CMJ this year was a bit more laid back for me than usual, with less client, photography, and friend obligations than in the past, meaning I had more freedom to run around and see what I wanted as I pleased. I managed to catch The XX again, twice — check out above the most feed-back free youtube video of one of last week’s performances I could find. My boyfriend and I have had a conversation about 47 times about how we think The XX and Fever Ray are probably the only two records this year that we really, really loved. And so, being unable to do anything without constant hyperactive metanarrative, I keep trying to figure out assorted reasons why precisely I think this band is so awesome.
Before we get into anything, let’s admit that much of my iPod is white-boy indie rock (there’s no dislike for many of the bands mentioned here) and that I am specifically talking about precisely that genre. And let’s also put out the disclaimer there that I know this disregards complex analyses discussing hip hop vs indie rock and all kinds of issues surrounding race and music, the band’s self-proclaimed R+B influence and penchant for covering artists like Aaliyah means that the cultural/racial aspect of this can’t be denied either. Which also raises more uncomfortable questions about racial/cultural fetishization… as well as bringing up other issues such as white artists covering - and thereby making commercially marketable - songs by minority artists in the early days of blues/jazz… and its inverse in the segregation of the music industry into ‘rock/pop’ and ‘urban’ as argued somewhat questionably here by Sascha Frere-Jones.) So let’s put ourselves in a useless, hypothetical vacuum of American college radio bands, and The XX.
When we’re talking about “indie rock,” it’s difficult to not acknowledge that most of it is clean and sterile and, well, waspy; it’s a bunch of overeducated rich kids feeling sad and anxious about everything, deconstructing and analyzing their role in the universe (uh, Arcade Fire?) or reflecting cynically on boredom and indifference (‘sup, Wavves?) or bemoaning dirge-like on illness and life (hey Antlers, Bon Iver) or musing quasi-poetically on some Americana bullshit with no personal or intellectual meaning (Fleet Foxes, anyone?). Let’s pretend that all stands alone in the universe and disregard all possible racial/cultural/genre commentary (we could and maybe should write a few dozen dissertations on sex and gender and race in music, I’m sure) — fact is, “white boy indie rock” is largely desexualized, depersonalized, overintellectualized, and far, far too self-aware. What do we have for songs about relationships? Get Up Kids records hidden under the bed? Some hip hop or pop record we despicably brag about liking to appear diverse and quirky?
The XX (to quote infinite terrible reviews which probably just basically re-hash their press release) write ‘stripped-down minimalist pop songs’ with ‘an R+B influence.’ Which mean they’re based on slow grooves, simple hooks, and alternating male-female vocals with primarily cheeseball relationship and sex references for lyrics: “I am yours now / so I don’t ever have to leave… I’m froze by desire” or “Maybe I had said something that was wrong / Can I make it better with the lights turned out?” or “If you want me / why go? / I can give it all on the first date.” Too straightforward and blatant, maybe, but oddly refreshing — no concerns here about little gods turning every good thing to rust, or blood banks or cancer hospitals. These are simple, catchy songs about doing it, or wanting to do it, or having feeeeeelings about people you may or may not do it with — appealing primarily to an entire generation and audience trained to have a panic attack or three when any of those concepts come up. And I think that’s pretty awesome.
