AESTHETIC FATIGUE AND THE PROBLEM WITH NOSTALGIA
In the inbox at NE we get hundreds of emails daily, and through the years I find songs that could fit in perfectly with the music I listened to growing up. That’s aesthetic fatigue kicking in; hearing those same tropes repeated till there’s nothing left. It’s not the musicians’ fault, it’s just what happens when repetition builds up across years of listening to soooo much music and believe me, we’ve listened to a shit load of music.
I’ve also realised, by recently contemplating this, that the culture of instant judgement and nostalgia-driven comparison is damaging not only musicians but also the listeners. I mean there’s nothing wrong with it per se, but personal taste plays a strong role and I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve simply heard too much of it. Maybe that says more about me than it does about the bands.
I’m literally at a point now where I feel like everything has been done, the recurring chord progressions, the familiar melodies, and the endless recycling of themes. I mean how many different ways can we write about heartbreak, grief, addiction, love, loss, or longing? I have to constantly remind myself that imitation is generally admiration, not laziness, and that is how most of us learn our voices in most things, not just music. Which is probably why nostalgia has such a hold on us in the first place.
Britpop was huge for a lot of us, God, I was born in the early eighties, but loving something that much can freeze you in time. There’s a term for it, genre ossification, when a genre becomes so defined by its past that new artists can’t move without being compared to it. That’s what I’m seeing now, people boxed in by nostalgia they didn’t ask for, just look at a festival line up over the last 20 years and you’ll see what I mean. Same bands, same regurgitated tunes, year in, year out I’m sick of writing about it. We’re literally at a point you could predict certain festival line ups before they’ve got a chance to even put a pen to paper (do people even use a pen anymore?). I love seeing younger people discover these bands, but I think some people are hoping for something that’s impossible.
The 90s are gone. The music remains, which is fantastic, but the culture, the attitude and the feeling of being there at the time can’t be brought back. The more we cling to that idea (and people are clinging to the 90s like it’s a cliff edge), the harder it becomes for anything new to move forward.You can reunite a band and it can be the best thing ever, but you can’t recreate a moment in history. The habit of sticking labels on things doesn’t stop with nostalgia either.
That same clinging is what happens once a song is out, too. When it comes to PR, not everyone has the money to showcase themselves properly, and sometimes it is just the music that needs a lot better presentation than it got. People take the opportunities they’re given, but along with that comes an association, and that association is what people look up later. What you release in the first place is not just a song. It is the label people reuse again and again when they are researching a band. As a writer, that’s something I have to think about as well.
There’s this idea with any blog or magazine that if something lands in your inbox, you’ll automatically cover it, but that’s not always the case. As a writer, that’s something I have to think about as well. I’m recently back writing, and I have turned down a couple of up-and-comers this week, not because they sounded bad, they could be amazing to the right ears. But I would rather not promote someone I cannot give proper love or attention. There are only so many reviews you can write before you end up just doing a template, so I leave it. Better that than a half-arsed write-up that follows them round.
When a band is established, it changes my stance a bit, because in most cases they can survive a shit review. They’ve usually been through the mill and don’t give a shit what I think. An up-and-comer takes things more personally, and I would rather withhold my honest opinion than hand them a review that they cannot shrug off. Unfortunately, the first impression sticks longer than it deserves to. Debuts should not matter this much, but they do and we can’t stop that, it’s all because people file the band under whatever arrived first and then stop listening for the change.
The same thing happens at the other end of the scale too. My recent review of Fontaines D.C.‘s new single proves the point. I gave it five stars and braced myself for the backlash because a lot of hardcore fans don’t appreciate their progression. The comment replies arrived predictably enough: “I don’t even recognise them,” “They’ve lost their soul,” and all the rest of it. People have essentially boxed them into whatever iteration happened to be released back then, making comparisons on every album to, “Oh, well, it’s definitely not Skinty Fia.” It’s fucking irritating watching that nostalgic checklist operate, and so the result is that anyone changing up their sound is automatically losing theirs. They know who they are, while fans are obsessed with earlier albums like Skinty Fia. The gap between those two versions can make progression look like loss.
Yes, there’s always going to be an exception, but a band’s sound doesn’t happen overnight. It’s not formed from one release, but the pressure to put something out before it is ready is a real thing and it’s exhausting. We live in a digital world that wants constant output, this comes at a cost though. I am not going to criticise anyone for giving in to that. What I do care about is what happens after the song is out. A rough song can be left alone with a meh, a rough song with a joke stuck to it cannot.
Twelve years of doing this has taught me one thing: opinions are easy, but responsibility isn’t. I’ve unintentionally riled people up before, of course I have, but you learn quickly that there’s a line between honest critique and just being an arse for the sake of it. Some people cross it deliberately, turning harshness into a personality, but that doesn’t make them discerning. It just makes life harder for musicians who are already under the microscope.
Social media has become the playground bully disguised as “a laugh”, easy to say over a phone camera, harder to say to a band’s face. Many musicians see this as a career, and someone getting off on everyone piling on and agreeing with viral insults for clout isn’t where it’s at.
Saying a song still sounds like the nineties acts it admires can be an opinion of course and we are entitled to one. Building a little superiority out of not being ‘that band’ is another label. I am not interested in either club.
Patience is something missing in music, so take your time and let your sound grow before chasing quick attention. Which brings me to the point I’ve been circling around all along. People are that obsessed with making it and churning stuff out insanely quick, that the obsession prevents it. Fuck the fame. Have fun, rehearse and gig like your life depends on it. Fame only appears once you build your foundation. It should never be the aim. Ignore the noise, both from the niche that demands endless repetition and the niche that exists to mock it. The artists people always remember aren’t the ones who chased quick validation or gave a fuck about what people thought, it’s the ones who gave themselves enough time to become themselves.
