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look at all these dancers, living in bliss.... not a phone in sight,,,, just shaking ass to hudson mohawke’s “cbat.” the song has contemporary relevance as a quote unquote “meme”, but in 2013 that wasn’t the case. the dancers’ reaction is pure enjoyment in acknowledgement of the song’s inherent silliness. irony can only be understood retroactively. there is no need to justify why they love the song nor is anyone focused on how they are perceived despite being knowingly filmed. the early internet has itself become a relic to yearn.

#BornInTheWrongGeneration #Zillenial #NoughtiesKid

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growing up online, authenticity has become a sought-after commodity. with the advancement of ai technology, what we perceive online has become increasingly personalised as well as fabricated. it becomes hard to actually discern whether the things we come across are organic discoveries. 

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in early 2022, i wrote about the effect that media saturation has on our perception of nostalgia:

“The backdrop of my youth will be a cacophonous buzz; trends, songs, and moments will flit past me in a flash.”

maybe i was overly pessimistic about the presence of the internet in my day-to-day life, but the overwhelming feeling of being consumed by media continues to resonate. 

when you are constantly inundated with new information, in addition to this information being specifically catered to your presumed interests, it is hard to know what your “real” interests are.

pop culture has always had a plasticine element when it comes to knowing what actually “belongs” to the fans, but this ephemerality only grows stronger as songs, stories, images, and experiences flit past at exponential rates. 

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lindsay zoladz articulates this in her article "everything happens so much", a personal reckoning on the significance of slow media in an age of media saturation. zoladz discusses the fatigue brought on by the age of streaming and instant-access to information, using an anecdote of "never having listened to kraftwerk." the internet beckons us to exclaim "what do you mean you've never listened to kraftwerk?!?!!?" after all, it's just a google search away. the fast-paced and expansive nature of today's media sphere has led to the depletion of complete "narratives" within the media we consume.

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while trend cycles are natural, the 2010s (imo) marked the beginning of a period of cultural divergence, wherein suddenly there was no monopolization on cultural output. magazines, television, radio, etc-- while still being vital to pop culture, were no longer the singular means of cultural production.

the pervasiveness of the internet caused a shift in where we consumed our information and culture -  it could be both more personalised and more global. alternative, underground and diy scenes  which previously played a part in providing counter-cultural cultural output  also began to shift online. emos, scene kids, hipsters, weebs etc.  as a result various "aesthetics" emerged online.

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an example which i think conveys what i mean about the 2010s visually is LDR's "video games" music video, which became a viral sensation and launched her career. the webcam lip-syncing, combined with countless clips of a vague yet romantic sense of an opulent past/obscured present as well as the song's vintage-tinged swooning. LDR’s music captures a sense of dated-timelessness-- she constantly has something to long for, be it a lover or a period that she was never a part of. 

maybe this is a bit cringe, but i wrote about LDR when i reviewed "born to die" for its tenth anniversary:

More than anything, Born To Die signaled a cultural shift; away from the global pop theatrics which dominated the late 00s, exemplified by the likes of Lady Gaga and Beyonce, and into a more intimate notion of superstardom. Lana Del Rey offered a 21st century reimagining of what it meant to be a female pop star: the digital Sad Girl trapped between eras.

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from Sad Girls onto Sad Boys (𝖊𝖒𝖔𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖆𝖑 𝖇𝖔𝖞𝖘 2001). yung lean's "ginseng strip 2002" looks at this idea of oversaturation as being global. if lana is able to effortlessly borrow motifs from decades past, yung lean succeeded in drawing inspiration from global music and art scenes he was exposed to through the internet.

here we have a 16-year-old boy recreating american rap from the suburbs of stockholm. there is something quite pure about the video, between the lewd lyrics of a kid just getting the grip on english, the looping japanese sample, the capricious editing, whilst drinking arizona iced tea, and sprinkling in vapourwave motifs. i think the video represents a lot of the language used by gen z to express themselves online. artists have always drawn from other cultures in their creative expression, but yung leans utilisation is feels a lot more personal and, consequently, more impactful to his young peers. anyone has the power to create narratives to their life using language and expression they've seen online.

nowadays, we see this with teenagers and young adults on TikTok using media from the past and across the globe to create a sense of narrative to their lives. an outfit video to the theme song of "serial experiment's lain," an anime from the early 2000s. a "day in my life" to xtal by aphex twin. we are constantly seeking to create art from what we see in our daily surroundings, and the internet's presence has recontextualised the way in which we represent day-to-day life.

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one last tangent before i move on to my next subpoint. i especially find the indie sleaze revival interesting. indie sleaze emerged around the 2008 recession from indie music such as The Libertines, Sky Ferreira, and MGMT, also taking inspiration from party scenes being posted online-- reveling in cheap clothes, grungy aesthetics, and flashy accessories. it was retroactively declared "indie sleaze" in the 2020s when it experienced a revival, mainly on TikTok.

from a contemporary standpoint, indie sleaze resonates as it taps into today's culture of hedonism and pessimism following the pandemic. we go to the party, and we may be getting lit. there is a darkness to what we are doing. it all begins to feel a bit cheap,,, or even just masquerading as cheap,,, the mascara begins to drip off your face,,, and you walk home in the morning a shell of a person. You Are Broken But Beautiful.

indie sleaze revels in the illusory nature of glamour,,, offering a commentary on the irony of high culture while itself being inherently contradictory as an aesthetic primarily represented by wealthy white people.

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in the wise words of Lil Uzi Vert:

She arch her back, no backbone I don't know if I'll last long I hope that I just last long (go) Woah Yes Woah All these hoes tell, you don't gotta ask me Fuck a hotel, fucked her in the backseat Her old man, is it in sync (backstreet) I was bitin' down, off ecstasy, my back teeth Met her in New York, district was the pack meat I hope she don't backstab me She doesn't have a father, lookin' for a daddy To be a white girl, yeah, she got a fatty Woah Why pop one when you can triple bean Eternal rockstar, bleedin' from the spleen Life isn't ever what it really seems Once you wake up, it's just a dream

 in a contemporary sense, the indie sleaze revival has primarily cemented itself in more club-based scenes-- echoing the legacy of groups like Crystal Castles. after all, i love nothing more than to be Sad In A Club. i think it's a feeling that resonates with a lot of us. even if we exist in social spaces, we may still feel estranged from our surroundings

where was i going with this?

oh yes,,, Snow Strippers. a detroit-based duo that confounds me. they are one of those artists where every song sounds somewhat the same. Snow Strippers has truly tapped into the *ndie *leaze, $$$wag culture of the 2010s. making music that is at once hilarious yet somewhat depressing. behind the 4x4 beat and ethereal melodies is hollowness,,, a feeling that the beautiful times have already slipped from your fingers.

i actually had the chance to see them live this year at creepy teepee. i was completely shook as the token Guy producer stood at the front for the entirety of the set flashing Swag poses. It Was Enthralling. when the Disembodied Voice of Lil Uzi Vert began to play, the entire crowd levitated. it felt like i was seeing Jesus. (i was also on a lot of ketamine for this)

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onto my next tangent

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the Internet enables you to create a persona. and, for better or for worse, this persona does not actually have to resemble yourself. this can be empowering in some ways, but other times it simply leads to appropriation of communities you are not a part of. for instance, groomers on children's apps.

i've always been very fascinated by the idea of possessing an avatar when you exist on the internet. i was aware of this even with my earliest interactions online, through playing games like club penguin and moshi monsters. the internet is both powerful and damning in its potential to allow you to re-represent and, thus, recreate yourself.

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in spring of last year, i had a psychedelic-induced manic episode that inspired me to bury my phone in my sock drawer, buy a walkman, and listen only to cds for a week and a half. for that period in mid-april, my life was soundtracked by a lee scratch perry two-disc complete works compilation, laraaji, the kinks, and yoko ono’s “fly.”

i became convinced that social media and algorithms were corrupting me, and that i had no real sense of self beyond what a computer told me i was. i felt more attached to a digital psyche than my physical self. disconnecting for two weeks taught me truly how dependent i was on my phone when it came to self-perception. without it, it felt like i had no friends, music, or personality.