I caught myself in my last column (and yes, I do take pride in using this word, delusions of grandeur, which to my horror calls to mind the recently shorn poodle hair of James May...) in preaching a thoroughly middle road and "sensible" approach as I poured derision over those youthful, passionate persons, focused exclusively on their views. The idea that people should be a little more reticent in their views, and vociferous support of any particular art is, on further contemplation, a hard line to traverse, as due to their very nature, people are going to have profoundly varying tastes. The trick comes in at being able to engage differing views whilst retaining ones own that the lines become grey and blurred.
I was profoundly aware of this recently when a few of us became engaged in a discussion over, curiously enough, sport. The old debate over the merits of Nadal as against Federer came up, and although I fall solidly within the Federer camp, ironically, I found myself supporting Nadal. Be this as it may, my interest was piqued at the moment when views began to be expressed, as the conversation became extremely stilted and fell away almost immediately. It was if people either could not muster the energy to care, or were shying away from any sort of confrontation, preferring rather to dwell on nostalgia and past times. An admirable pursuit, the latter, but a dangerous one as we all well know. Things always look a little better through rose-coloured lenses, idealised and romanticised against the hard light of the every day.
I always find this disappointing, as there is nothing worse than discourse to be left sitting haplessly in mid-air. A dirty social error, that people would rather forget as if it were a slur that must be immediately ignored and removed from the collective memory. Music is one of the trickiest of all, as it becomes wrapped up not only in personal tastes but also memories and people. A song heard at a specific moment can have meaning for just the snatch of a line, or because of the company in which it was heard. I recall a friend becoming a hyperactive grinning dervish whenever Katy Perry's I Kissed A Girl came on, or another who would feel this uncontrollable urge to throw a punch at whomever was in his immediate vicinity whenever the Killer's Mr. Brightside came on. Heard in the daylight however, and they would give mumbled, embarrassed explanations that they don't really like the songs much at all, but that it must be heard in context.
But of course, people do have views, and the trick lies in how those views are expressed. To put it cynically, one would imagine that there must be genuine, or at least feigned, interest, and doubt that is potentially (seemingly) open to suggestion, combined with a passion for music in order for there to be any meaningful conversation. Indie rock falls down, though, as it can too easily become a plethora of obscure bands that are unknown to most, with the result that there just isn't scope for discussion from the outset. To draw an extreme example : "They sort of sound a bit like Broken Social Scene, with a bit of the National, but with this twist of a kind of disco feel of like MGMT but more edgy with some Aphex Twin, and the added intensity of the Microphones" becomes decipherable such as to be meaningless. One can only nod, and perhaps mumble, "Sounds interesting" and move on to more fruitful topics of conversation. Leaving aside that this is an extreme example (although I wonder what a cross of this nature would sound like?) and that some of the names may be unfamiliar, there are just too many genre signifiers for it to promote anything meaningful. It becomes a peacock's parade, as people display knowledge as opposed to any particular view.
This is one side, as the other indie fans become more like older rock fans - they still possess a wealth of arcane knowledge, but are less open to suggestion and are thus more reticent to express their tastes. I fall solidly within this category, I know what I like, and for the most part, I just leave it at that. People needn't be overly concerned as I shall not bombard any with bands that I believe must be heard - they receive a mention here, of course, but little else.
It is sad point of view to adopt though, as there is an obviously communal element to music, and this is often the reason that many of us have "early obsessions", that have developed into lifelong habits, as a result of nostalgic connotations to many bands that we regarded as seminal during our formative years. Regardless of whether or not these bands are any good in hindsight, they still retain a sepia glow that we find ourselves fostering. Furthermore, there are many of us that are compelled to share our views and wish to recapture those exciting days when a discussion over music was an event, and a pastime that we eagerly indulged in. Perhaps it is a symptom of just too much music that people are becoming lost in the ether fumes. One need only imagine the many bewildered looks that people get when they are faced with thousands of names of bands that they have never heard of, and an over-ethusiastic ringmaster, whipping them hurriedly through tracks "they have got to hear"to understand the conundrum.
A discussion is something that needs to be finished and - although music can quickly acquire that aspect of ethics where, at a certain point, the conversation boils down to where nothing further can be said - it is extremely frustrating when things are left incomplete and a discussion is brushed under the carpet. People should have their views, and although perhaps there is a need to learn to be a little less vociferous and a little more engaging, this should not destroy the conversation. I knew of people who once had a music club which was modeled on the same lines as a book club. People would meet once a month and pick a few cd's that they would bring along to share. It would not be many (I cannot recall, but I think it may have only been one or two per person for the month) and they would exchange the albums and just generally meet to have a chat. Of course, none of these clubs are intensive and often just an excuse to meet - a famous and long running Book Club is infamous for its sole qualification being that one may never discuss books at Book Club - but it is at least a forum.
So perhaps herein lies the answer. I can promise that the Breakfast Club moments shall be banned, and furthermore infringement, depending on membership numbers, will carry a variety of penalties that are open to informed and engaged negotiation, of course.
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