Kozlowski: Cultural significance compensates Polka’s poor popularity

By Mark Kozlowski

OK, everybody now! Sing along if you know this one: “Strike up the music, the band has begun,… OK, everybody now! Sing along if you know this one: “Strike up the music, the band has begun, the Pennsylvania Polka!” Doesn’t that sound like an awful lot of fun?

All right, maybe it’s true that my mom tunes in to 1490 AM , WPNA, Oak Park-Chicago, every week in time for the polka shows. That’s when I leave the room. Despite that, I don’t mind polka music (If that isn’t a tepid endorsement, I don’t know what is).

Nevertheless, it is distressing to know that the National Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences has decided to discontinue the Grammy Award for Best Polka Album. The official reason is that polka is not very popular and, therefore, not culturally relevant enough to deserve the exalted miniature phonograph each year.

On June 4, the Associated Press mentioned that the Academy sought to keep the awards “pertinent within the current musical landscape,” and polka no longer fit the bill. Now, I’m sure the Academy has received angry letters from polka die-hards of 80 years like Bernice Kowalski of Berwyn, Ill. And I, too, must object.

First, consider the wholesome values presented by polka music, especially compared to other forms of music that shall remain nameless. Suffice to say, sex, drugs and accordions don’t mix. Polka does not promote violence, disrespect toward women, substance abuse or — Polish jokes aside — irresponsible drinking. For this reason, during high school my mom allowed me to stay out as long as I wanted — provided I blared polka from the car radio after 11 p.m. Whatever else you say about it, polka is not edgy.

Second, polka represents a significant part of the population. It is the heritage of German, Czech and Polish descendants, as well as other immigrants. Granted, many polka songs these days are in English, and sojourns into the “mother tongue” can be hilarious lessons in bad accents for Polish-Americans. Then again, this accurately represents many second- and third-generation Americans of that particular descent — like, uh, me.

Contrary to its treatment by the Grammy committee, polka music is culturally relevant, even if it isn’t relevant to everybody in the country at the same time. As it is relevant to a significant portion of the population, it is an integral part of American polyglot culture.

Polka is also a form of music that is not easily incorporated into any other genre, which cuts off the argument that polka albums could simply compete in other categories. Traditional folk? Well, somebody’s folks listen to it. But when Peter, Paul and Mary release a polka album, I’ll not only buy that album but I’ll also buy the feasibility of polka as folk music.

There is precedent for the recognition of music genres that are culturally significant if not widely popular. On the street, one generally does not hear Beethoven booming out of car subwoofers, cool as this might sound. Similarly, country music is generally trashed and bluegrass ignored, yet the Academy still deems all three of these genres worthy of Grammy recognition.

Removing this award might make sense given current economic circumstances: No doubt there is a cost to retaining an award in a particular genre. Given that Jimmy Sturr has won 18 of the last 24 Grammys in polka, perhaps someone should investigate how effective his competition is, or whether there is simply no competition.

Indeed, this is a secondary argument used by the Academy. However, that notion is also a bit dishonest. Other polka bands exist and assuredly release albums. It is simply the opinion of Academy members who, while complaining that Sturr wins too often, give him the awards in the first place.

Ultimately, those who claim polka has no cultural significance need to get out of Los Angeles, into the Midwest and away from thinking Grammy-worthiness is directly related to album sales or hipness.

Roll out the barrel and e-mail Mark at [email protected]