Is it still called nostalgia if you never stopped caring?
Even pondering this question means you’re getting a little older- moving closer
to that gray templed and elbow patched sweater wearer in your mind. In a larger
context, nostalgia is a signifier that time has passed and popular culture has since
moved on to the next bigger and brighter thing even if your own personal sense
of style, significance and cool lags behind in your comfort zone. This is a
given with nostalgia as it needs that time to come into being, to create itself;
allowing for something to be not only missed but also lamented. Perhaps long
enough for a story to grow, for a myth to be created for those who were too
young or too busy actually doing something with their lives to even notice the
comings and goings of critical darlings, niche scenes and/or seminal albums
that sold minimally at their time of release. In terms of numbers, it seems
that these trends roughly follow the pattern of time set by everything from
classic cars to the Rock ‘n Roll Hall of Fame- 20+ years old dictates legendary
status. In the mid-eighties, the sixties could do no wrong musically. In the
mid-nineties, the seventies had their stink on everything from TV to movies to music. In the mid-aughts, select eighties trends were revived from the dead.
Now, in the mid-twenty-tens, nineties’ seventies bastardizing is being rehashed
for a second go around (looking at you Metz, Room Runner and every other band
that heard about Nirvana as either first graders or as ancient history).
Let’s not fool ourselves, nostalgia isn’t a simple pattern,
it doesn’t just happen for everything (No one is looking for a Zwan reunion, for example). It seems to thrive on things that are both relevant and obscure; spending a time away from the limelight an almost unspoken and
important component to add to the mix. That means bad news if you’re a band that hasn’t broken up
in your prime or fallen out of favor enough where arena level touring is out of
the mix. While financial reward is the silver lining, the rain cloud is that you eventually start to
become a legacy act where each new album produces just a song or two in your
set list (referred to as beer and bathroom breaks by your fans) with the
majority of your night dedicated to a greatest hits package. This would be the
case for a band like U2, Green Day, Metallica, etc. where they never left the
spotlight long enough to be missed. They are ever-present monoliths of classic
rock radio and sports stadiums/bars ruining their legacy year by year and new
album by new album. Don’t believe me about the timing of nostalgia, what do
you think about The Strokes for example? They are not a nostalgia act just yet-
just woefully uncool and outdated in 2014. Give them another few years, say
2020 or so, they will be the second coming to the original fans who want more
and to the next generation who only know of them as past tense (as long as they
follow the rules and stay broken up and off the stage until then). Give even a
smaller act like The Screaming Trees another solid number of years before they attempt
any future shows and they will also reap the rewards of nostalgia. On the flip
side, Robert Pollard and Guided By Voices are currently dealing with the
effects of a watered down nostalgic reunion due to the career of their front
man (aka GBV) who doesn’t know how to disappear (or release less than 5 records
a year). I wonder what will become of a R.E.M. reunion 10 years down the road?
An interesting case, as they would become a reunited legacy act far past their
prime yet still beloved by a loyal fan base. Something tells me we will find
out that answer sooner rather than later.
My musings behind the concept of nostalgia began after a
week that allowed for my body to travel to see Slint play twice in three days,
A Minor Forest the next day and Mogwai two days afterward. Instead of embarking
on an H.G. Wells “Time Machine”-like scenario to the nineteen hundred and
nineties to witness all these acts, I merely had to take the subway and/or walk
down the street. It’s not often you get to see the influential band that
inspired (directly or indirectly) the next two bands on your docket later that
week. Slint offered just that as the quintessential cult, indie-snob band loved
by every stereotypical awkward and angry record store clerk you've ever encountered. A band that
posthumously released its greatest statement, Spiderland, an album so inspiring
and forward thinking that it is credited with creating the post-rock genre of
music. Add a healthy amount of Albini-lore to their back-story and you have a
movie-worthy example of release, discovery and nostalgia of what never was.
(Lance Bangs actually did just that with his documentary Breadcrumb Trail if
you want to check it out.)
Conversely, you have A Minor Forest, a band that reached
middling success in the mid to late nineties as one of the many bands that
helped fill in the musical hole left by Slint after their break up. Ask A Minor
Forest who influenced them and they may spout names like Codeine and Bitch
Magnet (which they did at the show) but all of these bands were caught in the
same tractor beam pulling them into the general musical territory already
mapped and flag planted by Slint.
These influences, known or unknown, are all over A Minor Forest’s
recorded output. They are truly a band with a sound of their time as is the
case with Codeine and Bitch Magnet in their own way as well. Timelessness was
not interwoven into their song structures, lyrics or overall style. There is a
definitive nineties sound and production present that aped the Albini
Chicago/Touch ‘N Go Records model of aggressive punk/math/metallic rock. While
AMF’s two lps (Flemish Altruism and Inindependence) were big records for me
personally in their prime (‘97-’99), there was no time in-between then and now
when their records were pulled out for an additional listen with more refined ears.
They just entered my life again when it was announced they were doing a limited
date 15-year reunion tour based off of Thrill Jockey Records reissuing their
vinyl. What really settled the ticket purchase for me was that AMF’s drummer,
Andee Connors, is a really nice guy. Since AMF’s demise, Andee has gone on to own
the revered and historic Aquarius Records in San Francisco as well as run the
awesome label, Tumult (Weakling- need I say more). While his taste is
impeccable, his record reviews both honest and dripping with a true music
lover’s passion and he responds to emails about hotels in SF from mail order
customers, I hate to say that his own band wasn’t up to snuff in direct
comparison with Slint’s reunion shows that happened earlier that week. However,
as a music lover himself, I am sure that he would take no umbrage with that
statement. Nostalgia had its say in the matter as well, allowing AMF’s show to
be in front of a half full audience in a small venue (Glasslands) as opposed to
Slint’s sold out crowds at the largest venues in Williamsburg (Music Hall of), Bushwick
(The Wick) and the Lower East Side of Manhattan (Bowery Ballroom). In the end,
it would seem time has found the proper placement of these two bands in the
historic record.
Mogwai is a band where many have drawn a direct line of
influence straight to Slint esp. earlier in their musical journey. As banner
wavers of the post-rock sound that found its gel in the grooves of Slint’s
masterpiece, Spiderland, the comparisons seem apt. However, with a career of
their own now coming up fast on 20 years, Mogwai have since shaken that stigma
off with many deafening stadium sized speaker blasts. White squalls of noise
that find their footing long enough to blast deafening roars of power before
coming back down to emotional melodies and patterns. As I’ve stated before, as much
as the Slint comparisons have stuck around, My Bloody Valentine has always
seemed like a more appropriate forbearer of their aesthetic. At this point,
Mogwai’s back catalog is strong enough that they could sit on their laurels and
become a legacy act. Unlike other bands in that situation, they are still
producing great records with an urgency and experimentation. While this
particular date’s set list had more staples than tracks off their new record,
those new tracks were the highlight for me. Granted, “Mogwai Fear Satan” and
anything from Come On Die Young are always highlights but I would have welcomed a complete run through of the new lp as well.
As Mogwai’s set left me with hearing akin to Mr. Magoo’s
sight, I was afforded some quiet time in my own head later that night (and the next morning as well). I realized and appreciated that I had journeyed through the nineties that week with Slint (1989-92), A Minor Forest
(1994-99) and Mogwai (1998-). Nostalgia had been doing a good job with Slint as
they always deserved the chance to play for large crowds at some point in their
careers. In a much different way, it had also done the right thing with A Minor
Forest; a band that was given their chance to succeed during their proper time
and are now a fun thing to do for three middle aged men wanting to take a month
off work to reminisce about the glory days while still physically able. It
would seem that Mogwai is beyond the grasp of nostalgia due to their current
status as a living entity. Don’t forget, they are also something special, a
long standing band that doesn’t live on their past alone with consistently
solid albums in their second decade of existence that expand their sound and
reach.
Upon reflection, A Minor Forest offered an opportunity to
glimpse into the midpoint of the band member’s lives while simultaneously
giving the older me the chance to right a wrong of the younger me who never
made it out to see them live. (Editor’s note- younger me may have been smarter
than the older me gave him credit for.) It was fun to visit the past with Slint
or, really, not exactly “the past” as they continue to be a relevant part of my
present with continuous revisits to their records, the current projects of
former band members and reunion tours now on track to seemingly happen every 7
or so years. As I said, nostalgia never had time to get between Slint and me.
Still, it cannot go without saying they are fundamentally a band of yesteryear
without the prospect of new songs or musical growth to add to the cannon. In that
way, they remain as an unmoving and rigid piece of my past and present. As
comforting as that is, they will never again produce that same spark of
excitement and creativity received when hearing a new song, record or band. In
that way, Mogwai actually has a leg up on the base of the post-rock musical tree,
as they are still alive and kicking. As is the case with most things, living
and having an unwritten future is better than the other option available.
