Adventures of being Black in an 'alt' scene...

The topic itself has come up in my mind, but it never really sticks there. However, it took a podcast I listen to regularly (’We Have a Technical’) to make me reconsider the subject. The title may seem extreme, but I hope to explore it so it would show why I used the word. 

The podcast itself mentioned darker alternatives to music outside the Goth/Industrial scene. It feels like the scene has imposed an embargo on exploring any outside music that doesn’t fall into whatever rubric some have on the subject. It really isn’t like Goths and the like have the market cornered on distorted synths and spooky mumbling through a mic. You wouldn’t know it at times, but moving on. 

What do I feel keeps people away? The idea of genre purity. It’s amazing to think that a genre can feed on itself and expect innovation when it can be compared to an ouroboros. The distancing between scenes and an almost dogmatic devotion can be harmful. It staggers progress and doesn’t excite the mind as much as it could. It becomes same old, same old. There is a lot out there that we can learn from and expand into. 

I’ve been going through the book “What Are You Doing Here?” by Laina Dawes, and lately, I’ve been highlighting and nodding at more parts than I thought. One particular part stuck out to me during my reading down time. There was a section speaking about being the only Black person at a metal event and when you happen to see another Black person, you almost feel safe. I can assure you that I’ve felt that way before too at industrial shows. And there’s another thing that was mentioned as well: there’s a weird thing that happens when there’s another Black person in a predominately White setting. It almost becomes quasi adversarial.  I didn’t put two and two together until I read that, but I have honestly felt that way at a few shows. You would think if there is someone else that you can commiserate with, you’d feel a little safer. But for some reason, it’s like you feel jealous and suddenly have a very anti-Black moment and say ‘why are they here?’ It’s an ugly thought and I’m ashamed of it, but at least in my older age, I can spot it and realize how trashy it is. I think I figured out why I felt that way and it’s no less shameful. It goes along with the whole idea of feeling inherently special when there’s honestly no call for it. 1 Black person = oh, that’s pretty cool. 2 = I guess that’s alright. 3 = oh shit it’s a gang. (the last one has been a running self deprecating/harmful joke) I can tell you, it’s a bitch deprogramming your mind from that. Example: I’m part of a music group on Facebook and decided to show off a shirt I had bought from one of my favorite bands. People liked the picture, so no huge deal at first. Then, a dude flips out and declares that ‘A Black girl into industrial music is like a unicorn’. Yeah, like that isn’t creepy AT. ALL. At one point in my life, I would have luxuriated in that praise. And it’s shitty. It almost feels like I had to choose between being anti-Black and toss Black folks under the bus or shoulder the title of being ‘model minority’. Either way, it doesn’t feel good. Which brings me back to the original feelings of contention. It came down to those feelings. It never occurred to me at that time to just enjoy the bands I came to see and just chat up the other Black person in the room. For all I know (now), they could have been scared shitless for being in a room of what could be considered Schrodinger’s Racists. I was really acting no better than the gatekeepers that like to deem what’s acceptable scene wise. 

Earlier this week, I received a crash course in what the industrial scene is capable of in sheer volumes. There was a news article released saying that Kanye West was planning on doing a David Bowie tribute album. Personally, I thought nothing of it since Bowie’s influence reaches far and wide regardless of genre. Industrial folks rose up seemingly en masse and shouted it down as a travesty, calling it disrespectful, etc.

For what it’s worth, the article was found to be fake later on in the day of its release, but it didn’t stop the opinions of how horrendous of a person Kanye is and how he shouldn’t have the nerve to even touch his music. I rolled my eyes and went about my business. Now here is where it just went sideways. The next day, a petition was circulating for Kanye to not do a Bowie tribute album (even though the story was unfounded.)

Really? Is the very idea of that so appalling that it needs to be put down in some very questionable ways? I admit, I’m a casual Kanye fan at best. I enjoy his work and yes, I can acknowledge that he can be problematic at times. But if your biggest complaint about him is that he’s a braggart and should humble himself? That’s questionable within itself.

“But Kanye is so disrespectful! He’s bringing down music! He’s objectively terrible!”

Okay; just because your little pocket of friends all agree doesn’t mean everyone agrees he’s shit. Also, demanding for someone to humble themselves when other artists are out here with zero production credits are bragging like they’ve come up in the world is just suspect. As a side note, it’s very possible that they hate Kanye’s persona and feels it’s indicative of who he really is. In a scene where people can slather themselves in grease paint, gas masks and questionable borderline Nazi paraphernalia and consider it a stage persona can’t get that. Yes; everything in rap is super serious, you guys. The cars, rims, mansions, the popped bottles; all of it. 

Apart from my bad attempt at sarcasm, another point can be brought up. I’ve found that in this scene, rap music has been taken to task on its content repeatedly (misogyny, homophobia, etc.) but if called out in industrial? Apart from the few pockets of dissenters? Hardly a peep. Allow me to use some hood vernacular with this: Take care of home first before you wanna start duffin’ folks out for their shit. If you wanna get folks out the paint so damn bad? Use that clout where it counts. Misogyny in industrial? Get ‘em out. Neo Nazi bullshit? Get ‘em out. So on and so forth. 

However, back to the point: Kanye and Bowie. David Bowie was all about cross genre music. He went on MTV and pointedly asked why there was a lack of Black artists on their network. So to have the temerity to speak on his behalf when he was all about equal rights is arrogance. Ask yourself this; if it was any other artist, would you have the same reaction? Or would you say that this is okay, acknowledging that Kanye in your mind was somehow a dangerous thought. There are so many awful covers of great artists and no one is writing a petition to get them to stop. Music is not a sacred thing; it’s something that’s shared between all of us and if you feel the need to protect the so called purity of a genre, you are definitely not helping. At all. 

I did a few blog entries about the whole being a Black face in a predominately White place, but after watching this movie, it actually got me to thinking a bit more about my experiences in counter culture environments. I don’t intend for this to go over as a ‘woe is me’ type thing, but it feels like I got hit with a delayed okey-doke in a way. When I first got into different music, I didn’t feel all that welcomed in the Black community. To be honest, there wasn’t a huge feeling of community in school anyway. I got into alternative/grunge because of a boy (dumb reason), but it did open a whole new world view for me. 

And unfortunately, it came with other fostered behaviors that shaped my mindset. This is what most people refer to as the ‘Special Snowflake Syndrome’. I inadvertently became the ‘cool’ Black girl that the White kids wanted to know. It’s an easy enough pitfall to experience, especially when the initial attention you’ve received always verged on the negative. With that, my mind was being gassed up with thoughts of ‘not being like the other girls’, etc. That’s when the anti-Blackness was seeping in kinda bad. 

It seems that with some White people, if they feel they have a token Black in their proverbial corner, they feel a bit more comfortable showing off their casual racism. I’ve also found that it comes from some of the most liberal minded folks. Which often makes it even worse. However, not knowing any better, I went along with it. I became the figurative Rolodex on what would be considered ‘Black culture’ and when something terrible happened involving Black people, I was appointed the unofficial spokeswoman for the Black race. 

I think back then part of me enjoyed the attention. It was negative attention but I wasn’t able to discern between the good and bad. Slowly but surely, I thought I was better than other Black people. It didn’t help that the feeling was reinforced by other Black people I met that found my music taste and subsequent lifestyle change into Goth was less than normal. It was often supplemented with statements like ‘demonic,’ ‘Satan worshipper’, etc. The more that happened, the less guilt I felt with disassociating myself from other Black people. It grew over time: bullying in school, passive aggressive statements out of school and in club situations, etc. Before you know it, it became one hell of a self-hate spiral disguised as false self esteem. It took years to realize how much I hated myself, and it was pretty sad.

I was messing around on Facebook and I ran into some things that both Matt Fanale of Caustic and Alex Reed of Seeming had mentioned. It had to do with interviews given by music magazines and other online scene sites. Caustic mentioned that a question he’s received is “What challenges do you face as a white guy in this genre?” Alex Reed had mentioned some other standard questions that have lost traction over the years. I had mentioned that very one in passing and he agreed that it was one that had lost it’s merit. 

It got me to thinking about that question in general. Why would that be a taboo question? I have a probable theory in regards to it. In the industrial scene, it seems rather homogeneous: white guys. Sometimes there are bald white guys, but that’s another running joke for another day. There are women and other PoC in the genre, and I’m sure the question has come up at one time or another. However, when should it be used if at all? 

If an artist has a formative experience that pertains to said question, it’s quite possible that the artist will bring it up without significant prompting. On the flipside, if you are interviewing a rather prominent artist that has well documented experiences, you owe it to yourself to look these up and avoid the beaten path. Always do your research, folks. The interviewee will thank you for it.

Think back to a concert you attended; could be a current one or a favorite that sticks out in your mind. Now the bigger question: do you remember the opening band at all?

If not, that’s a bit of an issue. Granted, most go to local and out of town gigs just for the headliners alone, but the openers are just as important. They help in setting the tone for the overall gig and gets the crowd hyped for the main act. If they do their job correctly, the openers can add to their fanbase. On the flip side, if the band bombs outright, the repercussions are small but memorable in the worst ways. Now this is where the unspoken agreement is vital. When a promoter takes a chance on doing a show, it really is just that. Taking a shot to bring good music to whatever city they currently reside and making a good impression on all those involved. Money changes hands and a tentative trust is built up. The openers trust the promoter to bring on people that are 100% on their game.

If a promoter thinks highly enough of a band to bring you on with a national or even an international act, you better do your damnedest to show up and show out. And why is that? Well, the promoter trusts you to do your job. The fans inadvertently trust you do put on a great show because you happen to be opening for one of their favorite groups. Lastly, the headliners trust you to do well because the promoter thought enough of you to bring you into the gig. That’s a lot riding on the openers, but us performers seem to come alive when the odds are stacked against us.