Indie fans have much in common with foodies, from seeking out the rarest material to stressing about the means of production
Dear Wendy,
Is food the new indie rock?
Rachel R, via email
As rock has recently been declared dead by Paul Gambaccini, many are wondering what will take its place? The question appears to be answered by new blogs such as Foodisthenewrock, and musicians M Ward and Jim James's site devoted to creme brulee. Perhaps food is the new rock. There are parallels between music consumption and the modern foodie movement, at least in the United States. Both have become sources for documentation. At gigs, a significant portion of the audience watches the show through the lens of a mobile phone. The hit songs that used to produce the most dancing now produce the most illuminated screens held aloft. Foodies are chronicling their eating habits in a similar fashion. At meals, people stop to photograph their food and upload the images to social networking sites before they take their first bite.
Yet, this could be an extension of the overall trend of life tourism, where experiences in the real world provide fodder for our cyberselves. It doesn't really explain why bands and fans seem to be increasingly enthralled by food. Bands are interested in food primarily because what they eat is often out of their control. Food on the road tends to be fast and cheap. It's one of the reasons why you are likely to see bands huddled at a Little Chef off the M1 or at a Denny's in the States. Musicians travel the world and if they don't put in any effort, it will be a long series of diners and trays of processed food accompanied by supermarket dips. For ageing music fans, life circumstances make active participation in music scenes difficult: partners, children, babysitters, early morning commutes. People's passion for new music has apparently turned into an obsession with food.
What I find most fascinating is how the modern foodie movement expresses many of indie values. The indie music scene finds ownership and means of production to be ethical issues, preferring small independent local operations to large corporations. Indie values include DIY aesthetics, simplicity, purity, an antipathy to the synthetic and manufactured, a desire for authenticity, a longing for the past (be it 7in singles or cassette tapes), and the elitist discourse of the art critic.
These concerns are shared by new hip food obsessives who want to know how food is made, where it comes from, how far it travels and how much integrity it has. The more artisanal the food is, the better. If you are paying attention to food production and consumption isn't that similar to paying attention to how your music is made, who owns it, and how it is delivered to you? Foodies are concerned if food producers are exploited or if distribution produces a large carbon footprint. You can look at a label of any artisanal food and see indie values: locally sourced, independently owned, limited quantities, traditional methods, purity, simple ingredients, and most of all organic, uncontaminated by additives. The food artisan produces commodities not widely distributed or easily found. Food entrepreneurs should be small and local, producing food with methods you could do yourself if you chose to. Not food produced by transnational corporations manufacturing synthetic concoctions such as mystery meat in a can. It's about restoring traditional methods in the face of modernity. Chemicals are clearly rejected. Perhaps this is why people are so skeptical about molecular gastronomy. Sure it's creative and distinctive, but it's so tainted by the future and science.
Contemporary foodies search for authenticity. What makes cuisine authentic is how traditional it is, not how expensive. As our cities are awash in menus from all over the globe, experimental foodies seek out the most exotic regional foods and assess them according to how closely the food is reproduced to its original form. If the food is extraordinarily rare, its cultural capital increases. If you go to a Thai restaurant that serves frog legs in tealeaf curry, a dish specific to one highland region of Thailand, isn't that just as good as getting a limited-edition coloured vinyl EP?
Then there is the connoisseurship. Foodies aren't just fans, they use the discourse of critics to suggest they have the aesthetic acumen to proclaim the absolute "best" of some cuisine and vigourously debate the relative merits of each dish or inventive food truck. If an establishment becomes popular, many will declare it's not as good as it used to be. The indie values of the foodie movement may explain the cult of In and Out Burger, the first stop for people in the know when they arrive on the west coast. It's beloved not only because it tastes good, but also because it feels good as well. In and Out Burger is independently owned. Its marketing is primarily word of mouth so fans have their own sense of discovery and personal investment once they have eaten there. In and Out controls its means of production and distribution. Everything is fresh, never frozen. They have complete transparency, even allowing you to watch the food being prepared. Their governing principles are quality and simplicity. They serve burgers, fries, and drinks done exactly to the customers liking. The fabled secret menu is just a short cut to genuinely having it your way as opposed to being told you'll have it your way, but actually getting exactly the same thing as everyone else.
So foodie values are akin to the philosophy of indie music, but the topic is different. Instead of arguing about the merits of, say, the Vaccines, foodie discourse provides endless opportunities to argue the relative merits of various creme brulees or express your connoisseurship for tapas. So if food is the new indie rock, which band would Heston Blumenthal be in?
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