Paste Magazine asks: Is indie dead?
Well, what's in a word?
In terms of pure music knowledge, most of my peers outclass me. But what I feel gives me my meaningful voice, what I'd wager most my fellow music geeks lack, is:
- An understanding that the meanings of words are always in flux.
- That nothing in music culture is as important to mass culture as its champions want to believe, if still immensely important the the very specific and very real lives those things touch.
- Neither of those things are bad; being bitter about the young kids / the state of music today, longing for the past, is misguided.
Those understandings are a big part of the foundation in the narrative my blog tries to propose.
That Paste article hits hard on the point that "indie" used to be a business model. I believe
all genres begin as business models; jazz distributed in jazz clubs, punk distributed on the London underground, arena rock distributed in... well, arenas. The medium
is the message and a genre is born when one method of distribution, usually specific to an up-and-coming subculture, spawns a family tree of bands for generations to come.
Green Day
is punk because the meaning of "punk" has evolved. The old punk lifestyle (distribution method), though long "dead", spawned a collection of musical tropes of which, for better or for worse, a corporate band like Green Day is descendant (Descendents?) from. Sorry, Steve Jones. White suburban rappers, though having no connection to the old hip-hop world, make music descendant from those tropes. Sorry, Arsenio.
"Indie" will never be a meaningless term, it will never mean "nothing". A person who proclaims it as such is expressing exasperation that the word no longer holds the meaning they once cherished. Sorry, the word changed while you were out.
"Indie" was always consumerist. The value in "indie" was its rare commodity. Look folks, this is the same for your precious vinyl records. You love the experience of digging in crates, talking to the store manager, and finding that very special record because the all-encompassing experience is a rare commodity. I preach the abandonment of vinyl (and brick and mortar stores) in large part because I think it's a great way to combat our materialistic natures. (Realistically, the damaged ears of music geeks can't hear the discrepencies in a digital file sampled at a high rate. It's all placebo effect.)
The same is true with clothing styles that come with music subculture. Consumers treasure the rarity of a vintage hat or rare internet tshirt print.
The information networks we use have democratized music. It is
not depressing that no one will ever again be as big as Prince or U2. Those are great acts, but they were products of a different era; we need to embrace our own time. Nobody is lamenting the passing of those good ol' days where everyone who drove a car drove a Ford Model T. (Well, maybe the Ford board of directors is wishing for those days.) I know that's a tough pill to swallow for the older sect, but it's mostly tough because it reminds us that the world moves on. It does for everyone. Nostolgia is death.
But I digress.
No, "indie" isn't dead. Indie has just become a genre. And I'd like us to make a distinction between the "indie" of Belle and Sebastian or Vampire Weekend and the "indie rock" of Pavement or Superchunk, thank you very much.
As a side note, the "badge of honor" of being "true punk" or "true indie" is silly. It's a distraction from the real, meaningful questions: Is the music good? Is the music truthful? (From the heart, inspired by experience, informed by a viewpoint; authenticty.) Do people like it? Does it improve their lives? Does it inspire them to be greater?
Whether the music comes from a bedroom or a boardroom does not singularly determine the answers to those questions.
No, indie isn't dead. But what's next?
