Capitol of Indierockistan

Seattlest feels dirty (not in a good way) after reading the Oxford American's article on indie rock and Seattle.

Bill Wasik's piece about indie rock and the blogs and radio stations who love them revolves around Seattle and KEXP. He frames us as the first city of indie rock, which, first of all, doesn't seem right. We have a decent amount of indie-type bands and some clubs and Capitol Hill, but... do you think we're the capitol of the Indie Archepelago? It's hard to imagine that you do, if you live here. How about Portland? How about Austin? How about Brooklyn? How about all those fey Scandonavian places that knock out cute and trendy in tight jeans faster than a Chinese factory produces killer toys?

Normally, it wouldn't be a title we'd shy away from, even if we knew it wasn't strictly the truth. We love the indie rock. We love Seattle. Why not claim the crown and lift KEXP up onto our shoulders? Because after reading this article we're feeling like we're being had by someone, but in this case "someone" is Pitchfork, KEXP, "the blogs" aka us. Can we swindle ourselves? It feels like someone's being exploited, but who, and by whom isn't entirely clear. The piece emphasizes Indie rock's need for the new in favor of the existing. There always has to be a next, new thing, immediately on the heels of the last, next, new thing. Indie rock has climbed the ladder of disposable artists and displaced hip hop at the top of the pile. Fuck a second album. We don't want to hear it.

Here's John Richards of KEXP in the article:

But why did so many of these bands disappear? What about the second album, or the third? Why did indie rock seem to have become wave after wave of disposable new bands? "You have these bands working really, really hard, they're writing great songs, they've had five years maybe; and their best material is going to make it on their first album," Richards said. But then, he went on, "you have a label involved at this point, you have deadlines now—another album in six months, nine months."

Richards said he now assumed that he would not even see second albums, no matter how good their sound. "Even an Annuals," he said. "I'm not even thinking about a second album from them. I just assume that this is the document that I have.... You think: 'This is a great movie—I hope there's not a sequel.'"

But Richards acknowledged that he and the other indie-rock tastemakers bore some share of the blame. "A big deal with us is discovery," he said. "And you're discovering not just a song; you're discovering a band. When you're just discovering a second album, there's not as much hype involved."

Ah, well. __your_favorite_band__'s first album wasn't actually all that great anyway.