I cannot exactly remember which one of us first articulated it, but there's this theory in my house that a decade only truly develops its identity 4 years in. We discovered this after living on a childhood diet of Video Smash Hits in the years spanning 1990 to 1992. It was inevitable, after such a consistent intake of Technotronic, C & C Music Factory and Snap! that we would eventually develop the ability to not only accurately characterise that musical aesthetic but to see its strong links with the late 1980s.

I can't help but be convinced that something changed in 1993, as it did in 1983 and in 1973. With specific reference to 1993, there was an obvious and growing emergence of Eurodance, Grunge and Britpop. Consequently, the 1990s managed to sever those strong stylistic links with the 1980s and somehow consolidated its own taste, style and identity. I mention all this now, because we're only days into 2013 and I'm not entirely sure how to view this decade. I'm not entirely sure how it's ever going to define itself, as other decades have managed to do.

Perhaps it is a preposterous suggestion. Surely, we will soon get a taste of what this decade is and how we will characterise it, stylistically. There are methods of measuring taste, there are charts and dancefloors, YouTube hits and Spotify. There are writers who go on about what is trendy, spouting words like "sludgecore" and "beardwave". Yet, I can't help but feel like we treat the endorsements of the established musical press with a high degree of suspicion. We download from independently run blogs to find one-off songs that are truly aligned to our taste.

I may just be looking for another Beatles, another Strokes, another Oasis, another group that manages to coincide with that dramatic re-invention of a new decade. The cynic in me is uncertain whether it's even really possible to garner up that extreme degree of popularity in a time when genres are so heavily fragmented and obscurity is king. In the case of Psy's Gangnam Style, a video receives in excess of a billion hits does not necessarily equate to a popular song, in the sense that everyone likes it. It simply means that a lot of people have seen it.

Weeks ago, I was at the Face the Music conference when I heard a woman shout out: "But no one is going to remember Gangnam Style!" It was an interesting moment, because in spite of all my reservations about this decade's identity, I knew she was wrong. It is indisputable that people will remember that song, in the very same way that we can vividly recall the irksome refrain of Eiffel 65's Blue. I have to remind myself that it is simply not possible that an era can exist without its own sense of definition.

Japanese Youth in Revolt
Even if our listening practices are totally disparate, even if nothing is as massive as it once was, I know that we will remember those songs which are truly important. I know that it will all begin to make sense with the passing of time.

Cassettes & Chocolate Milk: Indiepop Podcast #51
Health - In Heat (Javelin Remix)
Joe Goddard - Gabriel (feat. Valentina)
Chairlift - Ghost Tonight
Yeasayer - Henrietta
Foster the People - Helena Beat
daXX - RSI Megademo
Washed Out - Belong
Major Lazer - Get Free (feat. Amber of Dirty Projectors)

Download (51.2 MB)

It was brought to my attention that the publishers of the 33 1/3 series were accepting proposals for future titles. The premise seemed alluring, yet still somewhat daunting: the prospect of a glossy, soft cover book devoted to the analysis of the style, content and significance of your favourite album. A book that would be definitive in its scope, a book that would have your name printed on the front cover.

As I passed the link onto friends, we laughed and contemplated the albums we would dissect. We offered up the recordings that we knew absolutely, the ones which have become so thoroughly familiar that they course easily through the veins with every repeated listen. Every solo, every harmony, every lyric can be predicted and yet it manages to induce an unassailable rush of endorphins.

But what to chose? Queen I or Queen II? The Great Escape? The Innocents? Friendly Fire? Logic Will Break Your Heart? Mai god, Happy Nation (US Version)! There's just too much, too much...

When I considered what it would be like to assemble a 40,000 word manuscript, I wondered how analysis would alter my pre-existing attachment to a terribly significant recording. Would I feel that same charge, that same rush of endorphins having ruthlessly dissected every aspect of the creative process? Would such an endeavour interfere (or even damage) the personal value of these recordings?

There are resources available to the listeners who are interested enough to explore the history and development of a recording. There are endless interviews with artists, producers, technicians and teaboys. There are sketchy demos on Casio keyboards which trace the development of a single song. In the instance of the 40th anniversary of the Beatles' Sgt Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, there are even artists who go about recreating the entire recording process. Same studio, same equipment, same engineer, everything.

Tomorrow Never Knows
Yet to my mind, the recording of an album appears to be a largely intimate process. After all, only few were privy to the goings-on of those small sound-proof rooms in North London, New York City and Gothenburg. We can only get so close to understanding the creative process of another person. That understanding seems to be diminished especially when it touches upon the creation of something that we hold in considerably high esteem.

Perhaps I am alone in my failure to imagine the creative process. The truth is that I love these recordings to such a great extent that it floors me to imagine rehearsals, arguments or lyric sheets. Perhaps it is a foolish admission, but for me, it is as if these songs are so perfect that I cannot even imagine them being conceived. Perhaps if I could imagine it, I could believe and maybe even anticipate that potential that exists in us all: the potential to create something meaningful and significant to a great many people.

Inasmuch as I fear the prospect of growing weary of these terribly important recordings, I cannot help but think that the only way to answer this conundrum is to commit to that one album and start writing. I can only hope that whatever propaganda, knowledge or damage that may result will be worth it, and that my words may be strong, truthful and effective enough to faithfully honour these silly songs which tend to mean so much.

Cassettes & Chocolate Milk: Indiepop Podcast #40
The Stills - Changes are No Good (Grand National Remix)
Eugene McGuinness - Lion
Jay Reatard - In the Dark
Ra Ra Riot - Oh, La
Alpine - Villages
Real Estate - It's Real
Sea Wolf - Black Dirt
Sean Lennon - Would I Be the One?

Download (44.7 MB)

"You wouldn't believe this conversation I had with this dude tonight. He was trying to convince me that the Kooks were more indie than the Arctic Monkeys." As soon as he said it, I couldn't help but pull an expression of bemused disgust. It was a baffling thing to consider, the prospect of an actual scale of indieness where some artists rank higher than others. The worst part of it was that I felt compelled to construct a counter-argument, citing the significance of dancingmonkey.com in the early promotion of the Arctic Monkeys. It was a site with white background and black text, featuring a list of links to MP3 demos. It appealed to the idea that the music could speak for itself and the incredible interest generated was achieved independently of record company interference. The Kooks would later post their demos onto Megaupload in early 2006, yet irrespective of the charm of Lonely Cat, the distribution of their demos could hardly be described as a significant landmark in the history of indie music.

When I regained my composure, I asked him how the actual argument unfolded. What became apparent was this person had a completely different idea of what indie meant. Once, the term indie was short for independent, encompassing groups without an affiliation with a record company (or else, groups with an affiliation with an independent record company). However, for this person, the term indie simply meant better. For me, it seemed wildly inaccurate to associate such a loaded term with a single word (and a superlative at that). But then again, I had to consider that for many, the term indie is synonymous with credibility. It is suggestive of being a lone independent artist, creating in retaliation of commercial appeal. The discernible fan, too, is required to maintain a certain degree of credibility. Cultural commentators such as Pitchfork and Flavorwire establish their own credibility by dissecting the term ruthlessly and bemoaning the idea that fashion, cynicism and laziness are killing indie music in 2011.

There are times when a faithful adherence to indie culture can go terribly wrong. The infamous viral video of "I'm Amy and I'm an Indie", from BBC Switch's Are You One of Them? is cringeworthy, to say the least. She comes across as suffering a complete lack of discernment: although she would obsessively adhere to every code associated with indie culture, she would do so without any real understanding of its significance. She would still manage to make some blunders, indulging in music in direct conflict with the indie credos, namely Razorlight and ahem, Ronan Keating. Although she is a rather innocuous 17 year old girl, it is embarrassing to watch her identifying the silly customs of a highly pretentious and highly protective subculture. It is embarrassing to watch her, because her heightened awareness of every nuance of the subculture reveals how indie kids assimilate, silently and without question.


From time to time, I arrest my desire to examine the meaning and currency of this feckless term. I occasionally give up the inclination to argue about it with friends and strangers alike. I even block out the aggressive posturings of the knowledgeable cultural guardsmen. I let all notions of competition and credibility melt away: I listen, smile and dance alone, taking in every moment of breathtaking pop.

Cassettes & Chocolate Milk: Indiepop Podcast #35
Summer Camp - Better Off WIthout You
Serenades - Birds
Andy Bull - Dog (feat. Lisa Mitchell)
General Electriks - Raid the Radio
Asobi Seksu - Thursday
CSS - Hits Me Like a Rock
Body Language - Social Studies (Plastic Plates Remix)
The Mynabirds - Let the Record Go

Download (44.6 MB)

I have always taken great pride in remaining on good terms with my musical past. On some level, I know that I act in cultural retaliation. I do not like it when people diss the bands they used to like, in the same way that I do not like it when people chastise themselves for their poor decision-making ability. Personal and musical empathy is important, which is why I encourage everyone to keep a diary. It's harder to diss tastes and motivations when it's penned with Winston Churchill's pen, with purple ink: 1994-2010.

I mention this because I haven't been getting on well with one aspect of my musical past, Britpop. It may seem a baffling revelation, given everything I've just said, but I have been feeling uneasy about it for a while. For all the genres I do like, there is nothing as contentious, nothing as contextually provocative as Britpop. To produce podcasts on the subject introduces so many questions of clarification and classification. What was once a rolling field for discovery has since become a place where we argue about the purported breadth of the genre.

I understand that if I am to be a purveyor of decent music, I should present it in a way that is true and accurate. Slapping the descriptor "Britpop" on a product generally suggests that said product should contain moderate chunks of actual Britpop. Blur. Oasis. Supergrass. Pulp. Elastica. There is that implicit freedom of showcasing lesser known Britpop artists. Salad. Gene. Menswe@r and the like, but it all seems so insipid to me. Why should I feel compelled to put you through that? Simply because they reveled in the latter-day popularity of the coveted Britpop tag?

Rough Trade West
The prospect of finding a song that fits into the narrow definition of Britpop has put me off constructing that kind of podcast altogether. Perhaps it is the prospect of getting told off by those who know more than me. Perhaps I have grown tired of the genre. In truth, I certainly hope I don't really mean that. It was the genre we once swooned over. We analysed it endlessly and we understood it to encompass far more than that handful of bands in the mid-90s. We saw the tag as descriptive, not prescriptive.

I am not really bothered to make any more Britpop podcasts, not for a little while yet anyway. I'm sorry if this disappoints listeners, but I am not so inclined to promote that what everybody seems to know about already. Neither I am so inclined to include token obscurities to fit the bill. In its place, I will produce a broader, "Indiepop" podcast which will obviously betray my Britpop tendencies but also contain memorable pop from other locales and eras. I do so in a cursory acknowledgement of that thankfully unexplored argument of "what is indie?".

I hope I will restore my relationship with Britpop in time, only because it is important to remain on good terms with it. I don't wish to be so caught up in the definitional issues of the genre anymore, just as I don't wish for it to be a platform to assert cultural superiority. That's not how we should listen to music. For all of the misdefinitions, misrepresentations and misunderstandings, all I ever wanted to do was share good music with you. I'm sorry if it caused offense.

Cassettes & Chocolate Milk: Indiepop Podcast #26
Ingeborg Selnes - Open Your Heart
The Drums - Let's Go Surfing
Indochine - Miss Paramount
Mason Proper - A Chance Encounter
This is Ivy League - London Bridges
Malajube - Montréal -40C
The Chills - So Long
Cut Copy - Take Me Over
The Bird & The Bee - Man
Gyllene Tider - Det är över Nu

Download (49.9 MB)