By Jef With One F
By Rocks Off
By Chris Lane
By Angelica Leicht
By Corey Deiterman
By Angelica Leicht
By Corey Deiterman
By the time you read this, Racket will be in Austin, wallowing in the rock and roll phantasmagoria of South By Southwest – more than 1,100 bands playing on probably twice that many stages amid fields of fajitas, kegs of Lone Star, breakfast tacos by the ton and caramel-colored oceans of Shiner Bock, all at the world epicenter of twitching, frenzied, clench-jawed hype.
While SXSW was once a place for labels and unsigned talents to hook up (in the old-fashioned nonsexual way, usually) and cut deals, today's South By is almost entirely about hyping bands already signed and anointing two or three of them as the best bands in the history of the universe until Christmas shopping season, when two or three new ones will take their place until March 2007, when SXSW next gathers.
This will be my sixth straight one, and I've learned a few things along the way. First, don't waste your time at the trade show or the panels or even, to a lesser extent, the official showcases. Only mooks go to those. Instead, find a way to hit the coolest day parties. That's where the real action is nowadays.
Second, and more important, know going in that the whole "it" bands are foreordained. Barring a complete meltdown at South By, the bands that have the most and best hype going in will have the most and best going out.
The decisions have been made in smoke-filled rooms in London, New York and L.A. and in Pitchfork's Chicago office. The Arctic Monkeys, the Go! Team, Editors, Art Brut and Love Is All have already been bathed in the holy waters of Pitchfork's raves and are sure to wow everybody at their shows.
Why? Why are their shows sure to be epic? Because those who will be attending have been told they will be, by cool people on the Internet. I know this is true because I read the March issue of Harper's, wherein supercool person Bill Wasik – the evil genius behind the "flash mob" social experiment of a couple of years back, served up an amazing article on the state of hipness in the year 2006.
First, Wasik dredged up the old, now-neglected social psychology term "deindividuation," which is defined in the article as "a state of affairs in a group where members do not pay attention to other individuals qua individuals." (Sorry about that qua. It will never appear in Racket again.) Wasik elaborates thus: "When in a crowd or pack, the theory ran, each man sees he doesn't stand out and so his inhibitions melt away."
And then he applies the theory to today's hipsters – whom he defines as "those hundreds of thousands of educated young urbanites with strikingly similar tastes." In other words, the target audience for South By's Anointed Few, who, in Wasik's words, "make no pretense to divisions on principle, to forming intellectual or artistic camps; at any given moment, it is the same books, records, films that are judged au courant by all, leading to the curious spectacle of an 'alternative' culture more unanimous than the mainstream it ostensibly opposes."
Wasik traces this phenomenon back to 2002, when Strokesmania was willed upon Hipster Nation, who embraced them for a few months and then junked them along with their trucker hats, ironic mustaches and white belts in about October. And after that, the cycle was repeated – Franz Ferdinand, Interpol, Bloc Party and Clap Your Hands Say Yeah all followed, a list of Wasik's to which I would add Wolf Parade, and now, the Arctic Monkeys, who have yet to experience the full force of the inevitable backlash and discarding. (The case of CYHSY is particularly interesting. A few years ago, they would be seen as coming into SXSW with force-five momentum. In today's hyperkinetic hype-backlash world, they are already yesterday's news.)
But while this phenomenon might be new in America, it's been going on a lot longer in the UK. Britain is and has always been much more interconnected than the United States – it is tiny compared to America (England, shorn of Scotland and Wales, is only about the size of Alabama) and densely packed, and until the relatively recent rise of Sky TV, it was dominated by state-run media. Also, compared to the States, the UK lacks cultural diversity. Yes, there are lots of Asians and black people in the big cities, but for the most part the British cultural scene is not divided into country, rap, rock and the dozens of other camps that dot the landscape here. Most Brits would identify as fans of "pop," which includes everything from rock to rap to Eurodisco.
And for many, many years, the Brits have operated on the same hype-backlash paradigm that has recently taken root here. Here's how it worked over there: Some band – let's make one up called the Librarians, since "mundane professions" seems to be a de rigueur template for hipster band names right now – gets together and creates a stir in their native woebegone pub scene in Wigan. Needless to say, their sound features angular postpunk guitars and a razor-sharp rhythm section. They cut an album and tour grotty clubs in Liverpool, Manchester, Birmingham, Glasgow, Edinburgh. And then the Librarians take London. They diss the Fall in an interview, and then a week later pose for a beery pic with Mark E. Smith.