This Toothpaste for Dinner comic illustrates the undesirability of being the “old guy” in a scene. This belief is confirmed in Empire of Dirt‘s chapter on aging. Fonarow says that the indie subculture is a youth subculture needed as a “transitional” vehicle between childhood and adulthood (165).
I can see how this might apply with the British indie scene, which features music that is more energetic and youthful. However, I can’t help but notice the age difference between the British indie scene and Portland’s. In Portland, indie bands commonly play in ’21 and over’ clubs and venues. Within these venues, I find that most people there are in their mid and late 20s. About 20% of the crowd looks to be about over 30 years old. There are always one or two people who are visibily old (mid 40s).
Not only are the participants older, some people even bring their children to shows. When I saw Menomena at the Crystal Ballroom (as a part of Musicfest NW), there was a couple there who had their baby there sleeping in a front-side baby carrier. (I’m sure that was slightly illegal as it was hot, loud, and stuffy there). My point is that people feel like they are comfortable enough to bring their children there.
The indie subculture may seem like just another youth subculture, but I disagree. I think the subculture is more targeted towards the more mature adolescents rather teenagers and young adults. I also think that people are more willing to stay (even if partly) in the subculture as they make life decisions such as focusing on a career, getting married, and having children.
Nobody wants to be the old guy, and nobody has to.
Over the semester I have engaged myself in several great conversations about the indie subculture. But none is any greater than the 30-minute argument I had with my boyfriend on polished singing vs. improvised singing. We were listening to Thao with the Get Down Stay Down a few weeks after we saw them live.
He said he didn’t like her voice as much live, I said I liked it more. The difference is that when she sings live she tends to improvise more whereas on recording, her vocals are more polished. I think the exact words I used were, “She just seems more into it when live.” He asked me why would a polished voice mean that you are not as “into it”? Anyway, it turned into this huge discussion.
Looking back on the conversation though, it does make me wonder why I would think that. Reading over Fonarow’s chapter on authenticity (in Empire of Dirt), it helps put things more in perspective for me. She says that when artists take the stage at a show, they are aware that they must put on a performance. Therefore, what comes across as authenticity for viewers, are partly an intentional act by the artists. Which is funny because we, as viewers, evaluate authenticity by this sense of momentous, pure music– that we are witnessing something truly special, that the artists really feelwhat they are playing. Fonarow further claims that to realize that the act is put on ruins the fun for viewers (she uses the analogy of the wizard in the Wizard of Oz).
What I noticed most about what seems authentic in an indie performance is a sense of disconnect between the performers and the audience. As if the audience is peering into a truly personal musical moment. Performances in which the artists hardly address the audience are commonly found; in fact, people seem to appreciate it more. I remember seeing the band Walter Meego opening for Ra Ra Riot and thinking it was the strangest form of disconnect ever.
Walter Meego’s music is this very poppy, very sugary dance music with roaring guitar solos and thumping bass. The band did not say one word to the audience in between songs. The lead singer/keyboardist/guitarist of the band is able to play these satisfying, poppy melodies without tapping a foot or swaying his body. It was as if he was unaware of what he was doing at the time. The question I ask myself now, looking back on it, is whether I consider that authentic or not. I appreciated the music fully but a part of me did not feel moved by it. A few people danced, but for the most part there was a mild amount of body rocking. Is this what it feels like when the artist doesn’t put effort into putting on a performance? Is this a performance that is lacking authenticity.
Simply put, authenticity is found when the audience makes a personal connection with the music– it is when they believe that the artist is living and feeling his/her own music. While Thao’s improvised singing is not as musically harmonious/virtuous, I appreciated it more because I felt like she meant what she sang instead of worrying about hitting the notes. There was no wall between the viewer (me) and the performers.
One of the most fascinating articles that I read in my Sociology of Music Subcultures class is one by Dylan Clark, called “The Death and Life of Punk, the Last Subculture.”
The gist of the article is that the punk subculture has faked its own death. When punk first started, it was a subculture that truly lives up to the definiton of subculture, that is going against the hegemonic society. The punks strive to live an anti-commercialism, anti-establishment, and anti-government life. As the music and subculture becomes more widespread, however, punk becomes a part of a consumer society. Their music, style, symbols, and ethics were used and commodified for youth culture (226):
within six months the movement had been bought out. The capitalist counter-revolutionaries had killed with cash. Punk degenreated from being a force for change, to becoming just another elemnt in the grand media circus. Sold out, sanitized and strangled, punk had become just another social commodity, a burnt-out memory of how it might have been.
–Penny Rimbaud of Crass
Clark later concludes that punk faked its own death so that the commercialism of their subculture can die– so that they won’t become their own worst enemy. The last part of the article (Long Live Punk: New Ways of Being Subcultural) is one that applies to the indie subculture, and many others too. Clark suggests that the image and style of punk had died but the ideologies of punk have lived on. Clark’s new definition of punk is “a position from which to articulate an ideological position without accruing the film of mainstream attention” (232). The new punk is being aware of mainstream influences and commodification.
This awareness is present in many of today’s subcultures, including indie. Indie fans are often disappointed when they see their favorite bands hit the mainstream or see that their style is being taken and sold in the malls of America. Clark says (233):
Punks, in my work… don’t call themselves punks. Instead they obliquely refer to the scene in which they ‘hang out’. They deny that they have rules, and claim that they are socially and ideologically porous.
This idea is widely seen in the indie subculture. When I ask people what music they listen to, they don’t say ‘indie’ nor do they refer to the bands they listed as ‘indie.’ To state there is a specific ‘indie’ style is exposing the scene to mainstream exploitation. Indie is an extremely fluid and changable subculture so that it can protect itself from the mainstream, so that it can disassociate itself from what’s popular at any given time. It does not classify itself as a specific sound so that it can reshape and redefine its center to suit its ethos of pure, authentic, and original music.
(Even this blog can prove to be counter-productive in protecting the subculture)
Punk is still alive, in indie, in folk, in bluegrass, in heavy metal, and in any subculture that fights to protect their culture from going mainstream, from their truth being disrupted. In a consumer society, subcultures are fragile things, and like indie, they are mostly founded on the discourse of what is and what is not.
Something filled up
My heart with nothing
Someone told me not to cry
But now that I’m older
My heart’s colder
And I can see that it’s a lie
— The Arcade Fire
While the indie subculture is mostly formed on a local or regional level, a great deal happens virtually also. Web interfaces such as personal blogs, social network sites, media player sites (such as Pandora and the Hype Machine), and others (Pitchfork, Daytrotter, etc.) become tools of sharing between regions and countries. It is in this way that scene members can feel like they are a part of a bigger, more-enforced movement; they also see the difference of sounds and attitudes in other regions, which affirm their sense of belonging in their local scene.
La Blogotheque is one of my favorite “indie” site. I quoted that because the site itself (like many indie things do) does not outrightly classify the bands they feature as indie, but they do fall in that pattern. The English translation of what La Blogotheque do is called “Take Away Shows” which explains the premise more. Vincent Moon, the creative director, films bands as they perform their songs. The catch is that the bands perform in a non-stage setting. They are usually mobile– walking down city streets or through a bar, and usually utilize a lot of improvisation to recreate their sounds– drumming on bowling balls, shutting and opening a door.
This clip is my absolute favorite clip from La Blogotheque, and works as a great example for discussing authenticity in the indie subculture.
I mentioned in a previous post on a chapter of Empire of Dirt that I agree with with Wendy Fonarow’s claim that “authentic music” is the central concern for members of the indie subculture. Much of what members consider is indie is whether the band is authentic or not, and there’s a lot of factors that determine that. The single most important factor of authenticity though, is in a live performance. This clip is a great example of seeing how authenticity is portrayed virtually both by the performers and the format.
Traditional performances that are posted on the web can feel impersonal which makes it difficult for viewers to feel like they are seeing something authentic. The way that La Blogotheque presents the bands’ performances, however, helps create a more authentic feel.
As seen in the Arcade Fire clip, the film is made in two single continous shots (two because there are two songs) creating the effect of viewing real-time performances, as opposed to, say … music videos, where the clips are edited and pasted together. The camera also filters the colors so that the contrast of the people being filmed are more stark, creating a shadowy effect as if they are under stage lights (even though they are in an elevator, walking around, etc.). The camera works give viewers an intimate and up-close look at their favorite musicians and the shadowy colors create an ambience of emotional and artistic importance.
The La Blogotheque clips make amazing tools for bands to reach their audience, people such as their die-hard fans, people who have heard of their name, people who can’t make it to concerts, and people who want to access them whenever and wherever. I think La Blogotheque has even more importance in the scene because the clips are in themselves artistic, and people appreciate them for that.
The last point I would like to make with the example of La Blogotheque is that authenticity can be created. Aside from having authenticity in the music and performers, authenticity is also an aesthetic that can be created by, as seen here, camera shots, lighting, and spontaneity. I’m not saying that authenticity is therefore false; I’m just saying that authenticity can be increased or decreased by factors outside of the music, so they choose to do so.
I finished reading Empire of Dirt today and found it to be an informative and easy-to-read study on British indie music. As I mentioned before, however, there are many points of differences between the book and the Portland indie scene that I have observed within the last few years.
A main difference is Fonarow’s observation of what she calls the “Zones of Participation” meaning the different zones that occur within a venue during a gig. Fonarow’s zones look like this:
Wendy Fonarow's Zones of Participation
Zone 1 — The area directly in front of the stage contains active bodies, of usually younger members. Fonarow goes into great detail describing the types of activities such as dancing, moshing, and crowd surfing that occur within this zone. She says that these members show most excitement in seeing the performers and are not afraid to show their idolizing to others.
Zone 2 — The area behind Zone 1 is the middle section of venue. This zone is usually made up of older members of the subculture. People in this zone does not show their participation in the music with their body; they focus more on listening and using their mind to appreciate the music. People who have been in the scene for a while could get tired of being in Zone 1 and move back to Zone 2. Zone 2 people can also be people who have never heard of the band, or does not want to be seen as idolizing the band.
Zone 3 — Zone 3 is made up of industry people, people who are buying merchandise and drinks, and people who want a better place to converse and socialize. Industry people usually do not pay much attention to the music for numerous reasons. Reasons such as the fact that they get in for free, that they are socializing and networking, and that they have attended shows by the band before.
This is the Zones of Participation that I have noticed upon going to 2-3 shows at the Doug Fir this semester:
My view of Zones of Participation
As you can see, I have noticed only 2 zones of participation instead of 3. My overall observation of the Doug Fir shows is that a lot of people take more care in listening to the music rather dancing. Here is a breakdown:
Zone 1 — Just like Fonarow’s Zone 1, this zone is filled with people who are paying attention 100% to the performers on stage. A huge difference between the two, however, is that I have observed that there is not a lot of active bodies in my Zone 1. Crowd-surfing and moshing are absolutely out of the question at these shows, and dancing is very subtle (rocking bodies back and forth, swaying). I guess the important thing is not that there is a difference, but why there is a difference. Some possibilities of why:
Indie music has a different sound between England and Portland. Perhaps the music in the UK is more upbeat and has more punk influences in it.
The participants in the UK are younger. This venue is a ’21 and over’ venue which may result in older members.
Dancing at shows may be seen as being over-eager here.
Zone 2 — As you can see from the picture, Zone 2 takes place in many locations. It takes place in the chairs and tables along the sides of the walls, on the back half of the standing space, on the stairs, and around the bar. What I found is that the people who locate themselves in these spaces still participate in the live show though maybe not 100%. However, their bodies are still directed towards the stage and they are usually not rowdy or loud. People who locate themselves in these areas are more prone to socialize and mobilize during set changes. Therefore, one can conclude that people in Zone 1 are primarily there to come and see the band whereas people in Zone 2 may be interested in both seeing the band and socializing. As one person mentions to me, “People come to the Doug Fir to see and be seen.”
Overall, the main difference between Fonarow’s and my observation is that the crowds at shows in Portland seem more quaint in showing their participation through their bodies, they tend to rely more on listening and using their minds.
Over Thanksgiving Break I saw the band Menomena with my friend Matt. Menomena and 3 other bands (Tractor Operator, Eluvium, Laura Gibson/Dolorean) played for a cancer benefit at the Doug Fir. Other than the fact that they had live artists making art of the bands onstage to be auctioned off, it was like any other normal show.
After learning so much about authenticity in subcultures through class, I paid special attention to the things that make me feel that the performance was authentic.
For an example of what their live show is like, a taste:
I had seen Menomena live at the beginning of last September in a show they did for the Musicfest NW festival at the Crystal Ballroom. When I saw them at the Doug Fir last week, I felt an immense difference in experience– much of it because of the venue. At the Crystal Ballroom, their set felt impersonal and less energetic; maybe that is due to the size of the crowd (sold out) or the fact that I was on my tip toes looking from the back half of the room. There is something to be said though, on the difference that venues make in determining the quality of a performance.
At the Doug Fir, I experienced a better, more energetic, more authentic performance. I never realized that Menomena’s recorded music is a challenge to perform live until I see them try to recreate it on stage. Their songs are filled with technological effects and filtered sound and voices that can not be recreated fully in a performance, especially with only 3 people. I like that they try (instead of simplifying their music) and I like that they find other ways to recreate those sounds. They could bring in more equipments to copy their music verbatim, but they choose to use simpler methods– which make for a more organic, undistracting performance.
They certainly look like they care about performing their music. The two members on the left side of the stage often switch between two instruments to make sure that each part is accounted for, and the drum parts in their songs are just as important as the other two contrary to the belief that drums are just for “backing rhythm.” In fact, their performance reminds me a lot of what Jon Ragel of Boy Eats Drum Machine said about his choice in performing as a one-man-band, he said that he likes how people get to pay attention to each instrument as it comes in. In a way, that’s how I feel about a lot of Menomena’s performance. I never paid that much attention to their musical and vocal arrangements when I listen to their records, but when I saw them live, I saw the impact of each instrument and vocal part. I appreciate they they take turn for the most part, with only one or two instrument playing at a time and one person singing. When there are more instruments and vocal parts, the impact is more intense, and it gives you a feeling of unity and chemistry.
A lot of people say that energy is what makes a performance feel most authentic, and I would agree. But what I found out even more of from watching Menomena, is that there are different types of energy and some are more authentic than others. I feel that Menomena spent a great deal of energy in arranging their songs for their live shows and in performing them well. This is different than spending great energy in jumping up and down, or dressing up in suits, or screaming into the microphone. There is something beautiful and authentic about doing your best in the quality of your craft, and it’s something that is not only for seeing, but feeling.
This is a La Blogotheque version of the same song; you can see how the arrangement is changed to suit the setting. Plus, it’s just an awesome and funny video:
Today is check-up day in my Sociology of Music Subcultures class, which is the class that this project is for. At some point I panicked simply because everyone else in my class has a much more narrowed focus on their chosen subculture. I should have done in the first place, but it’s hard when you want to cover so much (because you love so much of it) and you don’t have the time.
So I chose to narrow down my project to be on the Portland indie subculture, which is something I should have done from the beginning. It only makes sense seeing how most of my field work is not only done in Portland, but is related more to Portland bands and Portlanders than any other place. Not to mention that I love the local music scene here.
This project is due in a couple of weeks, so you will be seeing an influx of posts. I hope you can handle it!
I found a helpful and interesting article by David Bryne (of the Talking Heads) on the recoring industry and the types of deals that happen between the label and the artist. You can find it directly here.
David Bryne writes this article (for Wired magazine) from the perspective of having been through many different labels and released albums under different types of record deals, so he sheds some light on which deal is better for what type of artist. A helpful diagram of the 6 distribution models he talks about:
You can see how different deals equal different amounts of control over the artist’s own music. Generally the deals in the pink spectrum are given out by major record labels. The labels own most of the licensing in the artist’s work which gives them more control over profit. Bryne said that deals like this are more advantageous for artists who need creative (recording) and financial (distribution and promotion) help.
As the deals become closer to the middle, they give more and more control to the artist, both creatively and in the artist’s ownership of the master mix of their work. Bryne said that a license deal may give the label the right to use the artist’s work for television ads, promos, etc. for a limited amount of time. This is the deal that the Arcade Fire uses in partnership with Merge records. The profit sharing deal lets the artist share the profit from day one, as opposed to the license deal’s delayed profit. The manufacturing and distribution deal gives even more control to the artist; in this deal, the label is only responsible for the manufacturing and distribution of the albums. Lastly, the self-distribution deal is where the artist does all aspects of putting out an album by him/herself– the total ultimate DIY.
The down side to being on deals where the artist has more control is that the labels may spend less effort on promoting the album. I feel like this would happen depending on the label itself–on what the label is mostly interested in. I used to think that labels are black and white– that major labels are for profit and small labels are for the music. As I progressively get more and more experience with the industry and talking to musicians, I realize that there are many different values that a label can stand for. Values like financial profit (obvious), establishing a good relationship with artists, putting out good music (sometimes specific type of music), maintaining an aesthetic, maintaining certain ethos (feminist, non-commercialism, etc.)
Major labels spend more which means less profit for artist
From David Bryne’s article, I can see how being on an independent or smaller label can be more advantageous for an artist who seeks creative freedom in their career. I only say that because there are artists who seek other things in their career. Not only do they get more control, they get to keep more money off the music they are selling. The major differences between major labels and independent labels go far beyond just preference over artistic freedom. Being on one or the other means choosing an audience, choosing the community that the artist works with (other bands, industry people), and choosing the way that the artist is presented. Being on a small or independent label is truly a core value of the indie subculture.
I have not been updating this blog for a while, mainly because of the crazy course load I have this semester. This is still an assignment though, so I still have to do it, in a sense. It’s hard to keep yourself inspired and motivated to listen to music and think about these things, when you are busy doing entirely different things in other classes. Since this week is Thanksgiving Break for me, I have gotten a new boost to listen, think, read, and write about this project, which I am pretty passionate about. Since I have not been updating, I have lots of thoughts piled up to be shared on this blog.
This post is the beginning of a series of posts about the “independent” industry.
The most traditional definition of indie music is, of course, for “independent” music, meaning music that is produced by an independent industry. It only makes sense that this kind of industry, in which there is less pressure for profit and continuing success, provides more control for the artist. Thus, the artist can “do their own thing,” which may result in indie music as a genre or sound. Listeners recognize the sound as “indie” either because they know that the artist is participating in an independent industry or they are personally distinguishing that sound as authentic. I feel like this is a better definition (or perhaps wording) of indie that I can settle with; though, there are many discourses that arise with both definitions.
The questions that arise with the industry definition of it can go something like:
– How do you know which label is small and which is large? Or maybe the label is a smaller branch of a larger label?
– How do we know that the artist still have lots of control?
– What about bands that start out on an independent label and then move on to major ones? Are they still indie?
I think a lot of these questions have to do with the fact that there is a lot that listeners and scene members don’t know about the industry, from the recording end of it to the distributing end. The section of Empire of Dirt titled “Indie as a Distribution Method” does not give light to the industry in the U.S. and is outdated (does not talk about digital technology, etc.).
While promoting a band that is playing on my campus I came across these videos. They are DIY videos by the band Boy Eats Drum Machine. The first one is the making of CDs and the other is a little spot promo that they filmed themselves. It’s a sneak preview to a post that I will be doing later (more fully) on DIY and the independent industry.
Studious indie 