Defining A Generation: Battling the Hipsterati

I am about to do something extremely stupid.

I'm going to try to understand and define the counterculture behind my own generation (those persons born between 1975 and 1990).

Hipsters.

In a characteristic bout of irony, you could automatically claim that hipsters are NOT our current subversive nemesis to corporate society. You could laugh and claim I know nothing of this so-called counterculture-- because maybe you believe the people I'm about to discuss don't really (or maybe even have no right to) exist. But then why, after their supposed advent (circa 2001), are we still talking about them ten years later?

I always find it odd that my first introduction to the term "hipster" was rather late in the game. After all, I've been a self-proclaimed artist-of-sorts for years. In the spring of 2009, my Facebook news feed (creepily) featured an interesting conversation between two of my more casual university friends (both of whom were born in 1990). Its main comment of interest: "Sipping your latte and reading obscure novels on the Campus Green, eh? Oh, you're such a hipster!"

For some reason, and I couldn't tell you why, my first reaction was along the lines of: "A hipster? But she's a sweet girl. Don't they know that it's sort of a negative term?"

Then it turned to anger: "Well, if she's a hipster, then what the fuck am I?"

To be honest... I think I was actually jealous. But WHY? I had no idea what a hipster was!

My biggest problem with the term "hipster" isn't so much that its common usage these days refers to a negative stereotype, but rather, it's that we seem too keen in trying to label our current generation's countercultural movement.

Let's face it. It takes decades to properly label the ideology behind a definitive era. Even now, at least within the tenets of art history, historians have huge trouble setting boundaries to and coming up with definitions for specific cultural movements. When did the 20th-century avant-garde end? Should Mannerism be considered a movement or an aesthetic mode? And my personal favorite: "Don't even get me started on that Rococo shit!"

As other bloggers and countless magazine articles (mainly centralized around Brooklyn, NY: Hipster Central) have chosen to point out over the past decade, counterculture is the definition of the history of the American youth. It's the definition of international youth culture-- the age-old trek of rebellion.

Romantic Poets. The Lost Generation. Beats. Hippies. Punks. Grunge.

Are "Hipsters" even qualified to join this list of subversives?

Many people would tell you no. And why? Mostly for the fact that these current twenty-to-thirty-somethings have no ground for rebellion. Hell, they aren't even particularly rebellious at all.

I have often seen my generation called a bunch of passive-aggressive, unenthusiastic, snark-tastic comfort-seekers.

We are. But then, we aren't.

While it's true that we have no Vietnam to protest or much suffrage to yearn for, American youth in our current age do have a curious sense for nostalgia. Maybe we're simply yearning for labels, and in "not really trying"-- we're "trying too hard".

A label, positive or negative, is earned over the course of time.

As Jonny Diamond points out in his recent L Magazine article "What We Talk About When We Talk About Hipsters", hipsters shouldn't be pigeon-holed. They are the "true artists"-- bohemians through and through, who live roughly and honestly (i.e. rebelliously) in an attempt to create something new and beautiful. Art that will eventually (or, rather, hopefully) become mainstream.

In fact, society probably only seeks to define hipsters in the same way it defines most other facets of culture these days: in the realm of mass consumerism and the age of the internet-- too quickly.

Whether hipsters are the new free-loving, anti-war hippies, or merely like the failed punk rockers (who, according to some, never really broke out anyway), one thing is certain: They're here. And they-- are now.

The label of "hipster" is still up to considerable debate today, as it should be. In my eyes, there are actually four types of people living under the hipster label:

1) "True Hipsters": who live dangerously and roughly, under the radar, for the creation of new, interesting art; true bohemians in every sense of the word

2) "Hipster Scum": who live dangerously and roughly, not creating much art of quality as they unwillingly live off of society, and of whom don't plan to make much of themselves for as long as they can

3) "Fauxhemians": Post-art/business/law school young professionals hoping to catch the latest trends, living what they assume to be "a truly bohemian life", before realizing the need to grow up, get a steady job, and settle for the yuppie life

4) And "Mainstream Hipsters": Educated (or not) young people only looking to be consistently trendy (i.e. fakes).


The last three categories are seemingly negative to the view of "The True Hipster". In all honesty, however, the life of a "true artiste" is not glamorous.

Just ask Andy and Edie.

"Fauxhemians" don't seem to be much of a threat to me. I probably am one myself, actually. I have a degree in art history. I'm going to graduate school. I love traveling, good indie music, and obscure German literature and British television. I'm an intellectual. And sometimes, I like to be ironic. But one day, I want a flat, a full-time job, and to start a family in New York City.

What's so wrong with that? Am I not a "hipster" then? Eh. Oh well.

It seems to me that the supreme negative connotation of the hipster is, essentially, one that lives off of the system while consistently being BOTH a menace and a fraud.

My friend who likes to sip lattes and read Kerouac on the Campus Green, she's not a menace. Maybe she's an artist. But in most cases, if she's a college graduate, then she's more like me.

I don't know. What do you think, America? Are we trying too hard to find a label? Or does the fact that we're "trying too hard" just mean that we're "ironically" already creating our newest counterculture?

Maybe we should let time decide.

-GC

Edie Sedgwick and Andy Warhol
--------------------------------------------------
Sources for Further Reading:

Don't disregard the reader comments on these! Sometimes they give more insight to the hipster phenomenon than these articles ever could.

Jonny Diamond (The L Magazine- May 2010): "What We Talk About When We Talk About Hipsters"

Christian Lorentzen (Time Out New York- June 2007): "Why The Hipster Must Die"

Christian Lorentzen (Time Out New York- August 2008): "Why The Hipster Must Die: The Hipsterati Talks Back"

Mike Conklin (The L Magazine- May 2010): "Unknown Local Wears Terrible Hat, Hates Hipsters"

Jonny Diamond (The L Magazine- May 2010): "Garage Rockers vs. Hipsters, Part 2"

The Long and Winding Road... And a Little Clarification

Two and half years ago, I listened to the Jonas Brothers. Two and a half years ago, via AIM, a friend of mine flat out told me that my taste in music sucked.

The problem with that statement... was that it wasn't true. (The proper diagnosis probably should have been "misguided". But who isn't at eighteen, really?)

What's odd is that I'd grown up with decent music around me: traditional Italian folk music, Bon Jovi, Frank Sinatra, The Rolling Stones, Blondie, The Cars, The Beatles, Madonna, R.E.M., Michael Jackson, and pretty much the entirety of Motown. My late Aunt Silvana was even a classically trained opera singer/teacher.

By the time I was nine years old, and beginning the very first few days of pre-teenage self-consciousness, I was already forgetting my background in music culture-- I'd started listening to the Spice Girls. 'Nsync, Ricky Martin, and 98 Degrees would follow.

By the time I was twelve... I was slightly "emo"-- venturing tentatively into Linkin Park, Green Day, and Evanescence. In high school, most people would have been surprised to find that I listened to little other than over-hyped Broadway show tunes, the marching band and choir music that I practiced daily, the commercialized crap my "best friend" told me to listen to on the radio, and when I was alone... a lot of pretty dark stuff.

I graduated high school really depressed and looking for an outlet. That's why, in an attempt to "get happier" in college, I turned to the only things I knew: pop crap and more show tunes. At least the show tunes, by this point, were in foreign languages.

It was in January of 2008 that someone told me what they thought was the truth: I didn't know who I was. I was judgmental and superficial. Why? Because of the music I listened to.

This was a huge lie. And a horrible thing to say to someone (drunk or not).

By December of 2008, I was on a mission. To get educated. About so-called "good music".

It turns out that the "good music" had been within me all along.

I ended up graduating college with a minor degree in Applied Music Theory, History, and Vocal Performance. I want to learn the guitar. I own a turntable. The only music I physically buy is on vinyl record. (It's all about the cover art, man.) I attend gigs in New York City at least every two months. I read, and read, and read. I listen, and listen, and listen. My favorite bands range everywhere from The Velvet Underground, The Last Shadow Puppets, The Cure, Gogol Bordello, The Jackson 5, and David Bowie to Lacuna Coil, The Black Keys, Muse, Franz Ferdinand, and Kasabian. I also can't resist a little of the GaGa. (I love me some wacky performance art.)

My Jonas Brothers CD's are in the trash.

And I'm still learning. I live for new (and discovering old) music daily. Exciting music. Music of quality. People who play instruments as smoothly as running a comb through their hair. People who are beautiful because of the stories they create with their music. Living (or not), breathing, walking dreams. Young and old.

Everyone likes "shitty music" at some point in their lives. Hell, that's how we find ourselves.

And you know what? Fuck the people who tell you otherwise. They don't really know you. Because, in the end, all you have is your own confidence and your own will to prove yourself.

And, for fuck's sake, I have this blog!

-GC

Charlotte Gainsbourg Goes Lara Croft in Her Newest Music Video: Makes Sergie and Jane Proud

I'm not sure why I was so surprised to find out that Charlotte Gainsbourg sings. After all, everyone has a record deal these days. At least for five seconds anyway.

But, in truth, Gainsbourg's father is good old Serge-- the famous controversial French singer. Serge Gainsbourg is probably most memorable here in America for his less-than-savory appearance and his encounter with Whitney Houston on a French talk show back in 1986, which during said interview he proceeded to proclaim, on public television, just exactly what he'd have like to do to Whitney. Yeah. (See video below.)

There's no denying that Serge was a bit of a creeper in his day, but he went on to write some of the most inappropriate French love ballads of the twentieth century. Especially whilst dating his English muse, Charlotte's mother-- model and actress, Jane Birkin. The woman was beautiful. How she ended up with Serge, we'll never know.

That said, it's no surprise Charlotte has inherited the musical gene. Her voice is pretty, soft, and lyrical. I can't exactly see her ever breaking the charts, but for those that like that sort of meditative style, she's just perfect.

Her new video for "Time of the Assassins" boasts some weird supernatural "merde"-- if you will. It starts out relatively normal. Unless of course you believe that someone as beautiful as Charlotte should have no reason to be wandering through a forest alone. (Thankfully, I'm guessing, she inherited her mother's genes.) It's about halfway through the video that I start wondering if the spirit of Lennon didn't slip some LSD into Charlotte's wine at dinner last night. Is she going for Lara Croft or Trinity? I'm not sure. (See video below.)

I don't by any means hate the video. In fact, I like the weird. Then again, if your father and mother are Serge and Jane, I guess you'd have to sport a little bit of "the quirk" in you. In any case, if the singing doesn't work out, we all know that Charlotte's got the acting chops to back it up.

-GC

RECOMMENDED: To see Charlotte take on more of the absolutely weird, check out her performance in Antichrist (2009). For a tame Jane, watch her in Zeffirelli's 1996 adaption of Jane Eyre - also featuring a young Anna Paquin (HBO's True Blood). And lastly, if you like Italian cinema, see Charlotte in a film about Italian immigrants at Ellis Island in Nuovomondo (2006).


Charlotte Gainsbourg - "Time of the Assasins":



Source: Pitchfork


Whitney Houston and Serge Gainsbourg Talk Show Incident - 1986 (NOT CENSORED):



Source: Youtube

Welcome to The Glorified Collector!

It's a fitting name, isn't it? And to be perfectly honest, it is beautifully liberating to be able to write a blog that doesn't hold tenure to the vastly cliquish domain that is LiveJournal.

Why "The Glorified Collector"?

First, spot the reference if you can. They were barely around for a year before their lead man called it quits to head on to a solo project.

Anyhow. I am, by nature of degree, an art historian and soon-to-be museum professional. I like to collect things, and therefore, analyze them. I might appear pretentious, I guess. Although it's mainly the way I write that's at fault for that. I am very well aware, for one, that if I had to fall into a stereotype, I'd probably be one of those hipster-people-things, only breaking thirty before I realized I needed to get out of art school, get a new hair cut, and score a seat at the Guggenheim--or something. C'est la vie. Think what you want to think. I'll be here writing whilst you judge.

What do I write about?

Music, television, film. Modern culture in general. That sort. I don't claim to know the end all, be all on these subjects, but everyone likes a good critique now and then, yeah? I shall try my best.

I also tend to like British things. My apologies in advance if you're opposed to the fruits of the Crown. In which case... lame.

- GC