Image via Rookie
Haven't posted anything in a while, but here's a quick response I jotted off quickly after getting off the plane from Chicago. I legit cannot believe we still need to have conversations about cultural appropriation. It's so fucking obvious.
A few weeks ago, I had the pleasure of attending a fantastic discussion at FMLY Fest Boston about creating safe venues for shows. Part of the discussion involved an intense inquiry into cultural appropriation in music, what it means to appropriate, and how the DIY world can be more inclusive and mindful of privilege and diversity. Few would deny that the underground music scene in cities like Boston and New York is primarily white, with much of the population coming from semi-privileged backgrounds. I am personally extremely optimistic about this changing. It's great to see DIY initiatives working to be more inclusive. For example, the Smash It Dead fest in Boston this May made a concerted effort to showcase bands with greater racial, sexual, and cultural diversity. And as always, the ever-popular Ladyfest does a fantastic job of promoting greater visibility for trans and genderqueer musicians in the DIY scene.
With this in the back of my mind, attending Saturday's Pitchfork Fest in Chicago this past weekend was an interesting look into "underground" music on a mass-scale. Some of the highlights for me included watching Solange kill it onstage with her impeccably dressed band, Kim Deal's husky voiced mid-set banter, and losing not one, but both of my shoes in the pit during Metz's set.
One thing however, I was extremely put-off by. Though in the grand scheme of things, it's small and perhaps insignificant, but to me, deserves at least a passing mention. It was Carson Cox's bindi. The teardrop-shaped symbol was impossible not to notice during Merchandise's set, and after consulting Twitter, it seemed that I was not the only person who reacted with a hearty sigh of exhaustion and distaste. I acknowledge that there are probably a lot of other things that weekend that are worthy subjects for analysis: R. Kelly's misogynistic lyrics (I say this while also admitting that I happen to adore R. Kelly) and the cringe-inducing gun violence joke made during Belle & Sebastian's set. Perhaps a joke about shooting wouldn't have been so ignorant if made at another time, in another city, but in Chicago, where just last year there were 2,364 recorded shooting, the overall number increasing 12% from the year before--that joke hits a tender spot.
You can say what you'd like about artistic freedom and self-expression. I have always been supportive of artists pushing the envelope--hence my undying love for Steve Albini, who has historically been outspoken about his separation of performance from his personal life. However, blatantly taking a religious symbol that is universally considered sacred in the Hindu faith and appropriating it for fashion purposes is insensitive and demands conversation. Perhaps if Cox explained his reasoning for the bindi, if it stemmed from a deep respect and inquiry into the Hindu faith and culture, and the history of that particular symbol, it might be slightly more excusable. But I wouldn't hold my breath for a response from a guy like Carson Cox.
Again, I'd like to say that I had a blast at Pitchfork fest. The lineup was packed with fantastic female-fronted bands (which is always a win in my book), and overall I found the crowd to be respectful, and the energy was totally positive. However, we need to look at the statements we're making when we put a certain performed onstage, and try to make sure that issues like cultural appropriation don't go undiscussed. Mindfulness is everything. If we don't call bands out, no matter how "cool" they are, things aren't ever going to get better. Sorry Carson, your leopard print shirt was totally rad, but your bindi was not.
- Originally posted on Tumblr
With this in the back of my mind, attending Saturday's Pitchfork Fest in Chicago this past weekend was an interesting look into "underground" music on a mass-scale. Some of the highlights for me included watching Solange kill it onstage with her impeccably dressed band, Kim Deal's husky voiced mid-set banter, and losing not one, but both of my shoes in the pit during Metz's set.
One thing however, I was extremely put-off by. Though in the grand scheme of things, it's small and perhaps insignificant, but to me, deserves at least a passing mention. It was Carson Cox's bindi. The teardrop-shaped symbol was impossible not to notice during Merchandise's set, and after consulting Twitter, it seemed that I was not the only person who reacted with a hearty sigh of exhaustion and distaste. I acknowledge that there are probably a lot of other things that weekend that are worthy subjects for analysis: R. Kelly's misogynistic lyrics (I say this while also admitting that I happen to adore R. Kelly) and the cringe-inducing gun violence joke made during Belle & Sebastian's set. Perhaps a joke about shooting wouldn't have been so ignorant if made at another time, in another city, but in Chicago, where just last year there were 2,364 recorded shooting, the overall number increasing 12% from the year before--that joke hits a tender spot.
You can say what you'd like about artistic freedom and self-expression. I have always been supportive of artists pushing the envelope--hence my undying love for Steve Albini, who has historically been outspoken about his separation of performance from his personal life. However, blatantly taking a religious symbol that is universally considered sacred in the Hindu faith and appropriating it for fashion purposes is insensitive and demands conversation. Perhaps if Cox explained his reasoning for the bindi, if it stemmed from a deep respect and inquiry into the Hindu faith and culture, and the history of that particular symbol, it might be slightly more excusable. But I wouldn't hold my breath for a response from a guy like Carson Cox.
Again, I'd like to say that I had a blast at Pitchfork fest. The lineup was packed with fantastic female-fronted bands (which is always a win in my book), and overall I found the crowd to be respectful, and the energy was totally positive. However, we need to look at the statements we're making when we put a certain performed onstage, and try to make sure that issues like cultural appropriation don't go undiscussed. Mindfulness is everything. If we don't call bands out, no matter how "cool" they are, things aren't ever going to get better. Sorry Carson, your leopard print shirt was totally rad, but your bindi was not.
- Originally posted on Tumblr
White people looking for things to be offended about that don't even correspond to their culture
ReplyDeleteIt doesn't matter what race I am, offensive things are offensive.
ReplyDeletei think the point that anonymous is making is this: that whites have always had a history of misappropiation. instead of wasting precious time & effort caring about what some white kid from florida is wearing, it would be a better use of yr time to volunteer at a community center in yr town to help battered women/feed the homeless/help disadvantaged youth get clean. that would be a much more worthy thing to blog about.
ReplyDeleteFair point--but I write about music on this blog, not my extracurricular activities. Sure, some white dude wearing a bindi is trivial, but that doesn't make it unworthy of a passing mention.
ReplyDeleteI remember years ago wearing Krishna beads I bought at a festival because I had some respect for the belief system and, I admit, I thought they looked cool. After a short period of time I began to feel that I was wearing a symbol of something I wasn't really a part of and felt like a poseur. I took them off (but still have them!).
ReplyDeleteGreat blog, by the way!