PETER DREW | Photos HARMONY NICHOLAS
Asks if the Internet is our generation’s Rock ‘n’ Roll.

Every generation has its iconic movement in art. The Baby Boomers had Pop driven by Warhol. Generation X had the Young British Artists lead by the (now notso-young) Damien Hirst – and now in 2009 the race is on to capture the artistic voice of Generation Y. It seems that the ideas of each new generation always challenge those of the old, resulting in an endless cultural war over what is beautiful and what is true.

The only problem with that attitude is that the Baby Boomers are getting lazy in their old age and the best they can come up with is to call us ‘apathetic’. And the thing is, if we just keep on buying recycled versions of their ideas then we truly are apathetic. Let’s see if we can do a little better. If you have any doubts, just try listening to Magical Mystery Tour a few times and you’ll realise that the Baby Boomers weren’t so hot.

Of course Adelaide isn’t New York or London but, now more than ever, cultural shifts tend to happen everywhere at once. In this sense every artistic movement reflects the underlying spirit of the times and, by knowing this, it becomes possible to attune our eyes and ears for the next big thing.

So: what is the spirit of our times? What is it that sets us apart from previous generations? I find this question is a much better place to start than the often maligned ‘what hasn’t been said already?’ – a dull question that reduces the role of the artist to that of a magician pulling a rabbit from his hat only to sink it into a tank of formaldehyde.

What sets us apart? Well, the best place to start would have to be the Internet, computers, mobile web, and all the rest of that stuff which the olds do really slowly. Basically, the Internet is to Gen Y what the TV and Rock ‘n’ Roll were to the Baby Boomers but, obviously, so much better.

However, unlike TV, the rate of innovation on the Internet means that it’s taken years to really discover just how useful it can be. This seems to be its major draw back; that it changes so quickly, making it difficult to know what will stay and what will go. One thing is clear, that the Internet has toppled TV, film and the record industry from their perch, crushing the cultural power-base of past generations and leaving the door open for those who can interface.

The influence can be clearly seen in contemporary art. Take the work of Adelaide-based artist Sam Songalo. His paintings look like the circuit boards of his emotions, mapped out in sharp networks of contrasting colours. It’s exactly the sort of work which would have meant little to anyone twenty years ago. But in 2009, it speaks volumes of a generation that have been brought up with the challenge of squeezing their emotions through the wall of electronics that connects and divides us.

Sure, there have been artistic statements about how the digital world is affecting us but it’s only now that we are beginning to see work from a generation of artists who have grown up immersed in a world dominated by digital expression. I asked Sam what he thought of the Internet and he replied simply: “It’s better than TV” – which is actually a huge statement when you consider TV’s epoch-defining influence over the last half-century of culture. In fact, I was excited so much by Sam’s response that I decided to conduct a video survey at the aptly titled ‘Big’ art extravaganza presented by Twopercent art collective last month. I asked participants to choose between living without TV or the Internet. You can see the results yourself on at merge.com.au –but I’ll tell you now that they swung heavily in favour of dispensing with the proverbial idiot box. With responses like “What’s TV?” and “Using the Internet is like an essential bodily function” it seems clear that the Internet means more to us than it does to any previous generation.

Musically it’s a similar story, as I discovered on a recent visit Sebastian Tomczak, an old friend who’s become something of an authority in the world of chipmusic. If you don’t already know, chipmusic is a genre that basically uses old game systems as musical instruments. As a type of music it’s remained underground for long enough to develop into a significant subculture with an influence that is gradually subverting mainstream music. But it seems that the art form of chipmusic itself might be able to remain safe from the commercial constraints of mainstream music, as 85% of the trade in chipmusic takes place on the Internet and is absolutely free.

“The chipmusic scene is very supportive of new musicians who want to contribute,” says Seb over a kitchen table covered with game systems and laptops. Having recently returned from the International Computer Music Conference in Belfast, I wonder whether he’s tempted to move to where the action is – but he insisted that there’s really no need. “The Internet’s just as accessible here as anywhere else… even chipmusic concerts take place online.”

All in all, our conversation was generally informative and mildly uplifting in an Adelaide-kind-of-way. But just as I was leaving I discovered something really interesting when I asked what chipmusic did for him emotionally. Seb replied, “I generally don’t like happy music that’s played by a band but for some reason I do like happy chipmusic…It’s just removed from all the baggage that comes with bands”

Those words bounced around my brain box on the tram home as I tried to come to terms with the strange possibility that we need radical innovation simply to reclaim our ability to genuinely express certain emotions. It’s bad enough that we’ve inherited a world burdened by carbon emissions and billions
in debt. Somehow it seems unjust that some of us feel cynical about happiness itself just because Paul McCartney flogged the crap out of it. But it’s really no surprise that we’re in a strange place emotionally, having been promised the world only to discover that it’s slowly falling to pieces. They say that the first reaction to grief is denial, followed by a retreat into fantasy. Take a quick look around and you’ll realise that fantasy is rife within the creative output of Gen Y.

Take the distinctly contemporary comic stylings of The Mighty Boosh for example, and consider how completely divorced it is from reality. I’m not complaining. I love the chance to escape worrying about climate change, energy crises, water shortages and growing up. Apparently we all do. The Boosh offers a frivolous escape from the realities of adulthood, neatly packaged together with constant jibes at the culture of past generations that still dominate the mainstream. It’s interesting to ask why such a distinct cultural artefact is so popular now.

Even The Simpsons – which used to be full of preachy social commentary when it still had to appeal to Generation X – is now just as absurd as everything else on TV. I’m not saying that The Simpsons or the Boosh are art, but they certainly provide an indication of a general escape from reality.

The other great escape for Generation Y is the bizarre current of nostalgia for a time before our own that we call ‘retro’. Most people wait until they’re old before getting nostalgic but thanks to the Baby Boomer’s
undying obsession with themselves, we’ve grown up in such an immense sea of nostalgia that we can’t be blamed for thinking that we should just keep listening to Rock n’ Roll forever. That’s why Kings of Leon can sell records despite being about as interesting as a swing band in the 1970s.

It’s as if ‘retro’ is the cultural machine our parents built us, so we could visit their own, much ‘groovier’, lives. Thankfully we’re beginning to realise that our obsession with retro isn’t normal. In fact, it’s quite lame.

Have you ever wondered why retro culture never bothered to recycle grunge? The best and the worst of the 60s, 70s and 80s all got a second hearing but the one true expression of Gen X has, so far, been conspicuously absent from retro’s relentless march towards the present. Surely grunge is no less marketable than punk, so why not cash in, right?

Because grunge was never part of the Baby Boomer’s oeuvre, they’ll never feel nostalgia for it. So, neither will we. That is, until, Gen X take up the reins. But I suggest that we shouldn’t give them the chance. After all, there are more of us, they’ve already had their time and you shouldn’t get points for just waiting around. It’s time to put down the electric guitars and pick up an instrument which belongs to us – and preferably one with broadband.

It seems that the time for us young-uns is now. If you need a sign, just look at the election of Obama, which relied heavily upon the support of young voters. I hate to tie it all back to politics but I do so to discuss a means rather than an ends.

Culture flows from the ‘bottom-up’, but also from the ‘top-down’ and when a new administration takes power the doors begin to open for a new set of rules as to what is beautiful, and what is true. It’s easy to see Obama’s election as a generational watershed - the starter gun for Gen Y, if you will. I certainly enjoy such absurdly optimistic sentiments. They offer a welcomed antidote to the litany of problems that our parents have left for us, generationally speaking, of course. It’s nice to think we can do better than they did. After all, it seems that we must if we’re going to survive. I guess they felt the same way about their parents, but it’s one sentiment that I don’t mind borrowing from the past – as least for the time being.