Jeff’s got a great response to my blog post about Arcade Fire winning their Grammy, and how we can lump AF fans into categories based on their response to that victory. Briefly, my point was that those who are dismayed by widespread acceptance of the band can be called hipsters; those who are happy for the band for having a bigger audience for their music can be called evangelists.
I know some people that were genuinely bummed by the Grammy win, as if some dumb award had somehow altered the band’s music, or the significance it held in their lives.
I’ve posted about this before (and better), but the layers of context we apply to our art, fashion, and entertainment tend to be weighted so much more heavily than other, more “real” attributes. Music is a collection of sounds, voices, and words…a recorded song doesn’t change with the passing of time, but it will come into style, go out, and come back again 15 years later. Baggy pants and skinny pants are to be worn in alternating decades, ad infinitum. The only things that are cool forever are The Beatles and Converse Chucks (and if Chucks ever go out of style, blame John Varvatos).
Pieces of art and music don’t change, we do, constantly. This bothers me, perhaps because my fluctuating tastes are a reminder that I’m not who I used to be, and I won’t be the same guy tomorrow either. And while I do my best not to define myself by my tastes in music, clothes, or anything else, there’s still a sense of loss when I can’t appreciate a song I used to love, or when I see an old picture and think that the shirt I was wearing looks ridiculous. And there’s a fear that I’ll lose what I have now as more time passes. Sorry to tie fashion to mortality and Heraclitus, but there it is: We never listen to the same song twice.
Perfect example: Dave Matthews Band. I used to love them. I mean, LOVE THEM. I’ve seen them play live a million times, and I can play all their songs on guitar, bass, and drums (well, ok, not drums, but I try). I even appreciated Dave’s lyrics, and how they only really made sense when you take them all together as a body of work.
But one day in 2005, I just grew out of them. I still think they’re phenomenal musicians, but when I listen to them I’m enjoying my nostalgia instead of enjoying the music for what it is. Whatever part of me it was that used to love “Jimi Thing” and “Drive In, Drive Out” is now mostly gone, and I’m enjoying memories instead of music.
I don’t think I’m old enough yet to know for sure if all my music will one day become nostalgic. I hope not. And I’m not sure if the antidote is to fend off nostalgia by constantly discovering new bands, or to wall myself off and listen to my established favorites forever. I can’t see myself doing the latter, but I know people in each camp, as I’m sure you do too.
I’m listening to Collective Soul as I write this, just to see how it holds up (I probably haven’t listened to their blue album in 10 years). It’s probably not a fair example, because their sound was always a bit dated…way too tidy and precise to be called grunge, and their guitar distortion never sounded like it came from a real amp. But yeah, “Run” is still a great song, as is “The World I Know.” Smashing Pumpkin’s “1979″ and Sublime’s “Santeria,” two of my favorite songs when I was a senior in high school, sound just as lush and complex as they ever did. But then “Semi-Charmed Life” just sounds completely ridiculous.
So maybe time just weathers art differently, and the good songs/art/fashions are the ones that can withstand the powerful march of time and taste. There might be a point in the future when I won’t feel anything for Arcade Fire. But when that time comes, it won’t have been dictated by the Grammy voters.
