For anyone watching mainstream television in this country in the last decade or so, it’s been a pretty wild ride. Some say that we are in television’s finest era, but there’s one major thing being overlooked here:
Nobody in network television is even trying a little bit to make a really GOOD show. Not one. OK, except Firefly, but we all know what happened there.
So to prove my point, let’s get started with game shows.
In the genesis of any truly unique genre of music, there is a clearly defined sound and a clearly defined mentality or set of values that exists within the typical fan of said sound. As time goes on, that sound and mentality may increase in popularity, inspiring sub-genres, spin-offs, and the ever-despised fakers.
Whatever the case, as time goes on and as a given musical genre grows and evolves, it becomes less and less the clearly defined seed of creativity it once was and more a mere root of inspiration that runs through the various offshoots.
It is for this reason that “indie” is the new “punk.”
In its early years, “punk” had definition, both as a unique sonic experience and as a rebellious, middle-finger mentality toward the establishment. Fast-forward a decade or two and things get mighty blurry. Nowadays, everything can be a little “punk” if it wants to be.
Modern mainstream “punk” isn’t dangerous or sincere – it’s trendy and purchasable. True punk never cared to be mainstream, and that’s exactly why it blew up – there’s nothing cooler than someone who does their own thing and couldn’t give a shit less what you think of them.
Enter indie rock. Similar to early punk, early indie rock had a fairly uniform and recognizable sound and attitude. They weren’t in it for the fame and money. They shied away from major labels, or were simply ignored by them, and they didn’t dress to impress. They put out their albums on vinyl – before it was cool again – for crying out loud.
Enter the digital revolution. Pro Tools, home recording rigs, MySpace, Facebook, P2P filesharing services, torrents. Suddenly the means of self-production, distribution, and promotion are cheaper and more accessible. Suddenly major label support is harder to justify. Suddenly, every band wants to be independent.
And so, as with punk, at one time “indie” rock identified a particular sound, but now, because so many artists have latched onto the indie attitude of DIY, we have artists from all genres going “indie.”
A great example of this is Radiohead. Yes, that Radiohead – a band that could sell out Madison Square Garden every night of every day of every year, forever. Clearly not a bottom feeder, Yorke and company are “indie” nonetheless per the fact that they have no major label backing. They do it all on their own. They may not sound indie, but they operate indie.
Then there’s “indie music,” which is where the watered down nature of the term becomes most evident. Let’s see… there are indie bands that don’t play indie music (Minor Threat or Reel Big Fish), bands that play indie music that have major label support and thus are not truly indie (The Shins or Manchester Orchestra), and then you’ve got Sufjan Stevens, who is an indie artist who plays indie music.
But then again, what the hell is indie music anyhow? A particular sound defined by some elite panel of hipster judges? It’s easy to see why musicians themselves eschew genres, since a band can be defined differently depending on who you ask. Take Wilco. It can be called indie, folk, rock, country, Americana, or even pop. Are any of them entirely wrong? Are any of them entirely right?
Any of those genre adjectives could mean a number of things to different people. They’re just vines of inspiration, winding in and out of various bands down through the years, and as time goes on, they thin out. It’s incredibly rare that a new band goes so far back to the roots that it is inarguably definable – both in sound and attitude – as that core, source genre. They still exist – dyed in the wool punk and indie bands – but surely they themselves cringe when attempting to explain their place in the musical spectrum, knowing full well that their hard-earned, well-deserved adjective is nearly meaningless to anyone else. And it can never go back.
We live in a world where Avril Lavigne has been called “punk” and “indie” bands can go platinum overnight by popping up in an Apple commercial. And there’s not a goddamn thing the hardest of the hardcore or the indiest of the indie can do to change that.
Indie is the new punk. But hey, it was a fun ride while it lasted.
At first, I thought Camel Crush cigarettes were the most ridiculous marketing ploy of all time – regular cigarettes that can “click” over to being menthol. The “click” ball mechanism just seemed like a fad innovation that would fall flat after everyone got that first click out of their system. I imagined the mental process going something like, “Wow, that’s pretty cool…but I don’t like menthol, so I’ll keep smoking what I normally do.”
I was so wrong.
I made the mistake of assuming, like most people have, that “regular” cigarette smokers and menthol cigarette smokers were two totally disparate groups. Look folks….it’s the year 2009, Martin Luther King Jr. has his own holiday, and we have a black president, so I think it’s finally safe to talk openly and honestly about this – we all know what demographic is most strongly tied to menthol cigarettes; black people. Before you go and assume I’M racist, just take a look at menthol cigarette marketing/advertising. The tobacco companies know their demographics.
OR, maybe they CREATED (or reinforced) these demographics, and the cultural/flavor dividing line has stayed strong ever since. Is there really anything inherent to black folks’ taste buds that make them like menthol more than non-whites? I strongly doubt it, and my guess is that once the “black people smoke menthol” notion took hold, self-conscious whites started settling for regular cigarettes. They just weren’t Kool enough for menthol.
Then along comes Camel Crush, a “bridge” product in the guise of a gimmick that allows white smokers to enjoy the perks of “black cigarettes” without having to outright buy a traditionally “black” brand. It’s absolutely fucking brilliant.
Here’s a fun test: Next time you see someone smoking Camel Crush, watch to see how soon they break the menthol ball in the filter. My guess? First 5 drags, if not right away. This means they bought Camel Crush to have menthol cigarettes – not just to have the option. The “option” just took away the guilt and awkwardness that would have come from buying a straight up pack of menthol.
Now, if the Camel Crush revolution has claimed you as a victim, you could get angry, feel manipulated, and turn your sights on Camel, screaming something to the effect of, “You dirty bastards! You tricked me into liking black people cigarettes!” (unless you are black, in which case, you’ve always been cool enough for menthol, so fuck you).
OR
You can thank them for bringing two supposedly disparate demographics together! In fact, when I first heard about Camel Crush, I thought a funny tagline would be something like, “CAMEL CRUSH: BECAUSE WE ALL HAVE AT LEAST ONE BLACK FRIEND,” but as it turns out, the reality is that there’s a menthol-lover/”black person” inside many of us, just dying to get out and smoke a menthol. It’s one thing to break down cultural barriers between two groups or individuals…but to smash the walls that exist INSIDE a person? Wow.
Hats off to you, Camel. For all the undeserved shit you get from morons who think it’s not already obvious that inhaling combusted leaves is less than healthy for you, you’ve done the world a great service here.
Thank you for tricking us into being better, Kooler people.
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