Oh, Steackcharmer, you long-neglected provider of sweet ventilation, how we've let you languish. What brings me back to you is not a criticism of the media, per se, though it does tie closely to a certain chromosomally-challenged maven of local buffoonery. Once again, they've opened a window onto a scene of such cultural ignorance that I'm nearly at a loss for words.
"Oh my god, Blaine. They're playing Billy Idol. Punk rock is so awesome!"
That's not to say I'm particularly surprised at the feeble attempt at nostalgia-chic that is the "Punk Revival" at a local rock-themed bar or the lame dildos that took part. To the contrary, this is exactly the kind of low-rent minstrelsy that the douchelords of society have always enjoyed. Americans have a rich history of appropriating the art or music of a marginalized subculture and repackaging it as ironic entertainment. I'm less offended by that than I am by just how little effort these clowns even put into the whole thing. What, they couldn't be bothered to dab on a little blackface? I'm not asking for authentic patches or those weird butt-flaps or anything that might get them mistakenly beaten up by some of the other 4th Street patrons. Some safety pins would have been fine. At least "Sara Wilson wore pink fishnet stockings." (Ah, so it is, in fact, a punk revival: fishnets!) Of course, they would have to stay within the dress code of the club, which I've learned is "Rock chic, trendy, or casual. No athletic wear." Will they relax that last rule when the inevitable hip-hop revival comes around? I mean, since we're reviving things that aren't dead, surely hip-hop is just around the corner.
"Oh man! Do you remember when this song came out? Dexter Holland is the coolest punk star! Keep 'em separated! Cool!"
Making fun of these goons is easy and entertaining, but there is a (somewhat) serious critique buried here somewhere. I'm not going to go on about what is punk or what isn't, because that's beside the point. It just chaps my ass that the people enjoying themselves at this event are so ignorant of the culture they're using for the night's entertainment that they can't even play to stereotype or be bothered to learn what those stereotypes might be. It's as if our culture of appropriation has gotten too lazy to even appropriate anymore. Considering these are likely the same folks turning to fine publications like Velocity to get their weekly dose of culture, I guess it should be expected.
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