The Indie Rock Hero: Uniquely Ubiquitous.
Indie rock & roll, and indie heroes has always been a strange thing. It’s an art form, purely defined by a monetary statement. Strange, considering the idea is they don’t care about the money and the success. Or, for the first time since rock & roll star became something teenagers wanted to do, it was artists who would be happy to accept a chunk of stardom, but not if they had to invest their lives in a major label’s cookie-cutter career path towards success. A punk statement: I will not work for the man to achieve success. But in an industry that’s owned by the man, that doesn’t work out so well. And success is really only attainable by that hard-lucky-working 1%. So these ideals became a lifestyle, a lifestyle the birthed a thousand twee bands and hipsters.
The indie hero didn’t wear leather jackets, white t-shirts, and ray bans to make a statement, they wore them because they found them in a box in the attic, or inherited them from a relative who had passed away recently, and the whole family was stuck going over to the house of the deceased to clean it out and figure out what was salvageable. Indie meant they were recording lo-fi music in their basement because they didn’t have time or resources to go into a fancy studio, considering writing songs was one of a number of creative outlets. They had painting to do, readings to do, and a day job to pay the bills. And that’s what always intrigued me about indie music. It was getting a ticket into someone’s inner world, the place they created in music.
It was almost inevitable, considering the sheer amount of music that became available with Napster and the internet in the late 90s. It was sort of insane, and overwhelming. Instead of hearing one song on the radio, or at a friend’s house, then asking about who that was, then finding the album, then finding out who they played with live/who else was on the label, and listening to them; all music at once could be heard at home with no one else as filter/guide/recommender but your own ears, patience, and download bit rate. This glut of music blew open the styles and genres someone might run into.
Imagine a city street, with giant apartment buildings on either side. In the old days, you’d have to wander up into each building, taking stairs, walking down halls, to find the rooms that hid the psychedelic acoustic rock from Brazil, or the Japanese pop, or the band from Idaho that had one demo tape. The internet was the equivalent of all these bands exiting all these buildings during a fire drill, and hanging out on the street playing their music.
I think this inspired thousands upon thousands of people to make their own music. When you make your own music, you do it because you want to get the song in your head out there. If there’s more reference material available to you, you’ll find things that bring you closer to that sound, that move you closer to that finish line.
So the influx of people who were writing personal music, plus putting it out there on the internet for simultaneous wide distribution (even if no one listened), led to this almost folk hero of indie: the guy or gal who made music purely for themselves, and on a whim put it out there in the world. And coming off the scene-itis of the old days, where authenticity was king, and you were more authentic by knowing more and more about your scene, these obscure artists were a boon. People were hungry for the unknowns. And they lapped them up, championed them on blogs, put their music on mix CDs they’d burn and distribute, and talk them into playing their local coffee shop.
But just as they were claiming their crown for knowing the most obscure band, people stopped caring. There were so many permutations of every genre available now that people closed up, like a flower at night. They retreated, and hibernated, and boy bands took over the airwaves and people thought the Strokes were the most amazing rock & roll band to ever play guitar.
The scenes still rear their heads, but I’m not sure anyone aspires to be punk/hardcore/newwave anymore. Why aspire to break into a scene, when you can be your own scene? Make your own music in your basement/bedroom/garage?
I think the indie hero is so common, so present everywhere, that no one even asks these questions anymore. They just make their music, put it on the internet, and relish in being an undiscovered gem in the indie rock underground.
