The Wonder of the Indie Rock Subculture

One of the defining characteristics of your average indie-rock (or, as Robert Christgau calls it, “semi-popular music”) fan is their passion. This passion manifests itself in a range of ways that range from the inspiring to the annoying to the disturbing: Loyalty that borders on obsession; condescension toward those outside of the inner sanctum of the cognoscenti; rampant elitism; proprietary claims to the music that are utterly inexplicable; and an almost preternatural sensitivity to perceived slights. This last trend manifests itself especially when the band or bands in question change direction and become, or try to become, more popular. The backlash from the true believers can be ruthless. These fans love having a connection to what might best be called a fetish property, part of the appeal of which is that they are part of a select group. Nothing will turn the indie devotee off like when their band suddenly becomes known. This is especially selfish because the fan effectively begrudges the success of bands about which they purport to care so deeply. It is solipsism run amok.

If this sounds like a negative portrait, it is not intended to be. The same fans (and in many ways I am one of them) care deeply about good music, buy cds, and help keep alive a subculture of devotion to music, of believing that music can actually change someone’s life. Music for these people, for us, is more than just background noise. It is an essential part of a way of life, as crucial as food and water and sex and air. If it can be insufferable it can also be inspiring. And so much of it is simply better than most of what passes for popular music these days, whatever the subgenre.

Of late there have been a couple of pieces that have appeared in the the New York Times about this particular subculture in both its endearing and grating manifestations. This piece introduces Ric Harcourt, a radio dj for Los Angeles station KCRW whose show, “Morning Becomes Eclectic,” is a vital voice for getting semi-popular acts much deserved air time. This one discusses the problem of overearnestness in much of the writing about indie rock, leading readers to The Shins Will Change Your Life which allows the overwrought prose of those who write about this music to stand on its own. (Please note that the link in the Times piece was inaccurate at last check, but my link should work). I do want to mention The Believer, a magazine that gets a mention in the second Times piece, because I do not want to leave the wrong impression. While Kalefa Senneh is critical of The Believer for its perhaps overearnest embrace of a narrow strata of music in its recent music issue, it is also the most vibrant, intelligent, interesting magazine I have seen in years. Its focus is mostly literary, but it covers a range of topics, including music, film, and anything else that might be interesting or quirky or that crosses it radar. I cannot recommend it highly enough, even if its tastes seem to run toward the esoteric and its cover price ($8) might give you pause. I owe Sean Chadwell, one of my colleagues at last summer’s National Endowment for the Humanities Summer Institute, my eternal gratitude for exposing me to The Believer, which comes to us via the Valencia Street folks in San Francisco (David Eggers, Zadie Smith, Nick Hornby, etc.).

Plus, if bands like the Shins, Modest Mouse, Pinback, Sleater Kinney, the Decembrists, and many, many others in this interesting but, alas, obscure subgenre won’t exactly change your life, they will make it just a little bit better. That seems reason enough to get to know this world and its rabid, passionate, and sometimes obnoxious inhabitants.