Several 'cydes to the story: Judging Internet reaction to BrokeNCYDE
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Nov. 18, 2008, 2:37 p.m. For one, brief, shining moment, the world is at peace. In the trees, birds chirp. In the fields, children play. Across the U.S., Americans pin their hopes to a plucky president-elect from Illinois. But, as they inevitably do, the gears of time turn forward, grinding the temporary tranquility into so much memory dust. Hearts are broken. People die. A staff writer for Seattle's The Stranger inadvertently starts a viral video phenomenon by posting the clip for BrokeNCYDE's "Freaxxx" to the paper's Line Out blog, giving the segment of the world that doesn't shop at Hot Topic its first exposure to the Albuquerque-based crunkcore outfit. Within the next two days, readers of Idolator, Videogum, and the L.A. Times are all pulled into an Internet shouting match that begins (if the Tumblr of the video's producers is to be believed) as soon as "Freaxxx" is posted to YouTube.
BrokeNCYDE's seemingly parodic mix of Lil Jon-derived synthesizer hooks, dumber-than-dumb rhymes (as one Idolator commenter pointed out, "Freaxx" implores "the shorties in the club" to "pull their panties down and THEN take their pants off"), Auto-Tune, and guttural screamo, uh, screaming inspires few mild reactions; you're either for BrokeNCYDE or against it. (For the record, this is some heinous shit, and we're very, very against it.) The pros only get more "pro" and the cons more "con" when the debate takes to the Internet—that place where articulately stated opinions end and ALL CAPS begin. With a BrokeNCYDE-supported Vans Warped Tour stopping through San Antonio today, July 2, The A.V. Club weighs in on some over-the-top debates currently raging about BrokeNCYDE's over-the-top music.
Resolved: The members of BrokeNCYDE are misogynists and/or racists.
Duh. This is music informed mostly by crunk—the minimalist, Southern hip-hop subgenre that injected "Skeet skeet, motherfucker" into the national lexicon—and second-wave screamo, which is more or less defined by its massive Madonna-whore complex. So to say that Se7en, Mikl, Phat J, and Antz (ugh) present a negative image of women is like saying N.W.A. wasn't too fond of law enforcement. You don't need the possibly fake, concerned parents group Mothers Against BrokeNCYDE to illustrate that.
The "racist" accusations are more complicated. Because they dress the part, it's often assumed that BrokeNCYDE is composed of four white, suburban scene kids making light of black culture while simultaneously reinforcing negative hip-hop stereotypes (getting wasted, treating women like shit, Auto-Tune abuse, etc.). The truth is BrokeNCYDE is 75-percent Latino, 25-percent "pot-smoking hippie"—not that any of that excuses the band for giving ignorant people more reasons to be afraid of hip-hop, or for the too-casual "nigga" it drops at the start of the song "Bree Bree." The editors of underground rock website Loud Hawk Press found the latter so offensive, they called for readers to start a write-in campaign demanding Warped Tour organizers remove BrokeNCYDE from this year's lineup.
Verdict: Until a BrokeNCYDER pulls a Michael Richards, or follows through on the fake choking portrayed in the "Freaxxx" video, this stuff mostly amounts to shock tactics. Empty, easily ignorable shock tactics. And while the comparison might be completely unearned, these kinds of accusations were once lobbed at three nice Jewish boys from New York who turned their hardcore band into a hip-hop act, and took a giant inflatable penis on their first headlining tour. Color us truly shocked when BrokeNCYDE puts out its Paul's Boutique.
Resolved: BrokeNCYDE is the future of music...
...and that's not necessarily a good thing. URB's Joshua Glazer used the above phrase as the title of a gushing, rushed blog entry appraising "Freaxxx," but the variation used by Videogum commenter "incandenza" to sum up the E-40-guesting "Booty Call" carries more potency:
"This seriously feels like 'future music' - you know, when your protagonist travels to the far future and is shocked and appalled by the hideous taste and bizarre customs of Future America."
That's not only the plot synopsis of Idiocracy, it's also the rock critic's ultimate nightmare: the unbridgeable generational gap. In a world that discounts the critic's opinion to the point of non-compensation, the final insult is coming across a band that they have no means of critiquing beyond declarations of "this sounds like garbage." You know, the way Mothers Against BrokeNCYDE would review a record.
Verdict: BrokeNCYDE's Warped tourmates include similarly debauched electro acts 3OH!3, Millionaires, and Breathe Carolina, so the makings of a trend are in place. What remains of the mainstream music press appears intent on trying to kill the the movement by ignoring it: You've got to go across the pond to find a rock rag willing to even review BrokeNCYDE's aptly titled I'm Not A Fan… But The Kids Like It (in typical NME style, but it's scathing), although the ever-comprehensive Allmusic offers an even-handed take.
Resolved: BrokeNCYDE is "the musical equivalent of a snow cone."
And nope, that's not a good thing either. While on the road with BrokeNCYDE earlier this year, Senses Fail frontman Buddy Nielsen took time out during every tour stop to badmouth the band, question its credibility, or just meander around the stage while mocking the annoying pig noises from "Bree Bree." Pressed for a statement from Absolutepunk, Nielsen compared BrokeNCYDE to the less tasty variety of shaved ice treats: "Bland tasting [sic] frozen tap water loaded with sugar, yet colorful, that will give you a brain freeze, melt all over your hands, leaving yourself dissatisfied and sticky."
Verdict: If there's one thing Nielsen and his ilk of post-millenial pop-punks have a way with, it's a tortured metaphor. (Though, "Calling All Cars" isn't exactly "All Along The Watchtower.") Despite his valid (if somewhat outmoded) complaints regarding the BrokeNCYDE snow cone's lack of "sleeping on floors, playing K Of C halls" flavors, he's only serving to raise its profile—which the guys running the snow cone cart have gratefully acknowledged.
Resolved: The members of BrokeNCYDE are savvier than you give them credit for.
As infinitely immature as I'm Not A Fan is, it does show some growth from BrokeNCYDE's previous full-length, 2007's The Broken!—or, at least, the development of a sense of humor and self-awareness. The Broken! marries hip-hop and screamo as well the band's recent output (which is to say not very well at all) with the additional burden of mopey teens being way too direct about their first heartbreaks. So why the shift in direction? According to the bandmembers, they started "having fun" with more club-ready material, but Something Awful's Andrew Miller puts forth a more sinister, calculated scenario: Realizing "emo rap is inherently terrible," they stopped taking themselves seriously, decided the subgenre could use its own 2 Live Crew, and started writing lyrics like "you make my pee pee hard."
Verdict: Everything on Something Awful should be taken with a grain of salt, but it's much easier to be "the worst band in the world" on purpose—just ask Seth Putnam—and some times provocation sells more records than sincere emotion. Here's hoping BrokeNCYDE's jokes wear thinner and faster than Anal Cunt's.
