White Anthems

When I was younger, I always fell for music boys because even if they were apolitical bad spellers with questionable senses of humour, when they spoke about music they spoke passionately. And they sounded smart. And a smart boy who can play is hot.

Or was hot. Get enough hand stamps, hangovers and broken hearts, and you realize band boys really are a fantasy better left unrealized. Instead, my admiration for smart music talk parlayed into an appreciation for the music critic.

What's weird is that I don't even know that much about music. In high school, I blasted Supertramp from the car speakers and thought that was classic rock. But when a guy writes or talks about music with authority, my reflexive thought is, Wow, you're cool.

So, it was with delight I learned of Sasha Frere-Jones' recent essay in The New Yorker and the ensuing debate. Seems Frere-Jones laments the whiteness of indie music and believes Arcade Fire is one of the whitest of the bunch.

Carl Wilson shot back against the essay, adding that class plays more of a dividing role in contemporary indie than race.

And now Win Butler of Arcade Fire has shot back, with an MP3 of snippets of their music that he says, "steal quite blatantly from black people’s music from all over the globe."

I may not know half the musical references dropped in the essays, but following the debate makes me feel like I've regained my backstage access.