Ironic Fannypacks and The Hipster Temple of Doom

I was in a room stockpiled with hipster prototypes. While occasionally someone could consider me a hipster based on the geographical location of my apartment, my musical tastes, and my tendency to call myself a fine artist without ever actually physically making any art in years, I felt like an outsider in this crowd: Mullets, mustaches, giant ugly glasses, and guys in short shorts were everywhere. Maybe it’s because I wasn’t wearing a fanny pack, or any other ironic style of clothing, but I was barely cool enough to be hanging out in Bushwick at Ridgewood Masonic Temple. It was a Todd P show, in Brooklyn, so I had to expect the onslaught of irony, but I don’t think I had ever witnessed such an overwhelming exhibition of hipster culture over the years that I’ve covered the music scene.

It was as if I had walked into some sort of ironic joke world, and was not aware of the dress code. Dressed in our considerably normal attire, my female companion and I had become the joke. While seated, waiting for the Ed Schrader show to begin, two guys passed around flyers, noticeably skipping past us. Was this like back in grade school when the popular kid passed out invitations but intentionally skipped the losers? Were we the losers?

As we waited discussing our feelings on how the line between ironic and just plain stupid has become invisible, the scariest thing happened, Nickelback’s “How You Remind Me” blasted over the speakers. Sure an iPod containing Phil Collins and Abba is the type of irony I have come to expect, but Nickelback? Seriously? Isn’t it too soon? How can the music of a corporate radio rock band that still currently maintains large scale commercial popularity surface at an event geared towards a crowd that purportedly lives for good music?

Understandably, they are this era’s Journey, but I’m not ready to see people rocking out to this Canadian corporate rock.  And I’m sure as hell not ready to hear this shit when I’m out to have a fun time.  Once again I felt outcast, as quite a few other people in the room were actually really into it. I wasn’t sure if they were just being ironic, but isn’t that the problem with hipsters these days. They don’t even seem to know if they’re being ironic.

Finally the New York premier of the “Ed Schrader Show” began, and what started off slightly awkward progressed into a perfect throwback to Glenn O’Brien’s “TV Party,” the legendary public access show from the late 70s/early 80s. The attitude was loose, the jokes were often terrible, but sometimes hilarious, and there seemed to be technical difficulties throughout the entire show, but that’s what made it so enjoyable.

Special guests for the night included comedian Michael Showalter (Stella, The State) and Eric Fensler (known for his hilarious [G.I Joe PSA parodies]), as well as musical guest Dan Deacon, who once lived with Schrader.

The show’s best moment came when the crowd participated in “Look at the Cat!” During this segment of the show, the crowd was asked to cheer and jeer for the best cat photo being projected on a large screen. Nearly all were hits, with the winner being one fat one lying on its back, and masturbating. Later on, Nick Fensler demanded a re-vote, and the cat playing blackjack was declared the new champion.

Following interviews with Showalter, Fensler, and Deacon, the show took a break to allow Dan Deacon to set up for his craziness. The “absurdist composer” has given himself quite a reputation for his exciting live performances, receiving high praise from everyone from New York Times to Pitchfork. Earlier in the year, he was even given the opportunity to [perform at the Whitney](/blogx/display_blog.cfm?bid=25492003). Deacon was obviously the main draw for the event, although much of the crowd had left before he plugged in.

Moments before Deacon’s exhilarating performance—which got someone as tightly wound as myself to dance—four Hispanic dudes entered the venue. Before that moment, I had felt like my companion and I were the ones who didn’t fit in, but these guys in their expensive baggy clothes obviously weren’t part of the intended clientele or demographic for this event.

Naturally, I was prejudiced against them, suspect of their motives for entering into this hipster Temple party. With the crowd, in tight, circled around Deacon, the party began, with everyone in the place dancing along. Even these “thugs” were dancing and seemed to be enjoying it. 

Of course they were into it. We were easy prey.  The geeky, scrawny white kids—many of which looked ridiculous—had their backs were turned, allowing these “thugs” to easily rummage through our bags that we naively expected to be safely stashed. My lady and I had let down our guards, in order to loosen up and have fun, but also because of our unwillingness to hold prejudiced feelings towards people based solely on how they looked. Though we were naïve enough to set down our bags, we kept a watchful eye on the culprits. Those watchful eyes watched those young assholes steal all of her cash (leaving her without a dime for food for the entire rest of the month) and a credit card. We acted just in time to grab our bags before they made with the big heist. The thief who had stolen my friend’s money had his hand on my camera bag, while we plucked it away without confrontation.

We quickly made our way to security to warn of the theft that had been taking place. The culprits were fully aware that they had been caught, and quickly made their way to an escape. While the security staff could have easily taken action and saved a lot of kids from the disappointment of losing a lot of money and valuables, they decided to let the thieves pass by unquestioned.

Why would the security guards do this? 

Well, this event was taking place at a Masonic Temple, and the Masons have strong ties to moral ethics. While I’m not sure exactly what kind of excuse this was—especially since the security staff did not look like they’d be Masons  (there’s that prejudice again)—but I’m pretty sure it has to do with blindly trusting people to act morally. This is all good and nice, but we clearly caught these guys who were obviously out of place there last night, and no action could be taken.

So if you were there last night and had the time of your life until you realized that your wallet had been pick-pocketed, or something important was now missing from your bag, you’re not alone. We dorks like to think we’re intellectuals, but we’ve also become naïve, forgetting where we live and where we roam.

Sadly, the fanny pack brigade all of a sudden look really smart. Surely the thieves couldn’t nab the contents of that stupid little ironic side pouch. Maybe they knew something I didn’t? No. Fanny Packs are still lame, and I still fucking hate Nickelback!

"Marmadick"

Photos by [Jonny-Leather]