COMO Is on the Hipster Map!

Tonight, COMO made a giant leap into the upper echelon of the hipstersphere with the following video making its way onto Look at this Fucking Hipster. I'm just so proud. Witness the hipster genius that made this happen...

An End to the Skinny Jean

It is now time to retire the skinny jean. Along with the poodle skirt, the bouffant hairdo, polyester jumpsuits, and those gigantic black jeans with all the chains that goth kids wear, the skinny jean must go. The skinny jean has had its fun and needs to move on.

Maybe it's just that I'm getting to that age when I see the kids in all their fashion and wonder, "Why in hell would you ever wear that?" Maybe it's the fact that I wouldn't look good in skinny jeans. Maybe it's the fact no one looks good in skinny jeans. I don't know what it is. I just know that it's time for this fashion trend to end.

I've often thought this about the skinny jean, but it never really seemed that important until earlier this week. I was walking up to the 'Tag complex to return some DVD's at 9th Street Video (on Hitt). In front of me was a sweet hipster couple, enjoying their stroll and each other. They were young and relatively attractive. There was at least one ironic thrift store t-shirt and a scarf, suggesting they were into fashion.

Then, as one does when walking behind people, I looked at their butts. It was horrifying! I'm sure these young, attractive hipsters have very nice rear ends, but their skinny jeans did them no justice whatsoever. The male hipster had a sag effect, making one believe that he actually had no ass. The female hipster had a very common problem among women trying to pull off the skinny jean: Her ass looked enormous over her pole-like legs. Neither hipster looked good in the jeans, despite their generally good fashion sense and cool haircuts. It was sad.

And these are not the only ones. The skinny jean has ruined many-an-ass in recent years. Plus, it seems to be spreading.

The problem is that the skinny jean is not for most of us. I fit this category. Although my butt is OK, God cursed me with bowed legs. They're so bowed that my dad used to say. "Comoprozac, a pig could run between your legs and never touch your knees!" So, no one needs to see me in some skinny jeans any time soon.

The skinny jean doesn't work for most body types. If you have no ass, like the aforementioned male hipster (mipster?), you look sort of silly with the combo-sag-spandex-like look. If you have any kind of ass and thin legs, the skinny jean exaggerates the discrepancies, making your legs look like sticks and your ass ten-times bigger. Plus, there are all the other various body types that don't fit the perfect model-type body for which the skinny jean was designed.
Are you muscular? You look like an anime character on HGH. Are you exceedingly thin? Your legs look like twigs. You got a little junk in yo' trunk? It looks like your garbage is spilling out. It's just not a good look for anyone.

There is nothing wrong with your body; it's the jeans. I do not discriminate against body types, only skinny jeans...oh, and hippies, but I digress. I applaud hipsters for making the skinny jean their own while companies like the Gap make it for no body, but the madness has to stop!

Hipsters, you all have a lot to offer the world. Don't cut off the blood supply to your head by virtue of those skinny jeans you're wearing. I understand that you don't want to look like the jackass at the bar in his boot-cut denim or the gutter punk in his acid wash, but come on. The skinny jean does you no favors.

So, take my advice and start a new trend this fall. Drop off you boxes of skinny jeans at the thrift. (The Salvation Army staff will hang them in the children's section.) Grow an ironic mustache...even though that trend died two years ago. Or wear that giant t-shirt that hangs off one shoulder with the matching leg-warmers. Just don't wear your skinny jeans. You deserve better.

Hipster Christian: You're Not the Only One

This post is long overdue and the topic probably has been written ad nauseum somewhere else, but I feel a need to address it anyway. The topic is the rise of Christian counterculture, specifically that of the "Hipster Christian", in the early 21st century. Similar to the Jesus movement of the late 60's/early 70's, Hipster Christians tend to be of two sorts: those who identify as "Christian" within the hipsterocracy and those hipsters sitting in the pews.Three things have made me aware of the Hipster Christian phenomena. The first, I believe, was my sister's friend suddenly finding Christ at the end of high school and later going on to being an art major at OSU (and eventual hipster). The second was the rise of Sufjan Stevens and his ilk to indie rock greatness. Finally, the prevalence of the various sects of Hipster Christianity in COMO added to my already anxious state from moving to Misery.

I remember my sister's high school graduation. Her best friend through childhood was giving the valedictorian speech. She went through this list of characteristics of a good friend. Long story short, she concluded with the secret: her best friend was Jesus. Before this event, my sister and her friend were the odd-ball hipster-types of our small-town, rural high school. Then, her friend had some life-altering experience and traded my sister in for the messiah. From there, my sister and her friend seemed to drift apart.

Eventually, maybe five years later, the two friends rejoined to become roommates. Her friend was still into being a Jesus freak, only she was fully entrenched in the OSU art scene. Her senior exhibit was held in a very artsy part of town the night of a gallery hop (aka the night where yuppies venture to the city for some culture). I was shocked that such a young artist had been able to secure a space in such a competitive part of the art scene. Then, I saw the venue: the rundown storefront-turned-Christian youth "coffee house". I don't mean to degrade her art. It just had "Hipster Christian" written all over it, long before I coined the term.This was about the same time I became interested in Sufjan Stevens. His instrumentation and lyrical prowess is unparalleled, but I didn't totally get what he was saying in his music. My partner, a former Catholic school student, could pick out all the religious imagery of which I was ignorant. The guy really gets into the whole Jesus thing and conflicts with his faith. It added a layer to music that just wasn't there for me. It didn't ruin the music for me, a pure-bred atheist. Actually, it had the opposite effect. The themes and ideas Stevens addresses in his music only have made the music deeper, more complex.

Of course, Stevens is not the only Hipster Christian to which I listen. I have a few Pedro the Lion records lying about. Then there's slowcore originators Low. There's the whole Danielson Famile that gave Sufjan his start. I'm sure there are others I don't even realize, but these are the groups who seem to be out of the Christian closet, so to speak.

In case you didn't know, all things Christian happen in Misery. If you haven't seen Jesus Camp, then you wouldn't understand. There's a lot of Christ's blood running through the mighty Missouri River, fo sheezy. And I'm not talking little, modest, country churches. No, I'm talking mega-churches. Even somewhat secular (albeit raised Baptist) rhet/comp faculty members are blogging about it.

The two factions of Jesus freaks are clearly represented in COMO. There are the cool parishioners of churches like The Rock or...Trees...er...Shiny Things...you get the point. They wear Burkenstocks and play rock music at services. (OK. This does not make them hipsters, but it does make them cool kids who aspire to be hip, hence they have hipster tendencies.) They even feature some of their hottest, hippest members on their TV ads in order to attract those who want cool friends.

Then, there are the more free-spirited hippies and hipsters who also happen to love Jesus. The reason I lump the hippies with the hipsters is because there is a fine line in these here parts. Now, instead looking for the coolest, most obscure religion or even going without religion altogether, these Hipster Christians really set the trend of worship by toting Bibles and praying before they eat their vegan feasts. Now that they have morality, they can enter the next phase of hipsterdom and become hipster parents.

I don't mean to be offensive, I just don't understand the Hipster Christian ethic. The social justice angle that exists in those secretly Marxist Catholics or the liberal-minded Protestants makes sense, but the embracing of hetero-centric and conservative viewpoints seem to contradict what it means to be a hipster. Conversely, is it really Christian to focus on one's image as much as one's god? I don't know.

I mean, can a Hipster Christian be pro-choice? Can a Hipster Christian care about fashion? Can a Hipster Christian like secular music? I've met some that are on both sides of these issues, which doesn't make things any clearer for me.

Anyway, there's a dissertation in there somewhere that I will never have time to write. I don't know that Hipster Christians are good or bad. I just know that it's a phenomenon of the last decade that needs to be explored.

Until then, watch this.

The Exploitation of the Ghost of Daniel Johnston

Saturday night, I found myself in Omaha, Nebraska to see Daniel Johnston. Yes, that Daniel Johnston. The show was at Saddle Creek's venue, Slowdown, within their hipster complex of shops and entertainment arenas near downtown Omaha.After a couple of forgettable openers, Johnston came out to play a few tunes on guitar. The sound almost didn't cooperate, but he eventually began playing. His voice was hoarse and the guitar playing was awful, but the songs were true. A session player joined Mr. Johnston on stage to accompany him on several older tunes.

Johnston took a break before returning with a full band to flesh out his bedroom, tape-recorded journal entries. He struggled to holler his once-personal songs as the band almost rocked like one of those Vegas reviews. This is when surrealism set in.

I began to think back to the documentary about Johnston's exploits that I had seen two years ago at True/False. The Devil and Daniel Johnston told the story of how Johnston craved fame and attention as he created deeply personal art in the form of songs, film, and drawings. All this occurred before, during, and after Johnston's many manic episodes.

One of the most important themes of the film, and Johnston's life was the idea of exploitation. Amidst mental breakdowns and hospital stays, Johnston's music was exploited to sell records (or in this case, cassette tapes) and concert tickets. Anyone from his manager to pseudo-girlfriends used this man's highly-inventive songs for their own gain.

Later, the same would occur with Daniel Johnston's bizarre drawings. He was hailed in the New York Times as the next big thing in "outsider art". His Crayola drawings of eyeballs and superheroes were fetching four and five figures apiece primarily because the man was looked at as a sort of idiot savant.

The film that depicts this artist's life even stinks of exploitation. Somehow the filmmakers were able to piece a narrative from Johnston's own home movies into a story of his lifelong mistreatment. The filmmakers used this story to further their own careers despite their original intent of exposing the world to true genius.

Even Johnston has exploited his own mental illness for his own fame. He found his way onto MTV in order to tell the viewing audience that he had written his album in the midst of a mental breakdown. His heartbreak and mental struggles have turned out to be his most profitable skills.

This brought me back to last night's performance. The show was highly orchestrated to include Johnston's most beloved songs with a Vegas-like showmanship never seen in the underground from which he rose. It was uncomfortable to watch kids gyrate to "Grievances", kids who weren't born by the time he first entered a mental hospital or dropped acid. They probably have no idea what a cassette tape is.

I wanted to know who orchestrated this tour. Who was exploiting Daniel Johnston now? Then I realized it was me.

Well, it wasn't just me, but I was one of many. The caricature or ghost of what was once Daniel Johnston was in Omaha to provide a place for hipsters to be seen. He provided a quirky artist for all of us to claim as our own. He is the topic of this blog post. Now we've all exploited this mess of a man.
The show was memorable but strange. Memorable in that who knows how many more times anyone will be able to see Daniel Johnston live? He is a living legend, the Bob Dylan of the indie world.

The show was strange in its practice and celebration of the exploitation of what Daniel Johnston is and was. Skinny kids who don't know what the man has been through or aging hipsters hanging on to their glory days both clang to something not even the performer was in touch with anymore. Daniel Johnston was a ghost of himself, grayed and misshapen.

Much like his fading voice, Daniel Johnston was a unique piece of American musical lore. The sad part is that he faded, broken and hoarse.

The Hipsters Have It

The hipsters have spoken. They want Obama, and Obama they shall have...

Well, actually, the last time I checked, Clinton and Obama were splitting delegates like Chuck Norris splits heads (when he's not stumping for Huckabee, that is). But, if anyone has the hipster vote, it's Obama.

Look at all the indie rockers backing the Senator from Illinois. Conor Oberst put on an impromptu concert in Iowa the night before Obama's caucus win. Win Butler writes in Obama cheers to Arcade Fire set lists between "Neighborhoods #1 and 3". M Ward has recently joined Oberst on the Obama campaign trail. People are reading Pitchfork for political updates instead of the Times.

Then, there's American Apparel. My friend, Kristen, tipped me off on the new AA ad on their homepage. Apparently, the ultra-hipster-outfitting, no-sweatshop-employing clothier has returned to its political roots and come out in support of Obama (and McCain) due to his take on immigration.

Go to any Obama rally or watch the stump speeches on CNN. You could play Hipster Bingo all night long. I always knew that hipsters were loaded with white guilt, but geesh. (Of course, this could be my problem. I would be the "over 30 hipster" on your bingo boards.)

Whatever it is, I still hope Barack can pull this thing out. Clinton may get the NASCAR dads and security moms, but Obama owns the white guilt hipsters. Now that's a demographic to contend with.

The Year in Music

The end of the year is finally upon us, and I, like every other hack out there, has a self-indulgent year-end list. Of course I would start off with music. If this blog has any running themes or topics, it’s definitely music.

Best Single that many of you probably are annoyed with by now because of all the commercials and air play it’s received: “1 2 3 4” by Feist
Yes the lyrics are simple and repetitive. Yes the video is too wholesome. But, damn, has a song ever been bigger for a Canadian songstress? Close second: “Young Folks” by Peter Bjorn and John
Come on. Enjoy it one more time…

Best song that almost uses a dirty word in the title only to scream it in the chorus with legendary indie rockers backing a soon-to-be legendary indie rocker: “Backed out on the…” by Kevin Drew
Dinosaur Jr backs the Broken Social Scene front man on this happy rocker.

Best cover of a Dylan song (right now): “I’m Not There” by Sonic Youth
This may change tomorrow, but the title track from that weird Dylan movie is a dead-on interpretation. It really connects Dylan to punk in a way I had never fully realized.

Best song that carried a much weaker album: “23” by Blonde Redhead
This song has urgency, beauty, and mystery…all the things the rest of the album failed to deliver.

Best Spoon song that should cause feet to move, critics’ heads to explode, and units to shift: “You Got Yr. Cherry Bomb”
Kiss Britt Daniel’s ass, Poison!

Band that Pitchfork loves that I’ve been too slow to ride the bandwagon but feel that I will take the plunge any day now: Black Kids
I don’t know if I’m offended or aroused by the band’s name, but I do know that their sound excites me in a way the Clap Your Hands Say Yeah did when I finally gave in to their will.

New act that I missed this year that NPR thankfully reported in their year-in-review feature: Taken by Trees
I think I have just discovered the next Swedish Cat Power.

Best band that all the critics love that I’ve liked in the past but have yet to purchase this year’s release: Animal Collective
Difficult indeed.

Best Video – Classic Format: “Elephant Gun” by Beirut
This sad, dance-heavy video takes me back to all those vagabond Brit-pop vids back in MTV’s early days.

Best Video that didn’t make me go out and buy the band’s record: “What’s a Girl to Do?” by Bat for Lashes
Rarely has a dance routine been so expertly executed as in this super-cool video.

Best fan video: “My Body Is a Cage” by Arcade Fire, video by J. Tyler Helms
2007 was the year of green screens and fan videos. I don’t know whether this is a smart marketing ploy or a cheap way to make videos, but this is the best of the year by far.

Funniest video: "Can't Tell Me Nothing" by Kanye West

New dance music genre that will be old by February…I hope: Progtronica
I have had it with anything that sounds like Battles or LCD Soundsystem. Why is it that the hipsters get so happy over dance music that will be forgotten in six months when head-bobbing doesn’t count as dancing? There is a reason disco, trance, big beat, and techno all died.

Best show - Large Venue: Arcade Fire in KC

Best show - Medium Venue: Camera Obscura at The Blue Note

Best show - Small Venue: The Thermals at Mojo's

Best Albums from 2006 that I discovered late and listened to all throughout 2007: The Thermals' The Body, the Blood, the Machine, Beirut's Gulag Orkestar, and Band of Horses' Everything All the Time

Top five albums on my best 31 of 2007: Stay tuned...

Where Do Hipsters Go to Die?

After my night of rockin' with the COMO Hipsterocracy and reading this article about indie rockers populating Hipster-mecca Portland, I have been contemplating where hipsters go to retire, or, more likely to die.

In the early aughts, many hipsters descended upon once-ignored Brooklyn due to its "affordable" rent and cool music scene. Those who did not leave their liberal arts colleges for NYC made treks to Seattle (post-grunge), Chicago, and San Francisco. Some have stayed in their college towns. Wherever they have landed, hipsters have inadvertently caused great gentrification by flipping ghettos into the affordable, artsy, indie rock centers of the urban universe. They have made it possible for gay men to gut and reconstruct dilapidated Victorian homes without fearing that poor people will dirty them or gay bash.

Now, hipsters everywhere are aging. Not since the Boomers' threat of mass retirement has this country had to deal with such a retirement crisis. Where will these hipsters go? Will there be art house theaters, indie rock clubs, and soy chai lattes? Can they supplement their income as greeters for your local art gallery or record store?

The reason I wonder about this is that I am somewhat of an aging hipster. I frequent the same clubs as the Hipsterocracy. I was at the last US Pavement show and the first Village Voice Siren Festival (Can you see my sister and me in the picture?). I've built my own Readymade meat cart bed. I own an American Apparel hoody and retro Pumas. Now, I am over 30, and that's over-the-hill in hipster years. Retirement and death are real concerns for me.

The next step is probably parenthood which will cause me change my lifestyle drastically. If we lived in Brooklyn (which we obviously do not), we'd prepare to move to...I don't know...a quaint, Midwestern college town, ideal for raising families. I'll have to navigate one of those SUV-size strollers through a crowd of younger hipsters in clubs and at festivals. I'll read blogs like Zooglobble for all the latest in indie kid pop. My hipster years are numbered.

So, when I go out to a rock show or check out the latest Jim Jarmusch flick, I'll look at that hipster girl pouring my beer and think, "I bet she'll retire to Portland once her bar tending days are over and hang out with her neighbor, Stephen Malkmus." Or that hipster guy looking all aloof and wonder, "Does he have a 401k plan?"

Like everyone, hipsters will grow old. Instead of our kids complaining about old, burnt-out hippies (well, that will never go out of style), they will go on and on about the old fart at the record store with the really tight black jeans and ironic t-shirt.

So, maybe it's time to consider the end of the hipster era. I mean, irony is dead. Why not prepare for the next sub-culture. Maybe b-boys will make the comeback they have been threatening for the last decade. Whatever group takes the place of today's hipsters, let's just hope that there is a nice place for them (me) to retire...or die.

White Rabbits and the Hipsterocracy

Columbia's hipster contingent was out in full-force last night at Mojo's to see hometown heroes, White Rabbits, return from NYC and lay down their brand of danceable indie R'nB in the barn/trailer/art space last night. The show was so well-represented by all those hipsters you see at shows or True/False that I'm certain these guys will have pictures to prove it.

I apparently have no hipster friends. M backed out due to a new job and trying to recover from a two week bender. My friend from Ohio (now a grad stud in the J school) wasn't going, and he used to go to every show in Columbus. A few of the other guys I talk music with failed to make it out most likely because they were tucking their little ones into bed. There was the guy that showed us the rental next to his house, but we didn't become his neighbor and are not rock show buddies. There was also our former real estate flake-of-an-agent, but we burned that bridge a long time ago. So, I watched the bands and the hipsterocracy on my own.

Who was there? Well, there was that guy (John, I think) who sings old-timey before flicks at the Ragtag. Also, most of the local music scene, including Billy Shuh of Foundry Field Recordings whom everyone seems to name-drop lately. That one woman who's at every show was there. And I think the entire staffs of Slacker's, Ragtag, and Sparky's made the show. Other than that, there was a dude in a Mizzou hat turned backwards. Boy, did he stick out.

I missed the first band, The Narrator. However, when I stopped by the merch booth to purchase a WR disc, I struck up brief conversation with one of the band members. He rounded up the WR merch guy and handed me a free sampler from his label, so I bought some buttons (for my hipster bag).

I finally got to see the infamous Bald Eagle play their ironic metal for the hometown crowd. The band is incredibly proficient and their style covers the full metal spectrum from Zeppelin to At The Drive-In to Van Halen to Queens of the Stone Age. Their only downfall is the vocals. Yelling slightly off-tune just won't cut it. They really need a singer to round out their sound. If they weren't as good at the guitar-bass-drum thing, they could get away with hardcore barking, but they need a voice suitable to their sound. (I should hook them up with my brother's band for a COMO rock show.)

I recently added Velocity Girl and Bettie Serveert to my iTunes then saw them melded into one last night in the form of the third band, Via Audio. They were an eighties new wave-influenced band with polite male/female harmonies over the top. It was good to sway to, but not much else. They were...cute.

White Rabbits finished the night with a raucous performance that had all the hipsters bobbing their heads with a little more enthusiasm. It's too bad that more people didn't dance. WR are in the same tradition as bands like Harlem Shakes, The Walkmen, and Cold War Kids who rock with just enough bounce and drunken heartbreak that one can't help dancing, unless you want to look cool. Overall, it was a triumphant return for a great band even if their hipster friends can't dance.