With various platforms and projects and spaces, maintaining any consistency in posting has (as anyone who actually reads) proven quite difficult. From the outset, we also wanted the site to be about words and the occasional idea. This means that posting requires some source of inspiration and falling into certain blogging traps is a basic no go.

There is a basic danger in running a blog that steadfastly avoids using any pictures. Most of the “good” blogs out there are image heavy, and often employ very few words. When it comes to style, the image is most important. While one can argue for ages the relative brilliance of one stitch type over another, seeing a garment fall beautifully in an image will render any “thinking” useless.

Yet, while the images are wonderful and gladly consumed, they raise questions rarely answered. Who took them? Why did they take them? What do they tell us of a period of time and a particular place?

For the most part, we are looking because an image is either cool or contains a ruthlessly attractive woman (thanks to everyone responsible for posting these images). The general idea seems to be – make this image part of your immediate moment.

There is little examination.

On trend that I’m sure all will have noticed is the joy people have found in posting images collected from the LIFE Magazine archives. As someone who spends hours a week trolling through the Library of Congresses image database, I can appreciated the ease LIFE allows users in accessing what is fairly an embarrassment of riches. The LIFE images have context and a back story, but I must admit to being slightly put off by open nature of the arrangement.

So easy is it to pull images through basic search that the potential of the archive to enrich an understanding of history, and even of editorial photography is lost. There are several bloggers who make it clear why they are posting images – a way of researching their own core interests. As they make no claims beyond this reasoning, I’m not bothered by the re-purposing.

Would I prefer a more critical use of the image? One that places each chosen view into context of the article that it ran with, the year it came to life, and the reason it was chosen for publication in 2009? Absolutely.

This preference, though, is more about what we’ve come to expect from the internet than what people are doing with the images. I’m not bothered by the average use of the LIFE archives simply because I don’t expect critical review of its use.

The opening of an archive is something that should be celebrated and shared. I’d argue LIFE has done the best job of utilizing social media to achieve widespread recognition.

Still, understanding of what LIFE was, is, and does might be woefully low.

The question then is really simple. Do we care about our sources? Or, are we simply content with beautiful images?

I was introduced to my greatest guilty pleasure as an eighth grader. After graduating from a rather childish series of books, I discovered the work of Clive Cussler. They appealed to my interest in history, vague sense of adventure and desire to be a bon vivant. Dirk Pitt and later Kurt Austin, Cussler’s two all-American heroes, are cut from the same cloth as Indiana Jones. Except, they exist in the present and are sadly represented (at least Pitt) on screen by the hapless Matthew McConaughy and not my friend Jed’s favorite male lead, Harrison Ford.

Over the years, even as I have dispensed of most reading material I deem crap (maxim, vibe, the source, and countless others), Cussler has stuck with me. Paint by numbers novels appear with frightening frequency, and hold my interest without fail for the day or so it takes me to get through them. When Sahara hit the silver screen, I was dreadfully disappointed, perhaps thinking that had the movie been excellent, my pleasure would have been marginally validated.

Last week, I read The Navigator. The writing was weak, and the editing worse than my own, but still I turned each page as quickly as the last, and felt momentarily lost in Cussler’s world. I passed it on to my newly teenage cousin, hoping that at the very least, the NUMA adventures would make him fall in love with books as I have.

Customarily, Cussler has provided an escape from an ever growing list of books that I must read. I often wonder- do other people avoid reading by reading? Perhaps so. In any event, I have returned to my stack and am catching up on some much overdue tattoo reading.

Half way through Sarah Hall’s The Electric Michelangelo and I am enormously pleased with her treatment of the tattoo trade. I shouldn’t really be surprised, the book, after all, was a Booker Prize finalist (note: in reading this book, I have decided that I will not review fiction, and rather reflect on it in rambling entries like this instead). The first third of the book cleanly captures the tensions of the apprenticeship system, and even better the unmitigated attraction some men (and women) have to the art.

The appearance of tattooing in fiction has always been a real point of excitement for me. Hall’s book marks a nice change too; it’s well researched and hinges more on human passions than sensation. Hers is a perceptive handling, great fiction, encompassing a contemporary and reverential view of tattooing.

The only thread linking my two recent reads is an emphasis on historical record to drive plot. On the one hand, Cussler’s wild tales heightens the sense of adventure, whereas Hall’s precision underlies her brilliance. In essence, the methods define the divide between guilty and absolute pleasure.

There remains minor anxiety though, as I don’t wish to dismiss the guilty as a blip in my consumer history. Despite less artistic and historic merit, books like Cussler’s are strong signifiers of what punters want, and how they choose to be entertained. As I am a proponent in pushing the value of any item of the past as valued historical marker, I’ve hit a road block. If I privilege some items in my life over others, am I bound to ignore interesting documents in my work?

This will likely be a never ending question of both my intellectual interest and integrity.

Without fail, the matches that come my way are touted as between 80% and 86%. By my math, that is B- to solid B range. Do I want a mate that is merely a good match? No, I want at least an A- (though bra size could sway me to settle for a B+). If my immediate reaction to the thumbnails is anything to go by, I shudder to think how a woman might respond to finding me in their mail.

Would it be like the 8^th grade? Each morning I faced the indignity of walking toward my homeroom via the sixth grade hallway. Each morning I heard the budding popular set whisper “He’s so ugly.” I knew it wasn’t true, but the words still stung. Weren’t these young ladies supposed to lust after the older man? Was this evidence that I had no swagger?

Apparently the latter question rings true in both person and via web correspondence. Very few of my winks and emails are returned. I do find it amusing to send really sleazy emails to match.com girls, and I suppose this could account for the inactivity in my inbox. Also, I never really pay much attention to profiles or exercise any diligence to see if the girl of choice frequently visits the site anyway. I have pledged to exercise greater caution, and use the options with greater confidence, lest my monthly tariff fritter away.

New outlook in mind, I was braced for Monday’s “Your Matches” email. To great surprise, the first pictured lady was touted as a 90% match. Finally an A-! This was worth investigating. I clicked. I signed on. I reminded myself to carefully scrutinize her profile.

All looked good. Until, I arrived at the dreaded turn-on/turn-off section. The turn-offs were simple and clear, tattoos and sarcasm. Bollocks. These are my bread and butter. How can this lady be a 90% match? Where does Dr. Phil get off? The bald git has clearly got something wrong here.

I noticed a genuine attempt at humanity on the profile. “I return all emails and winks.” Ok, I thought, there is still hope that this A- is a true grade and not the type they give at Harvard. Summoning much courage I hit the “email her” button.

To: JLP11907 

Date Sent: December 17

Subject: In an email I just received

I was told you and I are a 90% match. Based on the fact that I am pretty heavily tattooed and you are turned off by them, I find this rather bizarre. But, I am willing to give match.com the benefit of the doubt. I see we enjoy similar things and think that a quiet dinner would turn your aversion to body art (at least on me).

Anyway,

Happy Holidays,

Nick

I know, I know. I said I liked to send sleazy emails to match.com girls. Hell, sometimes you have to switch the approach, act out of character, and see where it goes. As for her claim of returning emails, fucking lies. My damaged soul is nearing the stage of irreconcilable disinterest.

And, so the experiment with internet dating remains a complete waste of money. I have no dates, and have spent more time than I wish to admit looking for provocative cleavage shots. At bars, I always felt leering was something I was supposed to do. On websites, it makes me feel creepy (not on all websites mind you).

Being honest with myself, it’s time for a cancellation.

This year, for the first time, I hold an NBA season ticket. With it comes an increased engagement with the team. Being able to watch the warm-ups each night, and see how the players interact with each other, as well as the slow and steady development of the rookies, all fantastic. A season ticket affords some other activity as well, an opportunity to view and digest the various attempts made by the league to interact with fans and provide a full “Sports and Entertainment” package. By spring, I will endure hours of bad music, will see hundreds of horrendous dance routines by season end, and watch 41 virtual races between a bagel, donut and cup of coffee. Fan appreciation is the name of the game; the benefit is to a slew of corporate sponsors.

Accepting that many in attendance are more excited by the prospect of a free burrito than a well drawn play has been difficult. Yet, my love of the game has not diminished, and I’m able to cast a blind eye to the lame attempts at filling downtime in the arena. A new scoreboard has brought with it new methods of engaging fans, a sort of web 2.0 for the sports patron.

Encouraged by a flashing “snd ur txt,” attendees can offer fellow fans good wishes and spur on the team by punching a few keys their mobile phones. The majority of the takers are obviously youths. Last night I learned that more than a few boys are interested in a girl named Alicia. Apparently she is SEXY, and most of Prince George’s and Montgomery counties want to holler at her.     

This type of user (or fan) generated content is not surprising. Why not use a massive scoreboard to reveal a High school crush? What’s wrong with minimizing the sense of community the franchise has so generously granted?

What fascinates me most is how the encouragement of txt language works in opposition to the leagues chief philanthropic concerns – literacy and education. Britain reels in fear over how texting denigrates English. Reading emails from my cousins who live in London worries me. My spelling was bad enough in primary school without having to learn two written tongues. 

In some respects, it is both interesting and affirming to see how people react to user interaction outside the auspicious of the net. Affirming in that, well, it seems exactly the same — one more massive platform on which to advertise private and inane thoughts and conversations. Interesting, because people are obviously convinced that is what these opportunities are for.

Really, I am in no position to complain. Since owning a blackberry, I converse with my brother solely via BB MESSENGER. I probably waste time typing in full sentences. TXT life is really unavoidable. Researching Ph. D programs over the last year I have noticed a growing interest in Web communities and internet language among the people that populate culture programs. This was somewhat validating, as I didn’t realize that my obsession with such things could be transferred to a field of study. I find it very exciting when things that some deem “a waste of time” (like looking at Niketalk) can be passed of as legitimate study.

But still, there is a tension. If it is fine for the hallowed halls of higher education to discuss txt language and community, shouldn’t it be ok to encourage kids to share their slang with the world? Is there a risk of promoting a basically bilingual writing style (at least we hope that the youth can also pen prose in proper English). Where does responsibility rest?  

In the wake of some really good conversation about web 2.0 (check Vogel’s comments on black lodges), I thought mentioning other ways that people are interacting via technology at a large scale may be of interest. Though I am tempted to rail against the NBA for the text thing, I suppose my real concern is not the messages, but how they can be incorporated positively. No doubt, visitor interaction is the cool, hip, fresh thing to have… the only doubt is whether the higher ups take the time to think about the ramifications.

I am always interested in how pedagogy differs from discipline to discipline. An essay dealing with arts education by Alison Armstrong, struck me. “Visual Literacy: Humanities and the Fine Arts Curriculum” (which you can read here if you please http://www.nccsc.net/2007/8/15/visual-literacy) emphasizes the importance of humanities training in arts education. Education in literature, poetry and history assist in better visualizing thoughts and theories. Armstrong’s ideas (and those that buttress them) are completely valid. There is danger in over specialization! Not only can it be boring, but creativity too can be stifled.

Armstrong mentions artists in history who are accomplished writers and musicians, but does not discuss music as an integral part to of visual art education. If the literary can expand and push thought, so too should music. The aesthetics of streetwear are so dependent on musical culture (rather than music in the strict sense), that exploring the musical connection appears, at the surface, fruitful.

I saw Nigo DJ for the Teriyaki Boys a few months back. Now, to be certain, Nigo competently covers the decks without displaying any real musical genius. However, his musical forays are indicative of the cross pollination of streetwear and several forms of music (often more accomplished than Mr. Number Two). Theoretically, both the DJ and streetwear designer share similarity in cobbling together bits and pieces of pre-existing material to formulate a new sound, aesthetic and cultural product (and BAPE is famous for liberally “remixing”). But, this is not new to either exercise. Ginsburg and Burroughs played with cut ups well before this, happily experimenting while holed up in a cheap Parisian hotel. Here the literary and aural come together, as the rhythm of the spoken words changes with the reforming of each given work. With streetwear, the music and the visual product remain separate, despite obvious influence and suggestions of compatibility. There are, of course, references to music in much design, but it is a visual created to compliment rather than stem from the sounds.    

Music has, and does, influence art (no groundbreaking thought here). An exhibition of Romare Bearden’s collages at the National Gallery was wonderfully narrated (via audio tour) by Winton Marsalis. This connection, between collage and jazz, simply and clearly relayed by one of jazz music’s great orators hammered down a simple point — artists of different mediums are often attempting to use their chosen vocabulary to explore the same ideas. The joy of the audio tour came in Marsalis reverence for Bearden’s work, and sense of shared agenda.  With jazz and painting connections to emotive phrasing can be challenging for people (like myself) who are not cognizant of the nuances in each.

Streetwear, and much of music’s complimentary visual, avoids this problem all together. Rock (and its many derivations) and rap being the two keystone musical genres informing street culture as it stands, allow for literal to visual interpretation. And so, we get lots of lyric inspired graphic, often text based. This has set the standard. My essential question here is: can sound really begin to push and influence the visual?

I’ve been thinking for some time about this, and reached no real conclusion. Perhaps it is fruitless. There are obvious roadblocks too. For one, the idea of literacy as it applies to non-letter based arts. In some respects, it is so much easier to understand visual arts than to understand (really understand) music. Literary, visual and aural arts all intertwine in fascinating ways, and require separate vocabularies for discussion and dissection. The Annales School, founded by Febvre and Block, championed new studies of history focused on everyday lives. Sound was an important aspect. For example, in my work, I have pondered how electricity changed the environment of the tattoo shop in the late 20^th century. Essentially, what people heard, and what people hear, is as important to a full examination of life as what they tasted, felt, heard, read and saw.

Since a vague sense of history (read nostalgia) seems so important in current design, where does that sense of sound history fit in? Above, I identify what we may call the precedents for musical inspiration in visual street culture. Armstrong’s notion of the danger of specialization does not apply as concretely to street culture as it does to arts in the academy. People have broad and diverse interests. They do not, however, often articulate those interests in broad view. The danger comes in narrow thinking rather than narrowly focused efforts. It seems that the wide lens approach of the Annales School could be equally beneficial to design (in the streetwear sense), as it was to pushing history back to the concerns of everyday life.

Let me now attempt to round back to the impetus for this discussion — Visual literacy and humanities education. There are many courses offered in music, and in my experience they rank quite low on the priority of many students. The visual and the literary are privileged, and pop music, especially, has limited appeal to most academics. In reverse, pop music often replaces the literary in street culture. Recognizing that, more creative interaction between sight and sound seems very possible. Promoting and exploring the wonderful dialogue that already exists between music and streetwear beyond the base impact might just be an avenue for creating new cultural forms that some people are starved for. 

 

 

Short burst media figures more towards the personal glory of the poster rather than the enhancement of the reader. In some cases, when my understanding of a given subject is at the bare minimum, this doesn’t strike me as inherently bad. And, obviously, there are blogs I visit just for a laugh. Worst of all, anticipation for new things has greatly diminished. I simply expected to see new things every morning, and be instantly gratified by the knowledge that even though I am wasting my time, I have not read the same thing twice.

Having reflected for a bit on my internet behavior, I discovered that there is only one thing I anticipate. Every Tuesday I eagerly await the posting of the new edition of Antiques and the Arts online (I could get the print version, but to be honest I am just too cheap). More so than the industry news and exhibition reviews, it’s the advertisements and pdf’s of antique show catalogs that get me going. I pour over them, searching in each cluttered photograph for a single type of 18^th century side chair. Every once in a while I will find one, sparking a few hours of deliberate activity.

First, I try to discern from the often blurry image a few basic details about the chair. How is the carving handled? Is there a bead on the splat? I note the taper of the legs, and the treatment of the seat. Following that, I email or call whatever dealer is in possession of the piece, and ask a series of questions that cannot be answered by the photos. For instance, how is the medial stretcher applied? What do the corner blocks look like? I implore them to send better pictures, and graciously thank them for their aid in my effort to document as many of these chairs as possible.

It has been four years since I became mildly obsessed with transitional Chippendale to Federal side chairs built in Hartford, CT between 1793 and 1805. I have cataloged roughly 35 different versions of the style (by that I mean carved by different hands) and traveled all over Connecticut, Massachusetts and Rhode Island in search of answers. I have discovered an enormous amount about these chairs, yet I am still years off from any definitive result. 

There is a point embedded just beneath the surface of that dull anecdote. For all my time logged on the net, I only get excited for something once a week. Everything else comes as part of routine. Part of a method of procrastination I can rationalize because I am “keeping up with things.” Do I need to constantly keep up to date? Certainly not. And, in the past this required far less daily effort.

Earlier in my life, the prospect of a new magazine or catalog arriving at my door was a wonderful feeling. Now, most of the print media coming through the mail is either redundant or simply junk. We all know that topical and current events driven press has lost potency. And, with literally hundreds of websites devoted to my interests, the once fast paced web world has drifted towards that same fate.

With that, I found myself thinking about websites and daily reads. Anticipation vs. instant gratification, a binary that has fueled much other activity. Buying sneakers for instance, there is anticipation in the search (something I take great pleasure in… I have never bought from Ebay), followed by the instant gratification of the purchase (which dies almost immediately). With the internet, unfortunately, the duality of emotion that comes from having both anticipation and instant gratification in a single series of events doesn’t exist. It is either one or the other.

For all the great products unveiled each day, the rapidity of updates can minimize impact. A subtle connection to hype culture, the more ephemeral something seems (even in the sense of its limitedness), the less powerful the impact. Wasting energy on obtaining something that will lose value, perhaps not monetarily but certainly in the “cool stakes,” almost immediately has dwindled.

I mentioned early on in this ramble that my immediate interest in many of the sites has lessoned despite an increasing interest in the subject as a whole. Have I outgrown the media outlets? Am I becoming one of those people (similar to those Jeff finds with music) who “doesn’t give a shit” about popular culture any more?

One may argue that my interest in antique furniture is a little stodgy. A carry over from a nickname “Old Man,” that fell to me during my freshman year of university due to my penchant for waking early and falling asleep soon after 10. Well, admittedly many of my peers in this pursuit are teetering on the grave. Few of those people share an interest in rap music, tattoos and streetwear, so I am sort of an odd man out.

It’s not so much not giving a shit rather that, gradually, my approach to all things has become the same. I used to try and separate my academic interests and personal interests. In school, I felt somehow that drawing my hobbies into my studies (and thus, god forbid, letting my fellow students know what I liked) would hinder my enjoyment of those activities and items. At this point, separation is impossible, it’s easier to just let the brain wander, and the difficulty now becomes how to meld such diverse interests into useful activity.  

Obviously the antique furniture world is strikingly different from streetwear. There is almost no net savvy, for example, or much change. I am far more ingrained in that collector’s world than any other, and thus access to information past what is afforded in magazines and books is open. The differences, however, do allow this assessment of reading habits. What am I getting for my time in each of my separate interests? Where does interest meet information in the best balance?

Almost as soon as these questions took my attention, others seemed to have similar thoughts. Content has, in minor strides, become a little deeper and a little more interesting. There is some fat to chew, always a good thing.

My least favorite sports guy, Bill Simmons, said something I startlingly agreed with a few years back. Basically, he writes long pieces because he wants people to feel the same joy and value he got out of Peter Gammons baseball columns. I love this idea, and while I can’t pinpoint who should be that guy in our “culture” (certainly not me, I don’t have much to say really), it would be great to anticipate something once a week, and be excited to spend a real period of time reading something great.

Some of you know it. To those, you know what I’m talking about when it comes to this record.

But I’ll assume most of you haven’t heard it. That’s fine of course as you all will be quickly trolling What!, iTunes, or YouTube (in that order) to steal download and accept its dominance for the year.

“All My Friends” is a song of positivity; one about moving forward while recognizing how much of your life has been wasting away. All the while, you accept this and take none of it back. What is done is done; you can only move forward.

For me, “All My Friends” was a life line and a wake-up. First time I really gave a shit about the song was in May, while trying to understand how certain components of my life could be crumbling while others were moving forward. “All My Friends” like all prominent tracks in my life served to bring me back to reality. Big ass slap in the face to fuck on.

Thats why I give a shit about music. The impact of the sound to make me care a little more than I did before.

Over the last year, the obsessive part of me needed to ensure that everyone around me was made aware of “All My Friends.” It is not very often that I find any impulse to share music this personal with people, if not simply for the expected reaction of most. Half the time, people will smile with blank response; shaking their heads in a manner that only be described as “accepting.”

Being “accepting” of music by my definition is comparable to saying “Who Gives a Shit.” It is a problem for me. I give people the benefit of the doubt always. As much as I look for that glimmer in the eye of a first time listener to actually get it, click with it, I’ve become more aware that for most, listening to music is background – something that is kept running on loop in order to bring repetitive tempo to their work day or their lives.

People happily “accept” what is being passed to them by terrestrial radio. Accepting to listen to what they play. Boring familiarity. God Bless the hip-hop mixtape for at least trying to bring some freshness to their listeners.

Categorically, rock and crossover rock, has been dying a slow death on commercial radio to classic hits and the familiarity classic hits bring. Classics tend to be defined as any music older than a decade that broke Top 20 radio charts. Classic crossover is so in demand that over the course of the last 5 years it has re-formulated radio formatting, bring us the concept of Jack FM. Wiki that shit for more information.

All the while that radio’s hand is being forced to play crossover classics, a progressive new sounds are being shuffled in and out of Myspace players online. Music is clearly thriving in this venue but I’m not arguing if new music is being heard by that generation. They clearly have the time and the energy to engage themselves to new shit online. What I’m looking to tackle is the everyday, music listener thats my age – the majority of the listening world – this is the consumer that does not give a shit.

Its impossible to not see the similarities between “accepted music” and those trying to re-pawn off bad 80′s fashion to an (assumed) unintelligent consumer base.

Like commercial fashion, people tend to gravitate to the familiar. It is no wonder why everything on the radio basically has the same re-worked beat. Make your own Top 10 list for the year. I doubt most people can even come up with 5 but if they do, they probably draw themselves back to the familiar. Very rarely does some new sound ever surface to rotation on terrestrial radio. Worse off if it does make impact, the music industry will adapt like fruit flies and swarm every last dollar into sucking what they can from it. We’re then back to where we started. Familiarity.

So what the fuck stopped people from caring about music? When did the romance in new music die? Forget blaming MTV and terrestrial radio.

In trying to understand the “who gives a shit” phenomenon with music, you have to try to find a time; a moment in life of people when music does not become important. Most will argue that music remains an important component in life while the discovery and romance dies. Do we blame life in general for forcing us to re-prioritize music or does the mind stop being curious; becoming content with what it knows? That whole familiarity argument again.

How can this be changed? Not fucking easily it would seem. The self destruction of the music industry itself is not helping the cause at all. Heavy rotation does nothing to combat this. In fact heavy rotation looks to actually worsen the average music loving individual from being able to expand to further unfamiliar sound.

My bet is that if you actually gave listeners pure variety on the radio that they would become more honest listeners. People would be more adept to understanding what they like and dislike. Today, they only like and dislike a handful of tracks.

Think of street fashion for instance. Unlike terrestrial radio, we have ridiculous numbers of blog entries blinding our screens with heaps of cotton options. It’s a full on slug-fest as designers and brands battle out to grab the short attention of a handful of consumers. It may all look the same but it is not heavy rotation. The option to pick and choose what you like and dislike is right there in front of you. As repetitive and re-purposed as product is on hype blogs, the viewer is at least able today to recognize familiarity and decide what choices they will make when purchasing.

Terrestrial radio and the music industry as a whole simple does not offer this option to the listener… unless the listener gives a shit – enough to hunt down and find something fresh. Radio looks like a terribly lost cause in the United States. College radio, the traditional vehicle for music discovery seems to remain that last vestige of hope for the unassuming.

There is an energy in caring about anything that is not materialistic. Music cannot be worn as a sign of prestige, but it can impact a single individual and bring them together in ways that wearing BBC hoodies cannot. When you give a shit for even just a moment, you may be able to see that there is more to it than you first heard. You may actually care a little.

Here’s a list of what I gave a shit about in 2007.

A Place To Bury Strangers A Place To Bury Strangers 2007
Aesop Rock None Shall Pass 2007
AIR Pocket Symphony 2007
Apparat Walls 2007
Arcade Fire Neon Bible 2007
Arctic Monkeys Favorite Worst Nightmare 2007
Art Brut It’s A Bit Complicated 2007
Babyshambles Shotters Nation 2007
Band of Horses Cease to Begin 2007
Battles Mirrored 2007
Beirut The Flying Club Cup 2007
Black Kids Wizard of Ahhhs [Demo] 2007
Bloc Party A Weekend In The City 2007
Broken Social Scene Kevin Drew’s Spirit if … 2007
Bruce Springsteen Magic 2007
Burial Untrue 2007
Clientele God Save The Clientele 2007
Daft Punk Live at Vegoose 2007
Deerhunter Cryptograms 2007
Deerhunter Fluorescent Grey EP 2007
DJ Hell Live at Watergate Berlin Apr 20, 2007
El-P I’ll Sleep When You’re Dead 2007
Feist The Reminder 2007
Heartthrob Piknic Electronic Mutek June 3 2007
James Murphy & Pat Mahoney Fabriclive 36 2007
Jay-Z American Gangster 2007
Jens Lekman Night Falls Over Kortedala 2007
Kanye West Graduation 2007
Laurent Garnier Live at The End London 2007
LCD Soundsystem 45:33 2007
LCD Soundsystem All My Friends (Single) 2007
LCD Soundsystem Sound Of Silver 2007
M.I.A. Kala 2007
Marco Carola Fabric 31 zzz 2007
Maximo Park Our Earthly Pleasures 2007
of Montreal Hissing Fauna, Are You The Destroyer? 2007
Pan-Pot Pan-O-Rama Album Release Show 2007
Panda Bear Person Pitch 2007
Pela Anytown Graffiti 2007
Radiohead In Rainbows 2007
Rilo Kiley Under The Blacklight 2007
Rob Heppler, Jeff Carvalho, Frank Rivera WeeklyDrop 2007
Spoon GA GA GA GA GA 2007
Stones Throw Stones Throw Podcast 2007
The Field From Here We Go Sublime 2007
The National Boxer 2007
The Ponys Turn the Lights Out 2007
Viva Viva Viva Viva Demo 2007 2007
Whitechapel True Believer 2007
Wighnomy Brothers Live at Piknic Electronic Mutek June 3 2007

Could it be my tag line, “Moderately Interesting Man Seeks More Interesting Woman?” Could it be that I list my occupation as “Very Minor Internet Celebrity?” I mean come on — socialconsumer.com is massive… at least in a very small niche. Perhaps it is just that I have only uploaded one picture.

Speaking of pictures, I find it troubling that women post pictures up on a dating site hanging off OTHER MEN. Is this supposed to attract me? (I am not interested in threesomes! Of that kind…) I will also judge a lady based on who I perceive them to have been with in the past. Greasy haired dude with striped shirt and black shoes? I will flat out assume she has questionable taste.

Another odd feature of these pictures is vacation shots. They are always of a beach. Do these women ever go anywhere interesting? They always list “travel” as a favorite hobby. They all seem to have been to Italy, the beach and the beach. Personally, I would never list “travel” as a hobby. It seems ridiculous. And, I am convinced that if I list the places I have visited in the last year (Memphis, Vegas, Little Rock, Charleston, Boston, London, Oxford, Atlanta, New York, etc.) it would just make me look like I sell some weird shit.

Most of the women list their drinking habits as “Social, one or two,” and then have loads of pictures of themselves drinking giant margaritas that are in fact 4 or 5 drinks. As someone who has spent the last 18 months transitioning from an antisocial alcoholic man to an antisocial sober man, I find this troubling.

Selecting turn-ons from a finite list has also distressed me. Can I only be excited by flirting, public displays of affection, money, power, body piercing and skinny dipping? Coincidentally, the first time I made out with a girl, she suggested skinny dipping and I said, “Why don’t we just get naked here.” Then we awkwardly fooled around on a lake side dock. I guess that is another story altogether and I suppose skinny dipping means that you are interested in risk taking. In the end, this is a pretty good trait.

Turn-offs are basically the same list. I simply selected body piercing, and then realized for match, all piercing, like ear, is considered body piercing. “Eating with ones mouth full” was not an option and neither was “wears Ugg boots.” The limits of match are indeed frustrating. For body art you can select none, strategically placed tattoo or visible tattoo. Well, in my mind, all good tattoos are strategically placed. The logic behind this wording not-with-standing, it is a prime example of match using useless categories in an effort to define compatibility.

A lot of women list tattoos as a “turn on.” I send them this email, “Hi, I see you like tattoos. I have a big one. Pause. Email me back.” No responses yet. Sometimes I am more earnest and explain a little about myself. “Hi, I am the editor of a hip-hop studies journal and in my free time I write about antique furniture and tattoos.” And, well, that just makes me look insane.

All in all, my experiment thus far with match.com has been fruitless… save for one woman named “Tiny Tanya” expressing sincere interest. Since it took me 3 years to work up the nerve to tell the last girl I liked that I wanted to date her, I am a little apprehensive about internet “flirting” but at the very least believe I can appear more confident from the comforts of my room than I can at a bar/bookstore/coffee shop.

Pictures of food play a huge roll… I mean role… in the streetwear blog scene. Whether just as place holders (as in, I really did nothing today, but I did have this delicious burrito), or not, these photos inadvertently document the foodways of the culture. Food in this version of street culture, to a presumptuous eye, primarily is consumed outside the home and often at Korean BBQ spots.

Of course, that last remark is in jest (people also eat ramen and Mexican food), but the interesting thing for the material culture scholar in me comes not so much in what people are eating, and more in what they are not eating. For all the celebration of various material products of urban life, from graffiti to punk and skateboarding to fixed gear, street foods play almost no role in the documentation youth street culture.

Is something as unremarkable as a soft pretzel too boring, or documenting meals on the run too run of the mill? Perhaps, but, I think streetwear’s association with food relays a secondary, though equally important, aspect of the community. That is sharing, learning and building a base for collective knowledge about the world. Food is truly remarkable in the capacity to share traditions and experiences. In this, the dinning exploits of our favorite bloggers are not only about cool places they have visited, but also serve to expose a thirst for learning among the constituents of the culture that otherwise is not immediately apparent to the outside world.

We all know that not all sneakers are created equal. And, we know this fact is lost on the majority of people. But, in food, the connoisseurial eye streetwear aficionados cast upon other products is more accessible. It marks a group that cares about quality and experience. A group that is somewhat adventurous, at least with what is granted in a typical urban setting (as much as I enjoy the show Bizarre Foods I am reluctant to seek out some of the things consumed on the program).

While I joked about the proliferation of Korean BBQ snapshots earlier, the question of “ethnic” foods figures into a “cosmopolitan” existence. These foods shape the milieu of the contemporary urban environment, where styles, smells and sounds meld into the fabric of city life. Does it mean anything that streetwear and non-American foods are so connected in blogs? Not really. Just further hammers down the global nature of it all and, hell, Korean BBQ allows for good lengthy conversation.

In food, I believe I have learned more about the people in streetwear than from the products they hype or produce. More over, the way the approach to food characterizes the culture most explicitly. To clarify, streetwear and street culture really is about how people look at the world, and, in this climate, the looking primarily focuses on not settling for the average.

Though I am amused that street foods are a forgotten element of street culture in the streetwear derivation, the underlying reason behind it speaks to the value system building in the core community. As I have mentioned before, streetwear is best defined as being in opposition to something else. Sure, the foodways of streetwear culture are not firmly in opposition; instead it is testament to the formulation of cultural signifiers that exist beyond the most simplistic realizations of material life in the community.

Beneath this harsh and sour critique, there was redeeming quality to the experience. For one, like a dull t-shirt company, simplistic artwork helps to qualify the good, better and best of this world. And, let’s face it, helps also to qualify what is complete shit. If the ultimate goal is provoking thought, and the articulation of an idea the most heavily weighed element to judging artistic product, many things on the marketplace are just not cutting it. The democratization of contemporary life gives everyone a sense of possibility, a feeling that they can do things. There also comes with it slacking standards.
The Dadaists pushed the notion of ready made objects. Duchamp, most famously, employed urinals and tools and combs and other prefabricated objects to question definitions of art and artifice. Since then, the found object has played a common, and commonly controversial, role in art. I mention this as segue into thinking about how digital images have become “found objects.”

I began pondering this during my visit to the art show; for despite the relative shallowness of the finished products, the component parts all being located in some way has potential for some future excitement. Salvaged goods are great vehicles for inspiration. The discovery of something, especially when removed from its intended context, can yield new thoughts about shape, color, texture and all the other intangibles that come with physicality. With all the potential for arriving at inspiration via the internet, what is lost in just having the visual?

For example, a few years ago I had some ideas of doing t-shirts based on hair styles through time… profile shots of Anthony Mason, Glen Plake and Agassi. I was planning on putting museum text labels inside the shirt that told the history of the given cut. Then I realized that I would be making something that just looked like all the other crap, regardless of whether the original idea was interesting. In the end, I’m really happy that I never put my stamp on the slippery decline of contemporary fashion. I would have felt like a real asshole.

The majority of streetwear aficionados will probably agree that the mere manipulation of digital images doesn’t equate to winning design. Critique of corporate structure via playful re-imagining of brand logos has lost potency. Even in a clever handling of “C.R.E.A.M.” with recognizable texts, the end result has no narrative depth. As Adorno says people are drawn to what they already understand, but that only makes it popular and not exceptional. This example alone points to the negative impact of the digital age on the “culture.” The simplicity of utilizing digital “found objects” leads to complacency.

A few articles in the spring 2007 issue of American Art (the Smithsonian’s journal) have pushed my thinking. In these critical essays, scholars discuss trends in craft. Defining craft, particularly modern craft, has inherent difficulties. “Craft and the Romance of the Studio” by Glenn Adamson, cleanly relates to discussions about streetwear and consumption. Adamson describes the lore of the studio as a site of pilgrimage for fans and critics. As such the studio becomes a transformative place, where lifestyle overtakes art, and the nature of how someone lives becomes integral to their output. There is some corollary here to the way some shops become a sort of Mecca for sneaker and clothing obsessed travelers. Being able to see and feel the environment from which a favorite brand emerges might help solidify the sense of streetwear “community,” but more so establishes streetwear as something different from the retail norm. The romance of the boutique helps build a (often false) conception of uniqueness.

To return to my central query, the treatment of found objects (be these digital or physical) in streetwear’s current idiom figures strongly into perceptions of what makes it an alternative. Simple usage of found digital images, like in the art show I attended, no longer holds enough cultural currency to denote difference. I believe worthy use of such material can happen, but it will require people who are pushing the standard of thought incorporated into design. The death of a vibrant movement comes when the core energy doesn’t have a discernibly different tract to the status quo.

A second piece from American Art, Edward Cooke’s “Modern Craft and the America Experience,” deftly assesses key themes to push scholarship about craft in the future. In terms of my ideas, the important points are that craft evolves as a social construct, and therefore is ever changing and linked to the language of a specific moment; and that, craft is often not about what it is, but what it is in opposition to. I think these notions are particularly salient in regards to streetwear. How are these sets of jeans and t-shirts different from those sets of jeans and t-shirts? The power of place, as we infer from Adamson, is important, but so to is the strength of classification.

In thinking about definitions and issues associated with craft, the power of the term’s relevance comes in the ability to translate intention to current thought. Trapped in a mire of nostalgia, streetwear is finding difficulty in reconstituting what it means. Just like home art projects can masquerade as art if placed in a “show,” companies can masquerade as authentic in this subgroup by finding way into the cathedrals of the culture. When we begin to champion memories of things that were simply middle of the road, it isn’t just hampering progression, it damages objectives.

It is important to remember that streetwear’s aesthetic and commentary has roots in designing new wearable dialogue. And now that the simple act of creation is easier, setting new standards for acceptability are keys in continuing that tradition.

Final note: Just received Digital Gravel’s 9-20 update. Shout out to Akomplice for illustrating a few of these paragraphs.