Existence is altruism in indie rock

Go to Pitchfork's curated page for Kickstarter right now and you'll see five projects: a photography book on NYC block parties, a woodcut graphic novel, a film exploring the relationship between Chicago's architecture and its post-rock scene, letter-pressed greeting cards, and a webseries on African inventors. These are all interesting projects that are admirable in their worldliness and creativity, to be sure; what's odd, though, is that only one out of the five has anything to do with music, despite the caption at the top describing Pitchfork as "the web's most popular music resource." And even then, that one is actually a film about music, not a music project itself.

Now, I could be wrong, but my hunch is that the average person wants to know which projects interest the Pitchfork crew specifically in their capacity as music writers, not as ordinary individuals who follow a wide variety of interests. After all, other pages never stray too far from their general theme and purpose; Sundance mostly spotlights films, and RISD showcases art projects. Pitchfork is the only one displayed on the main page that's related to music in any way, so it's pretty obvious what Kickstarter was expecting from them. Don't get me wrong, Pitchfork can do whatever they want; I'm not arguing that they're obliged to meet anyone's expectations. I'm simply observing that they clearly feel no pressure to do so. And I think I know why.

In every other artistic medium such as film, dance, fine arts, or graphic design, the path beyond entry-level competence is still very much through academic institutions. Music seems to be the only medium in which independent artists are at no disadvantage, and may even hold an advantage, for possessing little formal training or acquired expertise. Most would argue that this is a good thing, and I don't disagree myself, but such institutions at least provide some measure of objectivity. There are too many musicians itching to get ahead, and in the absence of an objective system for ranking the music itself, one will inevitably arise based on other criteria: image, ideology, personal connections, and so forth. And one has.

But who would argue? We support this scene and trust the indie labels to bring us the best music out there, yet we're given very little transparency regarding how they go about doing it, and most of us don't bother to ask. On top of that, if objective standards just don't exist, then there's little reason for them not to sign their friends and ideological compatriots. In fact, some respected labels like Sounds Familyre and Kill Rock Stars virtually declare such to be their mission statements. In other artistic mediums, the process of selecting independent artists for exposure is a weighty task often reserved for impartial juries. In indie rock, though, it's a simple matter of going to a party and looking around the room.

I'm reminded of a Simpsons episode in which a representative from a soulless toy company assures Lisa that all the profits go to benefit children, only to then follow with a disclaimer that, well, we're all somebody's child. Similarly, if you're in a scene that's all about supporting independent musicians, and everyone you know is an independent musician, how can you ever be criticised for being good to your friends? It's altruism, not favouritism or parochialism, and all of us in this scene have internalised this mentality to some degree. In indie rock, being who we are and doing what comes naturally to us are celebrated as noble qualities in their own right.

So Pitchfork may write about music, but their real job, the one for which they're most admired, is to be themselves. That's how they see it anyway, and clearly, they're not exactly wrong.

Update, August 23, 2011: It's still the same five projects, as of today. Their curated page hasn't changed in any way.