The Importance of Being Earnest?
“I can just hear them now / How could you let us down?”
Even writing this post feels embarrassing. . . So we beat on — there’s a discomfort worth diving into here.
Memes are named after their replicability through exposure to humans. The study of mimesis is a rather high-brow PhD topic, not something typically associated with accessible humor, until the internet changed all that.
Memes, originally referring to images with “top text” and “bottom text,” typically looked like caricature-style images with accompanying “relatable” captions. Perhaps we remember the classic image of Gene Wilder in his role as Willy Wonka making an exaggerated face of strained, feigned interest with sassy accompanying text that read something like “Oh, you went on a fabulous vacation? Please tell me more by writing about it all over Facebook.” This type of meme, categorized as part of the “MFW” or “my face when” genre of meme, is equal parts classic and outdated.
In fact, the modern “meme” has migrated so far and changed so much as to include memes that literally insist upon themselves, requiring years of “chronic onlineness,” referring to an in-depth, comprehensive exposure to the annals of the internet for a significant period of time. Such “inside-baseball” type memes cross reference soundbites from Vine and Tiktok, visual cues from Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and Reddit, and even classic analog humor incorporated from stand-up routines, world news, or political slogans.
For example, a tweet featuring the phrase “nothing but respect for MY president” was posted by a user who shared a photo of herself cleaning up Donald Trump’s defaced star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame in the wake of the 2016 election. The photo of the woman and the original meaning of the phrase is long gone. Today it is a humorous phrase used to praise whatever is standing in for the “president.” The phrase could caption an Instagram post of a piece of particularly good Avocado toast, or the punchline of a TikTok created by a fan meeting Martin Sheen, referring to his role on the West Wing.
Memes are an inevitable part of our increasingly online quotidian lives. As such, they are an important part of the music industry. Many artists rely on humor and an online presence for their fans to increase engagement and remain relevant. Sometimes an artist becoming a meme is intentional, and sometimes it’s out of the hands of the artists or bands who become “meme-ified.” Early examples include the Nickleback disparagement jokes from Tumblr or images of Vampire Weekend’s frontman Ezra Koenig making an inquisitive expression while scratching his chin. Father John Misty’s portrait often accompanies a meme with the phrase, “You listen to bands?! that is so mainstream. I only listen to the birds outside because they are not on a major label!” referring to his career in the indie space.
Alternatively, artists like Oliver Tree, Yung Gravy, BBNO$, Lil Dicky, and BLP Kosher rely on meme tropes to market themselves. In the summer of 2023, comedian Kyle Gordon went viral with a novelty meme song as “DJ Crazy Times” on his track “Planet of the Bass,” and fellow comedian Brian Jordan Alvarez went mega-viral with his meme song “Sitting” that he performs as one of his alter-ego characters named T.J. Mack. The popularity of comedy tracks is no modern phenomenon; in 1974, Ray Stevens’ bizzaro song “The Streak” charted at number one. Other songs like “Short People” by Randy Newman, “Barbie Girl” by Aqua, and “The Fox,” better known as “What Does the Fox Say?” by Ylvis share similar stories.
What use is there for humor in music? What is its effect when it’s intentional versus inflicted upon? To explore these questions, we ought to look to Tame Impala. Cue the bro voice: “Did you know that Tame Impala is just one guy?”
Well- that’s true and untrue. Kevin Parker, the Australian musician better known by his stage name "Tame Impala,” has ruled the festival scene since 2009. On his discography, Tame Impala is a solo project, but things are different on the road. For studio albums, Parker writes, records, performs, and produces all of the project's music; touring Tame Impala consists of Kevin Parker, Dominic Simper, Jay Watson, Cam Avery, and Julien Barbagallo. You can offer that witty quip at your next Brooklyn housewarming (if you have a time machine . . . because nobody is offering knowledge about Tame Impala as reflective of hipness in 2023).
Tame Impala makes excellent music. Parker’s command of 70s-inspired psychedelic guitar rock is mesmerizingly impressive. He breaks popular music convention to release songs running over the seven-minute mark, and his inventive, artistic music videos feature incredible hallucinogenic, kaleidoscopic imagery. For all intents and purposes, Parker should have retained his status in the “cool camp” along with his milieu contemporaries: Father John Misty, The XX, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Haim, and St.Vincent. What was it about Tame Impala that it became, well… a meme?
Sometime around 2019 (and I may be late on it because this meme probably began earlier in more esoteric corners of the internet), Tame Impala became the ire of many edgy online jokesters. A tweet from 2020 by @pipesbuffet proclaims, “No, I will not be making a coronavirus meme. If I wanted to find humor in an incurable sickness that touches all parts of the globe, I’d make more Tame Impala content.” A trend began on TikTok that referred to certain indie and alternative musicians belonging to a new, emergent genre of “male,” or later “female,” “manipulator music.”
Male manipulator music included the likes of Radiohead, Carseat Headrest, The Smiths, Neutral Milk Hotel, and, importantly, Tame Impala. Fans know these bands really couldn’t be more different; across decades, genres, and overall ~ vibes~. Perhaps what they all feature on a more basic level is music and lyrics that speak to vulnerable male loneliness, romantic rejection, and struggles with traditional masculinity. Female manipulator music, apparently by Lana Del Rey, Pheobe Bridgers, Fiona Apple, and Mitski, seems to fit together a bit more comfortably in the singer/songwriter genre and features female soloists who recount sexual assault, depression, and other raw, uncomfortable topics endemic to womanhood. The “manipulator” element implied by this fake emergent genre is that these are the favored musicians of “males” and “females” who tend to rely on their individuality complexes, hipster personas, and music taste to lure in romantic partners whom they ultimately manipulate through gaslighting, emotional unavailability, and other pop-psychology buzzwords. How did Tame Impala end up in the cross-fires of the culture wars?
Perhaps the crooning male guitar soloist is meme-able in and of itself. Long before there were hipsters, there were beatniks, hippies, and punks. The beat poets, the new journalists, and early punks can easily conjure the image of an insufferable person to get caught talking to at a cocktail party. “They insist upon themselves,” one might critique. This has always been the fight that the indie scene is up against. For rejects and weirdos, it feels comfortable to be in a space where awkwardness or holier-than-though hostility can be translated into social capital. The indie scene wears its heart on its sleeve and this can scare away pop fans who turn to music for fun and sometimes heartbreak but not necessarily social commentary. This, of course, evokes the classic quip that “art should comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable.”
Tame Impala’s ascent arc seemed to coincide with the cultural awareness of the fragility of masculinity and the ability to identify the effects of masculinity outside of traditionally masculine spaces. Whereas it was always easy to point fingers at traditional jocks, boys with guitars were set apart, until more recently. We have the cultural capacity and vocabulary to refer to “indie f*ckboys” or “softboys” and point out the sinister sexism that hides in “innocent” places. However, again, this is an assertion being made toward a fictional, stereotypical Tame Impala fan, it’s not a criticism or reflection of Kevin Parker himself, a rather strange phenomenon. However the prevealance of this meme has infected Parker’s clout and created an awkwardness around Tame Impala’s fanbase.
Currents, Parker’s 2015 album came out when I was 16 years old. I remember running around the central park loop for track practice, blasting the album in my earbuds and streaming it in my bedroom. Tame Impala played Govball, and I attended. It felt grown up to be a fan of a musician I had found on my own, not through my parents or on the radio. Tame Impala wasn’t my favorite; Kevin Parker didn’t (and doesn’t) hold a candle to what Lana Del Rey and Vampire Weekend represented to me at that time, but Lonerism and Currents hold a special place in my heart.
Not to shock you, but 2015 was nearly nine (9!!!) years ago. Anything relevant at that time has since ripened into its cultural patina, ready to be revisited and recontextualized. For this reason, I argue, justice for Tame Impala! This one-man band is so much more than the low-grade memes we allowed to damage its reputation and degrade its importance as an iconic indie-alternative band of the 2010s. We can express appreciation for Tame Impala earnestly at this point, without relying on witty quips and remarks as cultural signifiers that we’re apparently not supposed to genuinely like or appreciate Tame Impala because we should be into things that are newer, more cutting edge, more indie. But that’s not why we turn to Tame Impala at all- we go there because at this point, its classic! So just, “let it happen.” Throw on Currents with no apologies. Lie on your back, close your eyes and get lost in the sweet, sweet sounds of psychedelia.
