The year was 2010. I was a freshman in college, sipping on some caffeine and in route to what would be my first arena rock show. Ever. The band was Arcade Fire, Canadian Indie-Rock darlings, on the road in support of their fantastic and critically-acclaimed record, "The Suburbs." I knew I loved the album- but what I didn't know was that this particular concert would change my life and imprint on my soul an ever-abiding love for live, raw Rock 'N' Roll forever. I also didn't know that in the coming years I would watch my beloved favorite genre fade almost entirely from the spotlight. So here I am asking myself- what in the name of Keith Richards happened?
A few weeks later, with my ears still ringing from AF's blistering energy-filled show, I tuned into 2010's Grammy Awards. To my surprise, "The Suburbs" won album of the year! It wasn't the quality of the competitors that caused my shock, as Arcade Fire's musical prowess pretty clearly towers over that of Katy Perry's and Lady Gaga's(or whoever is on their songwriting and production team). It was the fact that a band in the Indie-Rock atmosphere could even climb high enough in the sky to be seen on the world stage. The fact that they were even nominated was alarming.
But why was it such a strange occurrence for Arcade Fire's great music to be recognized? Let me explain. The 2000s were a time when musical fandom was polluted with what I call, "sellout cancel culture." You remember, right? A band was truly beloved only when their first couple records were still an underground conversation piece- buzzed about by the right people on the right drugs at the right club with the right tattoos. The band reached critical clout mass when beloved by the underground circles but virtually unknown everywhere else. But inevitably the word gets out and great bands become commercially successful(heaven forbid). There comes a time when you might hear the once cool band's name dropped at a dinner party. However, in the 2000s, as soon as the music started putting food on the table for the artists, the predictably disloyal fans would spit out the art they used to love faster than their mom's leftover casserole. They would then put on their favorite expensive outfit(usually designed to make them look homeless), and head to the record store on their fixie to find what would become their next largely undiscovered, back-pocket band. Should their old favorite artist get brought up at the hookah bar, they could stay safe by parroting out a few catch phrases: "Oh yeah their old stuff is the best," or "I liked the first record but everything else sucks," "I liked them before they were popular" or you could keep it short and sweet and just say, "They're sellouts." It was the hipster's favorite game: cancel the "sellouts." The sellout cancel culture became so pervasive it even permeated the echo-chamber we call music journalism. Everyone bought in. And it eventually murdered the Rock genre. Here are some examples:
Exhibit A)- The Strokes: The beloved garage rock band who ended the era of Sugar Ray and ushered in Y2k's White Stripes and similar acts. Their first two albums sensationally changed the tide for popular music and re-popularized modern Rock. They were the definition of hipster cool. For more info read this 2003 article by SPIN magazine, titled "The Rebirth of Cool". Things couldn't get any bigger for the band. But by the time the third album, "First Impressions of Earth" was released, they were too popular, and the hipster wolves were circling. Critics and fans went for the jugular. Everyone disavowed the band because(and I quote a pretentious music fan friend at the time), "the new album sounds like it was recorded on a major label." Never mind analyzing the songwriting or musicianship or performance. Even Strokes' lead singer Julian Casablancas said himself in an interview- "We lost our fuzzy, lo-fi charm. The hardcore fans left and it was all downhill from there." Despite writing and releasing 3 albums since then, the narrative of the bands so-called demise still continues to this day. Don't believe me? Just check out Anthony Fantano's Strokes career recap at the beginning of his review of one of their more recent albums. Garbage, I tell you.
I would argue the uncool opinion that some of the best Strokes songs appear in their later, post-sellout discography.
Exhibit B)- Interpol: New York post-punk superheroes accredited for shining the bright lights on and sparking the soaring popularity of Indie-Rock in the early 2000's. Like clockwork, the critics and fans loved "Turn on the Bright Lights" and "Antics." (The "old stuff") But when the third record was released on major label Capitol Records instead of Indie Label Matador, once again the sellouts weren't cool anymore. The fans couldn't see through their own underground-loving persona to realize that Interpol's "Our Love to Admire" was criminally underrated.
Check out video of Interpol's Sam Fogarino trying to ease fan's anxiety about the major label switch at the 2:03 mark of this video.
Exhibit C)- Kings of Leon: The Tennessee southern alt-rock family band that hit the big time. The band's first three albums were amazingly written, yet slightly underproduced- I.E. the perfect soundtrack for your unofficial lumbersexual waxed mustache club meetup. But 2008's Grammy-winning album, "Only By the Night" had super hits. "Sex on Fire" was covered by Beyonce and "Use Somebody" that was covered by Paramore. Good luck staying underground when Beyonce uses your song. Although the band has continued to make albums, their fanbase isn't what it used to be.
Listen to drummer Nathan Followill talk about hipster music culture at the 0:37 mark of this video.
My beloved Arcade Fire's career followed a similar arc, and now they are making dance-inspired albums with lyrics laced with cynicism. The two albums they've made after their genre departure have their merits, but I would assert they lack the same authenticity they had during the band's Indie-Rock prime. Now they feel like a band who is insecure about their own success looking for a renewed sense of comfort in relative anonymity. But can you blame them?
It might be hard to believe that this culture ever existed when in 2019 every 17-year-old would give a non-vital organ to be sponsored on Instagram by a supplement or swimsuit company. Being a "sellout" is cool now, but Rock 'N' Roll didn't survive the limelight long enough to see the cultural shift. Since the decay of the genre's popularity, every diehard Rock fan has presented a different hypothesis for its death, blaming everything from varying forms of disruptive technology to Ted Nugent's allegiance to Donald Trump to Imagine Dragons and everything they have ever done.
But I think it's time the diehards take some responsibility. Let's be honest with ourselves; if anyone is to blame for the death of the genre it's us, the fans. After all, how can a genre survive if its fanbase disavows any act that gets successful enough to keep the movement alive?
Anyhow, that's my take. Who knows if Rock music will ever come back like I want it to, but I think there is something to be said for loving a genre despite its relevance. I still make guitar driven Rock music to this day. I love it, popular or not.
Check out my latest single by my band Idiot Kid here:
It's also available on Apple Music, Amazon, Tidal, and any other streaming service.
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