"Death Cab for Cutie, Concert Review" Or "Why Hipsters Suck."

Portland, Or.
by Aaron Reichenberger trentsteele007@hotmail.com

In the last 15 years the music and fashion world has been privy to a slew of trends, forms, and cultural mass personalities. There was the Grunge movement of the early 90's, the Kid & Play baggy pants and high fade style of the same period. We've seen Boy Bands become icons of quasi-gay fraternity boys, and we've also seen skaters morph into Fred Durst look alikes at the beck and call of Rap/Rock. There is always the presence of the few remaining Phish hippies, desperately seeking a new band to attach themselves too in an attempt to bring meaning to their lives through music and the peddling of $5 Jager shots. Gangster Rap brought on two personas: "The Actual Thug," who lives his life true to the words of artists like Tupac Shakur and Early Pre-Eminem Dr. Dre by never backing down, living the way of the gun, and always enjoying a ho' while smoking a blunt. While the other persona brought on by Gangster Rap: "The Wannabe," was predominately made up of upper and middle class white boys who found solace from their harsh realities by wearing pants that fell of their asses, calling each other "playa'," and by generally acting as ridiculous as possible while attending their country clubs annual "Surf and Turf Golf Tournament."

Yes, we have seen, and been through, a lot of trends and styles these last 15 years. But none of them, and I mean NONE of them come even close to being as annoying as the current trendy nation. I am of course referring to the nation of: The Hipster.

I experienced this nation first hand last evening during the 2nd show of the Portland stop on the Death Cab for Cutie tour. Death Cab for Cutie, for those "not in the know," is one of the leading forefathers of the current Hipster movement. Made up of four lads from Bellingham, Washington, Death Cab for Cutie performs solidly entertaining music, good enough to at times make you tap your foot along with the beat, and at others to nod your head emphatically to Ben Gibbards soaring vocals. I am, without any doubt, a fan of Death Cab for Cutie.

The opening set was performed by a Montreal based act, "Stars." Somewhat entertaining, highlighted by the solid vocals of front man Torquil Campbell, the band set the mood with a not quite so riveting set that almost made the sea of Hipsters nod their heads once or twice. But this is to be expected. Rare is the show where any opening act gets more than a lukewarm reception, no matter how talented they may be.

Upon the completion of Stars set two things happened 1) The buildup in excitement throughout the crowd for Death Cab slowly creeped up to "somewhat giddy," and 2) My friends and I had our first negative encounter with a Hipster. Now, before you finish this story and think that I am generalizing and categorizing a fairly large contingent of trend followers as both weak and lame based solely on the events of one night, understand that I have been in the presence of Hipsters for nigh on 3 years now. Some of my best friends are Hipsters and I love them to death. But for every nice Hipster that I have met, there have been 10 who annoy the hell out of me. And before you think that I just "don't get" Hipsters, know that I absolutely adore both Hipster fashion and....well, really what the hell is there that separates Hipsters from anyone else? So yeah, I like Hipster fashion, and since this is the only distinguishing characteristic they posses, I guess that means I generally like the Hipster Culture.

Now, back to this first negative encounter with the Hipster. He seemed a generally amiable fellow, but the problem was that he was a bit "too amiable." As in, he was so amiable he enjoyed rubbing the butts and backs of both my guy and lady friends. As in, he was so amiable that he fell over and knocked down the curtain that separated the "backstage area" from the rest of the crowd, almost getting my friend kicked out in the process. As in, he was so amiable he would not stop creeping on my friends "bubble" for the entire concert. Eventually my friend took matters into his own hands (like his Momma taught him too) and asked the Hipster to please "get the fuck off my ass man," in the most polite tone he could muster. Unfortunately, the Amiable Hipster, upon departure, was immediately replaced by the Angry Hipster. The Angry Hipster is such for a multitude of reasons including, but not limited to: Being angry because all of these "fucking posers" are making his band popular, being angry because all of these "fucking posers" are in front of him at the concert and are blocking his view of the band he has been dedicating his life too for the past 12 years (when in reality, the band has only been together for 8.) Being angry because he looks like everyone else at the show, being angry because he smells bad, and that girl he emailed on Craigslist never replied and who the hell does she think she is!? He's angry for all of these reasons and more, and woe to the man who tries to prevent him from making his way to the front of the crowd.

Well, we did stop him from making his way to the front of the crowd. Not because we are dicks, but because there was simply no room in which the guy could squeeze into. But does the Angry Hipster understand this? Oh hell no. He simply stares, primps his blazer, re-parts his slicked hair, and adjusts his glasses quite emphatically before once again attempting to wedge his body into an amount of space that could not even support a small wheel of cheese. When rejected again the Angry Hipster mutters once more how all of these "fucking posers" are ruining his scene before heading back to the bar in defeat to nurse a PBR.

Next came "The Connected Hipster." Quite possibly the most annoying of the Hipsters, his mantra revolves around the presenting the image that he knows the band/bands manager/bands roadie/bands cousins best friend in middle school/etc. and as such he needs to get in front of you, or maybe, would your girlfriend like to meet the band after the show? He's typically the Hipster who at first seems decent enough, but after a few minutes becomes readily apparent that he, like all the rest, is simply an annoying bastard. Last nights exchange with the Connected Hipster went something like this:

"Hey, my buddies in this band, I need to get in front of you."
"Sorry man, there's nowhere to go."
"Dude, I know the band."
"Cool. But there's no room for you to fit."
"Oh yeah, we'll see about this." (Whips out cell phone, pushes buttons, presses to ear, poses dramatically, hangs up.)
"Your 'buddy' not pick up?"
"Well, he is playing on stage right now. He just couldn't pick up...so, can I get by you or what?"


And so it goes.

As all of these events occurred Death Cab was on stage giving a good to very good performance. Ben Gibbards vocals are just as stunning in person as they are on CD. Christopher Walla demonstrated that he is indeed one talented dude, bringing to life his guitar as well as an organ for a few songs. With only one mishap throughout the entire set, it was near flawless. Not quite energizing, but really, that's not what Death Cab's music is all about. It's more of a soothing feel that they provide. Like they are, with their music, throwing a warm blanket of comfort over the entire crowd. So, with all of this, all of these positive aspects, why is this review so negatively toned? Because the Hipster sucks that bad in my opinion.

You see, there was one more Hipster I encountered that night. That was the Hipster inside. I have been just like everyone of the Hipsters which I and my friends encountered last night. I have been the Amiable Hipster who made you want to punch me in the face because I was so annoying. I have been the Angry Hipster, who bitches about his "favorite band" finally making it big, and getting stinking rich in the process (how dare they!?) And I have, oh Gods to my embarrassment, been the Connected Hipster. So why then, does this realization lead me to hate the Hipster nation? Doesn't that mean I hate myself? No, and here's why: I grew up. I learned to respect the space of the people around me and not jump into their lower backs during a concert, no matter how excited I still get. I learned that I, and everyone else in the world, was at some point and time a "fucking poser," and that the only people who really have followed the band since it was formed are the band members themselves. I have learned that girls are not impressed by a guy who pretends to know the band, no matter how convincing the lie may be. I have looked my inner Hipster in the eye and told him to grow the hell up.

Now on that note, I highly recommend to all of you to check out Death Cab for Cutie should they come to your town. Their music is that good. But when the Amiable Hipster is kicking you in the calves while the Angry Hipster is trying to bowl your girlfriend over in his haste to get close to his childhood wet dream and the Connected Hipster is pretending he is better than everyone else in the club, and your patience is worn to the point of breaking; don't say I didn't warn you.