I don’t know for certain whether the scene is dead. I mean, who am I to make that call anyway? True, I cut my teeth on the classics when they flew fresh off of the presses, but what more have I contributed to the scene besides loyal attendance? The biggest dent I made came in the form of a “thanks” from P.A.L. on one of his releases, and credit for a sample along with Tim Spann of Abfall/Pain Receptor on Navicon Torture Technologies‘ first release on Malignant Records,( if I’m not mistaken), and I was once pulled onstage by the singer of Spahn Ranch during a local show many moons ago.
At any rate, I’d be expelled by now if we were to count on my recent attendance, and it had been weighing on my mind as of late. I’ve started to compile a list of possible reasons why I’ve slowed down, (other than the obvious reason: i.e., marriage):
- The music itself. The golden years of this scene are long gone. That oh-so-new experience of The Sounds, the common fashion associated with The Sound, and the pleasant surprise of following fellow followers no matter where in this country I have lived. The Sound is now the sound, and it’s no longer new. I’ve also moved, and continued to move, in every direction when it comes to being a listener. My tastes have shifted many times over, mainly because the golden years are gone, and because “one thing leads to another”. So the very Sound itself plays a part in my listener-progression.
- The fashion is a joke, but fashion is a joke across the board, regardless of genre. As with any trend in fashion, there has always been a few people who can pull off a particular trend, and then the masses who cannot, yet still give it shot. In recent years, chubby guys in tight clothing; the women with the horsehair platform boots; the guys and girls with the yarn in their hair — I just can’t take it. And I certainly don’t participate.
- Generation Y:: Hipsters:: The Me Generation:: The rebels without the slightest inkling of a cause. Everyone’s a model. Everyone’s a dj. Everyone’s a rock star. The scene is overly saturated with watered down imitations and stagnation. I don’t get the horror thing. I mean, I love horror movies and horror books, but I don’t understand Combichrist songs blessing a list of serial killers. I don’t understand a suburban kid’s fascination with death. Maybe it’s because I’m from the ghetto and lived through enough of the real shit.
In all due fairness, I too am guilty of silly fashion and the initial naivete, but GOTTDAMMIT it wasn’t intentional, and never did I fancy myself a model (too short, hehe), a dj (I’d STILL rather dance), or a rock star (I always preferred/experimented with producing).