Phoenix at the Olympics and the myth of the indie landfill
What is, exactly, the great Indie Landfill? Well, to a large extent, it signifies cool cynicism on the part of critics, and, barring the odd atrocity, carries very little actual artistic weight. While the odd notable asterisk is undeniable and truly some of the worst bands in history hailed from the 2000s indie boom, these corked wines are true of every generation’s batch and the unimaginative ‘landfill’ label has unfairly ran rampant.
At worst, the indie bands from this era were young kids simply trying to have a good time and recapture rock ‘n’ roll’s early essence, and at their best, they were defibrillating dormant alternative music with a fresh new impetus and providing fitting nihilistic fun in an uncertain era. At the closing ceremony of the 2024 Paris Olympics, it seemed odd to see indie served up on such a vast global stage, in the form of Phoenix, but it also proved the strength of the genre at its best.
In recent years, we’ve seen bands like Bloc Party handed a revival thanks to the Saltburn soundtrack, and we’ve witnessed documentaries like Meet Me in the Bathroom provide a mise en scene for the next generation discovering their new favourite ‘old school’ bands on TikTok, and Charli XCX channel a fair chunk of Propaganda nightlife into her Brat summer. In short, the indie of the 2000s is back in bloom.
Phoenix appearing at a pivotal event like the Olympics closing ceremony and triumphing seemed to be the final hint that we should reconcile and re-evaluate a vital scene that has been unfairly ridiculed from afar by folks with nothing better to say.
Why now?
The indie scene seemed to arise at a time when alternative culture was turning towards a rather more alienating tech age. Then, something noteworthy happened. “The Strokes shook us from the post-Britpop lull creeping in from 97,“ Adam Ficek of Babyshambles told Far Out. “I had slowly moved my attention to the excitement of the London Breakbeat scene, but in 2001 my love of grit and guitars came back with laser-sharp focus. The Strokes, the look, that video! It kickstarted and reinvigorated band culture.”
The band culture it heralded was inherently more inclusive and collective than individualistic beat-making. It was vibrant and romantic. “Welcome to the era of cool,“ Deep Valley told Far Out, reminiscently. “Dreamy heartthrobs playing absolutely hip-as-shit rock ‘n’ roll. Yes please.“ This is a view that feels suitably simplistic. Millions subscribed to that easy appeal then, and millions more are joining them for the revival.
Phoenix have a fitting mantra on that front: “Cool,“ they sing, “I’m just trying to be cool“. As millions watched their set on Sunday night (August 11th), that much was patently apparent. But rather than feeling reductive, its easy charm washed over the masses in an infectious wave of catchy choruses and energy that proved the antithesis of ‘trying too hard’, which impacts a great swathe of modern culture attempting to uphold the weight of the world on its shoulders.
Phoenix and their fellow indie cohorts arose at a time of the war on terror, banking collapses and the dawning realisation of just how catastrophic climate change will inevitably prove to be. In the interim, sadly, none of those issues have shown much sign of disappearing. Thus, it is hardly surprising that the youth of today are finding enormous comfort in the nostalgic boom of breezy, sleazy indie rock ‘n’ roll and the sweet nights of irreverent reverie on carpets stickier than the wrapper on a warm toffee that such music breeds.
The indie scene was easy, accessible and democratised. It was full of kids just picking up a guitar and starting their journey with covers of their mate’s music, like Phoenix with Daft Punk, Air and a legion of the other French electro-inclined contingent, occasionally happening upon something revolutionary and radical with its youthful vigour. In a cynical and complex age, that simplicity is a beautiful antidote. What else is there to the nonsensical but sweetly melodic lyrics of ‘Lisztomania’, but nihilistic fun? The Paris Olympics proved that a soupçan of such relief is as important to culture as spring is to the seasons.
Indie’s impact on today
Usually, anything 20 years old is at the very trough of its cycle—not old enough to be cool and retro, not new enough to still be important, just purely primed for ridicule. However, nobody could have predicted quite how much derision would be heaped upon most of the indie of the ’00s by the time the sniping journalism of the internet age truly took hold.
Bands of the past were not just disregarded but hauled over the coals for being crass and cringey little copycats simply in it for the good times. Granted, there are more than a few acts where that criticism holds true, but is it really the worst thing in the world when the same ethos under artful hands produced timeless masterpieces like Is This It that had a crucial impact on the development of modern progressive culture? Even at its worst, the scene provided unforgettable nights of fingering frivolity for a whole generation of youngsters who are now facing up to the fact that their skinny jeans have produced a varicose veins pandemic in their greying days.
The reality that is slowly dawning is that you can’t turn your back on a whole cultural age; especially one as fundamental and, simply put, good as indie in the ’00s. And you certainly can’t do that when the alternative is a daft label invented by a cynic simply to signal, ‘I am so much cooler than this risible stuff that came before, and I’m happy to use a tired memeable catch-all to prove that’.
Of course, there was shit indie that belongs on the ash heap, but in any given era you have to pluck your Pulps from your Dodgys, your Nirvanas from your Nickbacks and your Johnny Borrells claiming they’re better songwriters than Bob Dylan from your four lads from Sheffield simply entering the garage on the side of their family’s semi and producing perhaps the finest, most prevalent debut album of all time. If anything, the beauty of the indie age is that all highs and lows were happy, thriving and given space to flourish while an eager collective of fans went along for the ride.
As Hamish Hawk told Far Out, there are many artists today reconciling that they are a product of this scene. “I was raised on indie landfill,” says one of today’s finest songwriters. And while he admits some of the lousy acts he saw back then in the gaudy days of his youth now make him shudder, The White Stripes were also a magnificent part of it all, and he wouldn’t be here without them.
The issue with ’00s indie?
The only issue arises when that scene proves overbearing on the progression of today’s bands. Because it isn’t always The White Stripes of this world retaining their billing and plenty of fodder from the past is a bit too fortunate to be granted such a firm footing in today’s struggling industry. However, that is not a problem with the old indie scene itself, but rather the music industry’s modern mechanisms that somewhat preclude another rock ‘n’ roll jab in the arm, like the ’00s indie explosion, from truly coming to fruition.
Nevertheless, when done right, as Phoenix proved, and included as a mere part of the culture – old and new – on display at the Paris Olympics, the indie landfill is thankfully beginning to look a little bit more like a bustling repository of one of modern alternative culture’s most thriving moments.
