Why We Need a New MGMT
What makes a killer record? Well, the incels might say something pedantic and hackneyed like something polyrhythmic, which might mean something new these days. We’ve heard it all before, or at least that’s what the algorithm wants you to believe. We want the truth. We want rock, but is rock dead? Is Pop dead? Is there even a concept of an “indie” scene? Has the music industry practically broken, crashed and burned, leaving the future generations to pick up the pieces? Left in rapture like the ruins of Ozymandias? Perhaps. Well, who’s to blame? Why does almost every new artist seem derivative? Why does the world of music seem so small these days, with just a few cash cow heavyweights acting as mules punching up at the establishment, a transient glass ceiling, and nothing much else in between? Where are the true trailblazers, stalwarts, those that would die to keep the music going, the savants, the revolutionaries? Well, under relatively stringent guidebooks, some would blame Spotify, or the death of the monoculture. We don’t listen to the same music anymore; we’re sparsely listening to anything, but what the algorithm is telling us is good. The paradoxical effect where it feels like we’re listening to the same thing over and over again, like some sort of 9th layer of hell, where nobody feels, and the devil is castigated from the waist down in ice. We need more out of the music industry; we need more from the world.
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What makes an artist special? Well, MGMT might seem to be musical geniuses without trying; they have a frequently exceptional work ethic. What makes “Kids” so special? Is it the idea of nostalgia, the hopes and dreams for something that defies genre, and genre is wholly original and is ruled by creativity instead of dull, nondescript, redundant rhythms we’ve heard before? Is that true magic underneath that has been supplanted by that phony-sounding pop beat paradoxically supplied by the simplistic? Well, the band MGMT is no joke, which is true to the point that there is no companion to their style; there is no comparison. You leave a listen not just wanting more but questioning why it sounds so strange, different, and yet breathtakingly fresh and new, despite being nearly twenty years old at this point, reaching stages of young adulthood? They are best described as psychedelic rock, but there is no way to put a finger on them or describe them or truly place them in any genre or category that could coil them up and contain them. They have caused a host of different discussions of their meteoric and ironic rise to the top. They are kindred spirits, and their music has what modern-day music lacks. Modern-day music is lackadaisical, redundant, spiritually mute. MGMT’s music is inquisitive. It’s not meant to just be listened to, it’s made to instigate and extols us to think for ourselves. They cast a spell with each record; with each song, they have carried a host of different sounds, and they are the heart of what makes music joyous, jovial, and fun. We’ve yet to outgrow the beauty of those early records, though the song had a childlike joy. I remember first listening to MGMT and not quite knowing what to think. I just feel the happiness exploding out of the video. I heard it multiple times again and never knew the name of the song that I once heard. Once I did, there was no going back. I was hooked on the feeling of this irresistible band.
MGMT is not for everyone. In fact, they are not even for their own fans. They work strictly on their own whims, their own imagination. When the goal of your debut record is to make fun of a genre of music, the result isn’t often producing something so fundamental to the genre itself, producing imitations and die-hard fans. The timeless song is rare in the industry, and they hit the nail on the head multiple times on those first couple of records. They were just having fun. College students with a simple passion. That’s all it takes. The novelty may have seemed to wear off, but class is permanent. We see that they are one now with the death of the monoculture. The truth is, life is unfair; the staples we harped on from the beginning- the pillars, the castle, the moat, the line we drew in the sand- everything has capitulated into something super vague, undefined drivel. There’s nothing that hits hard on the radio or the billboard top 100. Superstars are not a commodity that we find common nowadays, and the ones we had are getting older. They’ve rattled the cages, and now it’s time for others to step up and take command and control of the reins. Rookies that rock and roll and have no fear of failure, the ones that make music life or death. The world beaters come back and make fun genre-less music trends now more than ever. “Electric Feel” is a tacitly implied fever dream, and clearly sarcasm. Tongue-in-cheek, witty humor. Just listen to the lyrics, the audacity. Immature; it gives it away. It’s not an ugly, redundant diatribe about a girl. It’s not a love song; it’s unmatched, untethered, and imbibed and embedded with the feeling of the vibe. Otherworldly. While others simply write music that feels like lye or some other acid sliding down the ear cavity, they chose to make something out of nothing. It’s an innovation that is rarely matched today. So how is it that two college kids with a vendetta against the status quo were making something so groundbreaking, meanwhile seasoned vets and highly touted musical prodigies can’t even get a whiff? The second coming of the prodigal son- well, it can be said that they are unmatched: the sunshine, the brightness of these first records, but I say they did one better. They made it their own; they adapted; they grew as musicians, as artists. This is the sign of a true artist: to never settle for less. They mastered their craft, and their journey was never settling for anything less than what they wanted. They never defaulted to trying to be themselves and filtered their personality and humor into their work. No, they weren’t always on the cusp or precipice of the otherworldly; they deluged the diluted music genre, and they brought their own flavor and personality. They enhanced it. No matter the odds, anyone can do music their own way because it was made in the streets. Not for insufferable pretentious people who are the scum of the earth. It’s for the admirable, connected to the craft and the arduous journey of becoming the very best. That’s what we need more of in a hackneyed world.
