A rambling post that is only my opinion that I probably should have kept to myself

Outside the prosaic dimension of Top 40 radio (aka: the ineffectual scraps that unfortunately approximate what's being listened to by an All-American Idol consuming audience), breathes a near-infinite multiverse of independent musicians and record labels, grinding out what's assumed to be refined and unpolluted harmonies with clever, precise lyrics... unmarked by the those greedy metallic corporate fingers. The indie patch is often worn frayed, its stitching sewn by undelicate hands. Rough but true and pure. Indie is regarded by many as the final bastion of uninterrupted musicianship... where the bands own their sound and cleave fast and hard to their DIY ideals. 

In the broadest sense, I love indie. I love indie films and I love indie music. I host a weekly independent music show. Just a few months ago, I was given the "music director" moniker for the non-comm radio station I work for, allowing me access to even more independent artists. There's nothing more true or noble than a garage guitar hero whose blood circulates raw passion for real music. Hearing a new song or uncovering an unknown band can make your day, month, or possibly even your whole year.

Now having broken in my title at the station for a few months, I have amassed a rather lanky stack of CD's, most of which are lingering in a cobwebby corner of the office. Rarely a day passes that I do not receive at least one or two albums in the mail, all addressed to me, from humble record labels anticipating me to add their artists to our music rotation. For a job that forks over real money, I confess that I could be doing a lot worse right now. I've known people who'd blithely allocate a few quarts of their blood and perhaps even a vestigial organ or two for a racket like mine. There's no denying that listening to music in exchange for a paycheck accordingly elevates one to the "lucky bastard" stratosphere.

But there's a lesson to be learned when programming new, discovery music for a radio station and it is this: Indie music IS a genre standing by itself... it is NOT a wide-spread collective of music-makers with a heart for stardom. The two should not be confused, but unfortunately it is more than a little difficult to tell them apart. A band such as the Arcade Fire are still looked upon as "indie," probably because they are distributed by Merge Records (which is a fine record label, based in Durham, NC). Merge could never contend with the likes of Sony or Capitol Records, but many of their artists are bubbling just under the surface of mainstream success, standing with toes over the ledge of national acclaim. Earlier this year, the Arcade Fire released their third LP, The Suburbs, which debuted at number ONE on the iTunes Music Store. All of the Miley Cirus and Green Day fanatics around the electronic world had downloaded or in some measure listened to part of the album. This is not my endeavor to attack Arcade Fire's newest... I really like it. However their success on the charts should torpedo to smithereens their indie status. Perhaps your local Wal-Mart may not carry many copies, but if Best Buy is featuring it on their new music rack, your independence has been redeemed for a full-on franchise.

Why are bands such as Arcade Fire still labeled indie? Because indie is a genre of music, just like rock, hip-hop, electronic, and jazz. It's doubtful that Pop-Pop and Gram-Gram know them, but their grandkids are wearing these bands' t-shirts. Indie is a genre, a style that fortunately does not discriminate against style of music. Indie embodies all of rock, hip-hop, electronic, jazz, country, etc... and neatly places them within itself. It provides a soundtrack to the culture of counter-culture. It gives abiding cred to the pork-pie wearing hipsters who dance alone by the juke. Indie music is GOOD music that has real value.

I really mean that.

But it is not the music I'm paid to listen to. The fore mentioned stack of CD's left to stagnate in my office are MOSTLY a collective of entirely worthless albums distributed by tenderfoot record imprints. Just for a second, remember your record-collecting neighbor who practiced their guitar until three in the morning attempting to forge their own moment in music history. They wanted to be like Clapton. Maybe they have a band and play over at Stumpy's on the weekends, covering Stevie Ray Vaughn and Deep Purple. Maybe they scare up enough shekels to go into a recording studio and hammer out a few tracks and make an album. By and large, these are the artists that I made to listen to.

It's really, really bad. These artists are reaching to be heard by a lot of people, but rarely can summon the creative flow to sound even vaguely similar to the TRUE artists that have inspired them. Maybe I'm the wrong person for the job, but in these cases all I manage to hear is well-pronounced noise in the form of insipid, forgettable music that should remain in the bars, where it may at least be appreciated by a captive audience of the inebriated. I cannot fathom ever seeking out a copy of an album by The XXX XXXX Band, forget paying real money for it.

I've spanned the entire world to make a point, here. Perhaps I'd better just get back to work...