Remember when underground truly meant underground? Well thanks to mega-hipster and “underground Brooklyn-based” music promoter Todd P – along with the thousands of shitty hipster bands out there – underground means nothing today. If 7,000 music blogs are constantly putting stuff out there, then it’s not underground. It’s amazing though; with all the attention these hipster fucks give themselves, every band is one of “those bands you probably never heard of”.
But this story takes the cake on trying so hard to be underground and obscure that it hurts. These fucking douches actually played a show in a fucking deli in Bushwick. Not a small theatre, not a dive bar, not even an overpriced parentally funded hipster loft that was converted in an old tuna can factory – BUT A FUCKING DELI! I’m pretty sure packing dozens of people, along with a bunch of music equipment plugged into the walls and cigarettes being smoked is a fire-hazzard - not that a smoldering building full of smelly hipsters would necessarily be a bad thing. The level these try-hards will go to to be “kewl” and “different” drives me insane. I can see it now. One day in the future one of these wanna-bes will have his grandchild on his lap back in their home state saying “yah, I was part of the underground Bushwick, Brooklyn music scene; I helped Brooklyn become Brooklyn. Your old granddad was a pioneer”. Or even the following day, one of these fauxhemians will be sitting in a Bushpointburg cafe with his Mac nasally honking into his phone “yah dayuuuuude – saw this amazingly epic show in a deli last night” so everybody can hear.