Ode to the n'th shoegaze revival

Shoegaze is more culturally relevant now that it has ever been.  I had nothing to do with this, and didn't even know it was happening until I started reading the year in review pieces over the past month.  One had to be on TikTok or following certain TV shows, I guess, and that's not a complaint or a put-down, it's simply a self-reflecting statement about how far I'm removed from the reality of popular Gen Z culture these days. Although in retrospect, I should have suspected something based on the number of quality dream pop playlists showing up on Spotify.

Philip Sherburne's wrap-up for Pitchfork is predictably excellent, summarizing the successes of first generation and newer bands, as well as acts given a second life thanks to current trends.  His explanation for the genre's success is simple: it may have started as an introspective micro-offshoot of indie rock (with a derogatory name to boot), but its sound was always bold, confident, powerful, and even inspirational. As Sherburne writes, "...the sound of shoegaze has always aimed skyward, reaching further toward the stars with every billowing, coruscating chord."  When you put it that way, it comes across as a genre that was forever convinced of its own inevitable, inescapable success!  

Shoegaze in the late 80's and early 90's was the story of shy teenagers and early 20-somethings bursting out of their bedrooms and finding the inner strength to be extroverted standing behind a panel of guitar effects pedals.  It appears that's still true today, except that the kids don't need to leave their bedrooms, and in some cases, don't even need to buy the guitar pedals.  Eli Enis dives deep into TikTok's role in making shoegaze a breakout genre, and it's not even appropriate to talk about a "revival" when none of the 18-year olds were even born until years after the initial wave of 90's band had mostly broken up and disappeared.  Personally, when I listen to the TikTok acts, I hear more of a resemblance to Nirvana's standoffish ennui than MBV maximalist sheets of noise.  Nirvana T-shirts are more popular than ever, and it feels like they're long gone but have never really gone away, much like it was with the Beatles, Doors, Pink Floyd and plenty of other 60's bands that every music obsessed teenager was familiar with in the early 90's.  

Nirvana's anti-rock star poses have never really aged, it goes without saying that they've permeated the culture more than any shoegaze act ever did.  But at the same time, I have always been struck by how forward-thinking shoegaze has always been.  One could usually identify a 70's or 80's track based on their signature production cues, but with shoegaze, it's almost like we reached the production endgame.  Any track made today could have been believably recorded in 2013, or 2003, or 1993.  Burying the vocals in the mix also helps to transcend language and culture barriers, never tying the music to a specific country or era, thereby helping the music endure irrespective of its then-contemporary audience.       

"Maestro", dir. Bradley Cooper

I remember the final years of Leonard Bernstein's life, he was the superstar classical conductor who was paradoxically famous for composing one of the most beloved musicals.  His life story was spectacular but wholly linear.  In Mahler's time, he too was considered to be a conductor first, and a composer a distant second.  As the decades passed, the narrative flipped.  The person and his art was out of step with the societal norms of his time.  

"Maestro" accomplishes two very remarkable things.  First, it prominently features Bernstein's compositions in the soundtrack.  It showcases his remarkable flexibility as a composer, ranging from campy musical theatre to serious symphonic tours de force.  Overloading the soundtrack with pieces from the standard repetoire, from Mozart, Beethoven, or Haydn (Bernstein was an outstanding conductor of all three) would have been a safe and easy choice.  By placing his music front and centre, the movie makes the case that Bernstein was one of the most dynamic 20th century composers, and in my opinion it largely succeeds.  

Second, it presents Bernstein's struggle with his homosexuality and his struggles with his personal creativity as two sides of the same coin.  Actually, "struggle" is a bit misleading.  Bernstein knew exactly who he was in his personal life, and knew exactly who he was as a composer.  The problem was in how to present these facets in public.  Attempting to conform to what was expected of him, as a husband/father and as an artist, was a ongoing battle that was never resolved in his lifetime.  

"Maestro" isn't a biopic in that there is no attempt to highlight the key moments and accomplishments in Bernstein's life, no gimmicky "fly on the wall" recreations save for a brief snippet of his NY Phil conducting debut and the final six minutes of Mahler's "Resurrection" Symphony from Ely Cathedral with the LSO.  The latter essentially packs all of the reenactions into a single epic take.  The music and the setting is magical, although Cooper's conducting is unnecessarily histrionic, even for a Bernstein imitation.  I know the video and audio recording of that performance quite well, Cooper takes it a bit too far, perhaps the only time in the movie where he doesn't completely nail his subject.  Consider the difficulty of Cooper's task, in playing Bernstein at ages 25, 35, 45, 55, and 65, adapting flawlessly to the changes in his voice and mannerisms over those decades.

Thus, Bernstein's prodigious career accomplishments are downplayed, and the movie really focuses on his fascinating and complex relationship with his wife Felicia. It might be the best love story I have even seen in a music-centred movie.