as much about building a new kind of community, as presenting ideas," says Weisbard. "Almost every person had a different experience, which is true to the spirit of popular music."

He's editing a volume of conference papers for Harvard University Press to publish next year. "People care when writing is good, when thoughts are new, when culture has some zing to it," Weisbard says. "All we can try to do is make something interesting and let the sparks fly."

Lisa Louise Rhodes admits that being a pop fan can make her feel like an outcast in the academic world. "But at EMP, among so many bright people who think pop music matters," she says, "it felt like coming home."

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