The UK’s modern sonic landscape is as thrilling as watching mould grow at the seams of a poorly sealed window – bleak, stagnant and utterly uninspired. As streaming services and radio stations continue to push a homogenized sound, we are essentially witnessing genre-death for alternative music. Terms such as ‘post-punk’ and ‘indie’ now struggle to find appropriate homes, lazily applied to formulaic groups like IDLES and Wet Leg. Social media propelled hit-chasing and the bland musical culture that inspires it have carelessly allowed creatively inoffensive acts into ‘the alternative’, despite their offerings having little substance beyond slightly different flavours of the same sound.
The so-called ‘post-punk revival’ bands seem to be nothing of the sort. Modern post-punk bands lack the innovation of Wire, the manic energy of Bauhaus and the eldritch craze of Joy Division. Despite the seminal nature of such bands, we see no signs of their style in the supposed ‘revival’ of the genre. Any experimental influence is absent, even from other popular post-80s experimental acts. Despite the grand acclaim of the nearly 25-year-old Kid A, I have yet to hear anything even close to that boundary-pushing sound. The countless technological advancements since its release remain largely unutilized by so-called experimental artists, who instead favour polished, algorithm-friendly production.
IDLES, for example, claim to be a defiant, unconventional group with a political edge. Yet they are completely musically uninspired. Their performances feel more like embarrassing pub antics, with your drunk uncle on vocals, rather than any genuine challenge to the mainstream (see their Tiny Desk Concert performance of ‘I’m Scum’ if you fancy a good cringe). Their instrumentation is straightforward and lacks the jagged energy that made similarly political groups like Gang of Four so compelling. Their song structures are mind-numbingly simple. Compare the group’s offerings to post-punk predecessors like the Pop Group, who played with unpredictable dissonance and groove, and it’ll become clear that bands like IDLES play it far too safe where the actual songwriting is concerned.
Post-punk (and the alternative in general) was once defined by the ‘out-there’ influences, unique guitar work and unusual rhythm of the likes of Marr, Alsopp and Hook. It has now been reduced to predictable, by-the-beat songwriting. Celebrated ‘alt’ bands like Wolf Alice blend seamlessly into the pop charts. Blue Weekend, while not a bad album by any means, contains anthemic, conventional tracks more suitable for a Netflix teen drama than an alternative rock record. No ‘alternative’ is on offer here, nor is there any ‘revival’ of post-punk. There are just slightly different versions of the rock and pop that you’ll find on Heart Radio.
The move towards homogeneity can also be felt in local scenes. The influx of cover bands is particularly intolerable – not only is it dreadful to imagine the death of original music in favour of hearing the same old acoustic drivel over and over, but it also reflects the effect that the flat landscape of the modern industry has had on the attitudes people have towards music. Cover bands are a huge barrier to upcoming original artists – they’re so popular because people know that the new will sound just like the old, so why not just listen to the latter? If it isn’t broken, don’t fix it. As a result of this attitude, original acts are blocked from gaining any sort of traction by the popularity of uninspired, recycled music. The industry has built a ladder for imitation while pulling it up on originality. Expect to see many Oasis and Black Sabbath cover acts in the coming months in light of their recent reunions – your eyes may strain from the constant rolling.
Even in subcultures deeply rooted in a countercultural ethos, we see repetition rather than experimentation. The goth scene, for example, has seen a complete downturn in the quality of live performance and creative output. Rather than evolving beyond - or even defying - the foundations laid by theatrical groups like the Banshees, much of the scene has settled into safe, predictable territory. Economic constraints have meant that your local goth band is probably just two blokes and a drum machine doing very little but playing with their pedals, content to stick to synth loops rather than push the genre forward. The songwriting isn’t necessarily bad - many tracks would shine with a full band and a live drummer – but the apathy towards creating new-sounding music persists. The scene lingers on past glories, with someone’s grandad performing a rehash of ‘Temple of Love’ rather than anything that challenges expectations. I vehemently blame Doktor Avalanche.
Despite my cynicism, all is not lost. There are pockets of ‘proper’ alternative music still defiantly clinging on. In the North East especially, groups such as the gothic Black Rain and true post-punks House Proud – both Sunderland based – are gaining notable popularity in the local scene. The former are driven, atmospheric and refreshingly new. The latter are chaotic yet calculated, delivering a great live sound with gleefully brutish vocals and heavy feedback from what I’m told are very broken delay pedals – proof that exploration is still possible despite financial or technological constraints.
There are many more examples of great countercultural live acts, but the reality is that you’ll probably never see most of them. Local music constantly struggles with high costs, low turnouts and the aforementioned cultural apathy. These barriers are worsened by the unstable economic climate and a long-standing government attitude towards the ‘value’ of the arts. There are imaginative artists around the country, but because of these limitations - and the lack of inspiration from successful acts - this innovation rarely finds its voice. Without ‘mainstream alternative’ bands daring to sound different, we risk turning non-conformist music into nothing more than a faded museum exhibit – curated, sterilized and void of real rebellion.
If the alternative movement is to survive, it needs support. For those seeking new music, venues like Little Buildings, The Globe, and The Bunker continue to showcase upcoming talent from across the North East. If you’re sick of hearing the same recycled music, even within the supposed alternative, go seek out something different. Even if it’s not for you, at least you’ll know what ‘alternative’ truly means.
Until popular ‘alt’ artists break free from this cycle of predictability and repetition, or step aside for those who challenge sonic boundaries, alternative music will remain in creative stasis. Or, as the philosopher Burgess puts it, ‘In Shreds’.