This week in Dallas, my colleague Pete Freedman published an excellent think-piece on the cyclical nature of music these days (it's actually on the Beach Boys, but that's beside the point). You know how it goes in music today: X new band kinda sounds like Y old band, critics take note of this influence, then all sorts of new bands start sounding like Y band. As an example, Freedman mentions how this year the mainstream media finally took notice that hipsters had been re-appreciating Bruce Springsteen (this has been going on for years...note Sub Pop's Badlands: A Tribute to Bruce Springsteen's Nebraska, which came out in 2000!) Now, all of a sudden, the Hold Steady, the National, and Arcade Fire can all come out and sing Springsteen's praises, and critics get to make an easy reference in their reviews.
Freedman's essay had me thinking about a lot of things, but mostly about the idea of hipster re-appreciation. It wasn't long ago that Springsteen was terribly un-hip. Now, hipsters don't think twice about paying $90 a pop to see the dude live. Same goes for Paul Simon ever since Vampire Weekend plopped down in the middle of the blogosphere. And Fleetwood fucking Mac (jesus...). And don't even get me started on my precious Grateful Dead...
I've joked for years that Dan Fogelberg should be the object of the next hipster revival (I can picture it on Pitchfork already: Fleet Foxes, MGMT, Banhart On Fogelberg Comp.) But in reality, I think the band that's long overdue for a hipster revival is Hanoi Rocks. I mean, Finland's glammiest export never rose much beyond cult status to begin with, which would put them in the "Bobby Charles" category of critic-referencing. It's just ironic enough...full-on hook-heavy, party-time, slutty-assed cock n' roll! But they brought some by-God substance with all their bravado (think Guns N' Roses and maybe Enuff Z'Nuff).
So, where's the love, man? Start raiding those cut-out bins and 99-cent crates!