I am not one to judge a hipster by its cover. I don’t assume that you are one, either. But as a society, we’ve begun to profile these fixed-gear bike jockeys, and we’re using our sense of disdain to fuel a reliable stereotype. It tears me up because there’s so much lost in the translation. Put simply, I think it’s a sub-culture like any other, and I would be no more inclined to disrespect a mime for his face paint than I would a hipster for their ten-pound beanie. But I’m going to take this opportunity to voice some of my ideas on the matter, because one way or the other, “hipster” is a part of everyone’s vocabulary now. No one can avoid the ubiquity of its lensless, thick-framed gaze.
This culture’s worst tendencies are derision, self-importance and a fierce devotion to all things ironic. My worst visions of hipsters are of rich kids excitedly mocking a society they do nothing to support, whiling away their time ridiculing and turning their friends on to Kombucha. But they’re really no worse than any other person who spends their time just as pointlessly.
It’s of no critical benefit to criticize them and spend time demeaning their ways. I think where I feel a legitimate frustration is when I see hipsters mistaking their tastes for…well, good taste, and running off with the idea that they now possess a superior perspective on art.
We all have some artistic ability, and how and when we choose to use it is one the most wonderful things about living life with eyes and ears. It’s equally awful to see someone inflating their ego and focusing their social life on their personal brand — it cheapens their work, and in most cases makes the person as annoying as the sound of their carabiner keychain.
The thing about pretension is that it comes from the ones who, for all their dedication, understanding and sunglasses, lack the one thing that really counts in good art: talent.
I think it’s important to realize your inconsequentiality in the world of expression. While you are, on the one hand, always a worthwhile contributor, talented or otherwise, that does not entitle you to a higher social status or a crew of dickless sycophants. When making art you are, at best, an artist, and at worst, a poser. The extent to which you become false in the pursuit of recognition is how most people become unaffectionately labeled hipsters.
On the positive side, I do hold the hip in high regard for how well-informed they are. I have a lot of respect for anyone pushing the boundaries of their particular field, developing the truly new ideas. Conversely, I don’t see much appeal in re-hashing the retro, trying to appear as though you live in the 1890’s with an iPhone.
I don’t judge that aspect of the sub-culture for its message; I judge it for how annoying it is. I am all about alternative energy and eating well, spending time with friends and reconnecting with nature. But for God’s sake, let’s not act like we are the only ones in touch with that. If one more crusty, conceptual tea-drinker tells me that drum machines don’t have a soul, I will take his take his combo Bob Marley/Bob Dylan song book and bury it in microchips.
Not hating on the Bobs, just saying, we shouldn’t build or encourage a culture that uses the tools of modernity to mock the user.
This brings me to a more personal point. Whether you are a hipster or otherwise, I am quite proud of my generation. As harbingers of the Information Age, we are truly developing as a more globally aware counterpart to previous generations. The advent of the Internet has given us a powerful means to explore ideas, and I see a lot of positivity in it.
Of course, there’s going to be some dude with a pocket ukulele who will tell you that it’s evil; Facebook is harvesting your identity and removing you from reality. That would be true, except it is a part of reality now. The more we go on romanticizing about a simpler time, the more we lose sight of the wonder at hand. I think.
It may be obvious now that I am chastising only a handful of people within a relatively small sub-culture.
What of the other ones, the soul-less MP3 DJ’s who troll blogs and play train wreck sets of “bangers”? What of the giggling brigades of two-dimensional sluts who text each other gossip from across the room? What of the modern media child, flailing about with their nose in a screen with no attention span left to lose?
But I don’t mean to indict the masses on something that is, as noted, simply a part of the modern reality. I’m just expressing myself.
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I think there are a lot of questions about hipsters and what qualifies people as being hip(sters). I’ve probably done nothing to help answer those questions. That’s because I don’t know much about it myself. It’s hard to know why some things are popular.
Sometimes it’s easy to know why. The hipster, or in this example, the hippie-ster, values the image of the counter-culture and the customs of indigenous populations worldwide, because they are “legit” or disown the popular customs of Western society.
They use that image to play a part, without dedicating themselves in the slightest to its true teachings. I’m talking to you, dreadlocked guy at McDonald’s or girl with confusing array of cultural tattoos. You make the world hate Sublime.
It is my experience that no one can disguise their true attitudes, regardless of how chill and “down to earth” they tell you they are. Are they chill? Do they like to chill? “Don’t ask;” they’ll tell you. Their style is the most important feature of their otherwise dull life, and their chillness is just a popular excuse for being self-conscious and boring.
And if you’re going to be self-conscious and boring, well, welcome to the club. Just please don’t try to convince me otherwise by knitting your own hat and wearing ironic statement tees. Don’t assume that the transparency of your coffee-shop acoustic fiddlings is lost on the real world. We are all aware of its vanity and how terrible it truly sounds.
But hey, who am I to talk? Honestly, I am one of them, scorning happy people for stylistic choices. I am strongly opinionated on something I don’t know enough about. I too contribute nothing with my gibes and nut-crunching criticism. But I do it with style, and that, after all, is the most important part.
