I'm going to drag up a dead horse that's already been scavenged a million times before; it's the big fish that the old man brought back to the village that became $2.99 lunch deals at Captain D's.
Anyhow, here it is: our culture is increasingly video-oriented and attuned to the subtleties of dynamic media. That's amazing in a lot of respects: we look at old movies and we're frequently stunned by their simplicity--which might be iconic and sublime or it may be banal and clicheed. *Our* modern movies are masterful lessons in snap-transitions and surprising seques. They are plotted and edited with the fine-toothed combs of innumerable pros. Our 'crap' mainstream music is constructed by hordes of producers and marketers and is preconceived to within an inch of its life. Our *underground* bands who proudly wave the standard of 'Not Selling Out' on their Facebook pages while they look for a major label contract typically do a stupendous job of making musically compelling pieces. The Indieground is probably the best generation of musical innovators that we've ever seen.
But I am convinced that the demise of print culture has meant the collapse of the art of song-writing. There are rare and important exceptions, but you can look at the best 'pop' lyrics of the last seventy years and find powerful, enduring, crafted poetry. Too much of the new avant-garde now seems to subscribe to the old Michael Stipe school of saying a buncha things that are kinda like blank verse with a lot of strong images and really important things that people (who come to your concerts) oughta care about. There are important exceptions but most of the best new musicians now could not write a real song--or for that matter explain what their own songs really mean without starting with, "Well, it's kinda like. . . ." or "Man, I was completely thinking about. . . ."
I notice this blindspot in Stereophile all the time. Those old guys try their wee hearts out to keep hip and current. I'm humbled perpetually by their knowledge of music science and musicianship; a lot of them are serious musicians, and I can't barely hoot something out on a C# harmonica. But for guys who go on about musical artistry and the enduring significance of great classical music, which I confess often flies over my head, most of them don't know a damn about poetry or the art of creating lines and stanzas. Great poems and the best songs may argue one thing or many things, but you can be explicit in claiming what they mean. You don't have to say, "I think it's about" or "It kinda reminds me of." That's why I can sometimes be glad that Green Day is still doing songs with Punk politics, but I can doubt that they even entirely understand what they're Oyy!ing about. I must say, in terms of poetic, lyrical music that goes to the trouble of articulating its actual, definitive meaning, rap remains at the forefront. It's a pity that so much (though certainly not all) that rap says is so empty and superficial.