Archive for the ‘Consumer Culture’ Category

#397 – Geeking Out

Tuesday, June 22nd, 2010

two critics on the art of fandom & the politics of geekdom.

Artistry often begins in fandom—as an aspiration, at first, not really to express one’s creative identity but to take on someone else’s. …Real anxiety comes not with influence, but with the imperative to transcend it, which is another part of creative development.

- David Hadju, “Pretending,” on The Beatles: Rock Band & Guitar Hero, The New Republic, 2 December 2009

Whatever the personal roots of Lethem’s compulsions in temperment and trauma, geekdom also responds to a wider history. It is not simply fandom and was not fully possible before the 1970s, the decade in which Lethem grew up. Its scholarly posture awaited the erasure of high/low distinctions and the rise of a popular culture that thought enough of itself to elicit a corresponding critical seriousness. …All of a sudden it was intellectually respectable to spin out theories about Spiderman or I Dream of Jeannie. And not just respectable, but necessary. The ’70s also marked the moment when media culture reaached a kind of saturation point, the age by which we found ourselves, as George W.S. Trow famously put it, within the context of no context. What Warhol intuited and Sontag theorized was now universal—and for children of the ’70s, congenital. All media, all the time: commercials, billboards, boom boxes, Muzak, cable; hooks, jingles, icons, slogans, logos. …Geekdom resists the informational avalanche through the impossible strategy of seeking to master it—hence both its theoretical drive and the infinitude of its quest.

— William Deresiewicz, “A Geek Grows in Brooklyn,” on the novel Chronic City by Jonathan Lethem, The New Republic, 21 October 2009

Hadju, adolescent of the 1960s, and still something of a modernist, argues that fandom arises out of imitation—the anxiety of influence comes from the next step: trying to become yourself.

Deresiewicz, child of the 1970s, and fully born into the postmodern experience, expresses an entirely different worry: no more is the issue to become yourself in the shadow of heroes, but rather simply to survive the onslaught of information in the first place.

This is not an anxiety of influence, but rather an anxiety of lack of influence. The goal is not originality, but mastery of lost originals. One geeks out not to transform oneself, but to find refuge in what already exists.

#388 – Smells Like Mid-Life Crisis

Wednesday, May 12th, 2010

it’s like rain on your wedding day: a.o. scott on the ironies (are they ironies?) of the gen x man’s mid-life crisis.

A.O. Scott has a typically intriguing and well-written essay of cultural criticism in which he detects a crisis of the Gen X male’s mid-life crisis. Scott knits together, in a threadbare grunge-flannel tapestry, recent films such as Greenberg and Hot Tub Time Machine and Sam Lipsyte’s novel The Ask to argue that the meta-crisis for Gen X men now arriving in middle age is that they never grew up in the first place.

I think Scott has it backward. The real crisis of Gen X men is not that they can’t grow up in order to have a mid-life crisis, but rather that they were never young in the first place. That is to say, they were never young by the criteria of the baby-boomer definitions of youth (“hope I die before I get old” and all that). These constructions of youth and adolescence—forged in the 1960s and 70s—dominated American middle-class culture in the 1980s and 90s. But they were also imploding as baby boomers clung to youth into their middle years and redefined, along with corporate marketers happy to help them, what young meant.

The need to establish youth as generational difference remained an imperative for Gen X, but it no longer functioned well to establish difference. This was the experience of “vintage postmodernism” that Scott describes in the essay. (As a side note, “vintage postmodernism” a fabulously strange phrase, as if to suggest that now we live in a post-postmodern moment—and perhaps we do; and perhaps therein lies a way out.)

What happened in the 1980s and 90s was that the temporal organization of life stages exploded  across biological ages, thus making it both necessary and impossible for Gen Xers to validate their experiences of youth on baby boomer terms. I think this might well apply for women as for men of this generation.

Gen X was itself a manufactured label born of the 60s impulse to define generational cohorts. This group came of age with the need to talk about their generation, but they themselves had to manufacture both the talk and the generation out of categories that no longer caused a big sensation. And they’ve been uncomfortably numb ever since.

#387 – If You’re Feeling Sinister

Wednesday, May 12th, 2010

indie-pop at nordstrom.

Play me a song to set me free.

- Belle & Sebastian, “Stars of Track and Field”

My tri-annual desperate trip to the mall for something resembling respectable clothing last weekend took me to the men’s clothing department at Nordstrom, where, piped out of the sound system, came the strains of Belle & Sebastian. One of the songs off of If You’re Feeling Sinister. Which brought me back to one of the Scottish band’s first U.S. gigs at Angel Orensanz Foundation in New York City, in 1997.

Dude, I was there! I am authentic indie-rocker—hear me whimper! Okay, just kidding. Nonetheless, it was still something of a shock—a small one but it registered—that this music, at first celebrated by a select few for its obscurity, would travel from a mysterious show on the Lower East Side to the anonymous sales rack of a suburban Chicago mall.

And yet, of course, it’s no surprise at all. Is this not the fate of all tuneful indie-pop? Or at least of the stuff valued at first for its non-mainstream sound and style. Pure easy listening, settle down.

The homogenization and incorporation of this music is to be expected. What was more odd was that the song still carried something else besides its utter, merciless cooptation.

This muzak contained a message in a bottle. It was labeled and sold, but not entirely watered down.

Of course, perhaps this is exactly what it was meant to sell: the sound of not being in a mall in suburban Chicago, even as one was there; the sound of pretending not to be part of the problem even as one is part of the problem. Credit card whipped through their slots, clothes made in god-knows-what exploitative working conditions folded neatly in a bag and hidden away. Ohh! Get me away from here, I’m dying.

Yet, there was something in hearing Belle & Sebastian among the natty manikins and Joseph Abbouds that defied even this clever bait-and-switch of hip consumerism. There was a desire that the song still carried despite its deployment to distract.

This struck me as something miraculous. The song communicated the musical traces of a moment preserved: the sound of people assembled in communal creativity and human connection; the excitement of making and hearing something that spoke to deeper urges for human connection even as it had been commodified and trivialized.

The song hand-signaled within its mass-distributed notes. It reminded me that even as music gets lost in the mall, it keeps something of its power. The ends of music’s production are not entirely vanquished by the means of its consumption.

#376 – Product Placement

Tuesday, March 16th, 2010

cultural criticism in the age of social networking: from content and form to contexts and formats?

Rob Horning’s always fascinating columns explore the politics of consumerism. Horning charts a path between the usual camps of “consumption bad!”—”no, consumption good!” Recently, he has focused on the impact of Web 2.0 technologies, particularly social networking, on public life.

In “Reviews for consumption convenience,” Horning turns his attention to a recent blog post by Jason Kottke about developments in Amazon.com reviews, which increasingly focus on the formats of cultural products and the contexts in which they might be consumed rather than their actual content or form.

For Horning, the shift away from critical spaces for discussing content and form are troubling, but he uses the occasion not merely to issue a screed, but rather to ponder the place of cultural criticism in contemporary public discourse. Horning writes:

Criticism will recede into recondite elaborations of personal experiences with the goods, as the idea of trying to capture a consensus view will have disappeared completely from public discourse. Public discourse itself seems sort of threatened anyway, subject to replacement by social networks. Lost will be that middle ground of critical reviews, which help establish a context of reception that makes our engagement with something far richer and more meaningful.

It’s a nice description of what is so appealing, yet troubling about social networking: it is radically democratic, but does it fragment cultural criticism’s ability to achieve any sort of collective framework for shared understanding of cultural goods and experiences? There’s still “engagement,” as Horning points out, but no more “middle ground” of “consensus” and a “context of reception.”

Of course, consensus had its own historical shortcomings. Usually a small group’s opinions were mapped onto collective opinion. But, is it worth reconceptualizing what kind of “consensus” might be possible in the radically fragmented and decentered channels of Web 2.0? We’re probably not going back, so where does cultural criticism go now?

We still don’t know yet what the public looks like in this new zone of social interaction, and if at times it looks like a pseudo-public in which supposed consumer empowerment masks the profound inequalities and anti-democratic dimensions of corporate capitalism, at other moments, social networking seems to offer new avenues for cultural criticism as a more democratic encounter with “engagement” and all that it might entail.

#354 – Content and Its Discontents

Tuesday, January 19th, 2010

meditations on the message of the medium.

When the Internet went mass in the 1990s, we thought that content would be king.

But it turns out that content is free.

The question now is free for what and for whom?

Is Web 2.0 the commodification of the desire to create freely: you provide the content for free on Facebook and the company makes the profit?

Or is something else going on? Something more sneaky?

Is the human urge for free-ranging creativity slowly invading the networked links of commodity capitalism: are the distribution systems of mass commercial cracking open in bittorrented cloudbursts?

As competing forms of the network tangle, what will give our content contentedness?

#351 – Not Building a Name Brand

Tuesday, December 15th, 2009

no logo, chicago-style?

Naomi Klein would probably object, but no logo has a long, if not exactly anti-capitalist history in the Chicago area, which is filled with companies that brandish (or do not brandish as the case may be) their rather nondescript brand names: General Automation, Inc.; Accurate Products, Inc.; and proudly (or reticently) standing on the shores of the Chicago River, General Growth, which is, fittingly in these times of general recession, struggling to overcome a “mammoth bankruptcy.”

General Growth Close Up

Photograph: Culture Rover

#329 – Highest Common Denominator

Tuesday, August 18th, 2009

envisioning the dream of the commons in mass culture.

An increase in scale does not always entail reductiveness: one effect of the best mass culture is to trace or forge the connections among the unprecedentedly diverse experiences of its unprecedentedly broad audience. When artists find this common ground, the experience, however fleeting, of so enormous a community is visionary and exalting. When they fail, they can retreat into an irony that thrives in the vast range and dense detail of American consumer culture.

- George Scialabba, writing against Dwight Macdonald’s “Masscult and Midcult”

#322 – Saving Capitalism

Thursday, June 25th, 2009

new strategies in corporate financing.

safeway1

Safeway supermarket, Washington D.C.

Are we donating to some kind of foundation for the prevention of prostate cancer at this checkout or to Safeway supermarket itself? The signage is ambiguous, and swiping the debit card, one is really not quite sure.

#315 – The People’s Republic of Miller High Life

Tuesday, June 2nd, 2009

of beer and advertising the proletarian revolution, or, workers of the world, you have nothing to lose but your hangovers!

In CR #301, we explored the spate of new commercials that almost instantaneously incorporated the current economic crisis into their advertising. These commercials — for fast food, cars, and even for financial investment products (!) — seek to absorb the anxieties of the current crisis into the fantastical dreamworld of consumerism.

Perhaps the most fascinating recent advertising campaign of this type is the Miller High Life “Delivery Guy” series, which features a delivery man re-appropriating bottles of Miller High Life from elites who are out of touch with the common man. The beer is taken back from a luxury box at a sporting event, from the fancy-hats crowd at a Kentucky Derby-like race, and from the hip elites behind the velvet rope and bouncer at a nightclub.

The message of the ads, delivered by a working-class delivery guy, is a strangely sublimated version of disaccumulation, of redistributing private property from the top to the bottom. But instead of smashing the state, or smashing the machines of capitalist alienation, here proletarian revolution is merely bottled and redistributed in a consumer fantasy of working-class reappropriation.

As such, the advertisements speak in the realm of leisure (and of beer, which has a long history of involvement in class struggles — just think of all those German socialists in the 19th century U.S.) to class resentments and fantasies of class resistance. So too, the ads keep those feelings and ideas bottled up and puts them on ice, then pours them out into humor and intoxication rather than actual revolution.

The true high life remains for some, but not for all.

Miller High Life “Delivery Guy” Ad Campaign

#313 – Culture Rover’s Unfamiliar Quotations

Sunday, May 24th, 2009

consumer advocacy from c. wright mills.

You cannot “possess” art merely by buying it. You cannot support art merely by feeding artists — although that does help. To possess it you must earn it by participating to some extent in what it takes to design it and to create it. To support it you must catch in your consumption of it something of what is involved in the production of it.

— C. Wright Mills, “The Man in the Middle,” in The Politics of Truth: Selected Writings of C. Wright Mills, ed. John H. Summers.