The Slacker Ideology of MJ Lenderman

In the ‘90s they were called Slackers, the youth non-movement that waved a white flag to activist traditions. The evils of capitalism were accepted because what other choice was there? The terms of this submission meant embracing satire, scorn, and ridicule. And there were perks - the mall, cable TV, a vintage Sunoco shirt with the poor worker’s name still on the front. Irony was the prevailing spirit in the race to reappropriate some systemic totem into the new definition of cool.

Except in music. There could be no satirical irony detected in the worship of icons like Tupac and Kurt Cobain at the top, all the way down to electronic and hardcore and rugged boom bap. But all that raging against the machine on the charts didn’t represent true Slacker ideology. I say this as someone from the heart of that culture, who still wears it around like an old hippie in a tie-dyed shirt. Revolution is a dead scene, long since commodified. My worldview was more accurately represented by the pithy observations of early Beck - “someone kissed their own ass by mistake.”

Pavement is the Metallica of Slacker Rock, the avatars of the movement. They broke out from a wave of lo-fi indie rock that could be seen as a new incarnation of folk music. The era of rock gods was over, but what were Nirvana and Pearl Jam if not riffs on that same tired formula? It’s not easy to start a band, to submit to the demands of the music business. And is it even worth it? Slacker ideology faced down these questions, of what’s worth doing and what’s not. Who can answer them? Definitely not rock stars and celebrities.

Slackers can also sniff out fraudulence like police dogs. This penchant in hindsight might have been self-destructive. The ‘90s fermented some pernicious beliefs about the concept of selling out. Corporate was not just a pejorative but an obscenity. Which spoiled the Slacker ideal of acceptance, of ridiculing cultural arguments rather than engaging. And spoiled is the right word, as this aversion to selling out speaks to a certain privilege, a limited worldview afforded by a safety net. This condition of bitterness and criticism is not unique, but pedestrian. In today’s social media world, it’s harder than ever for artists to thread the needle of success without the mob at their heels.

MJ Lenderman’s music doesn’t burn with any great urgency. It’s rather regressive, bordering on Nostalgia Art. Pavement is now classic rock, a form to be picked apart for new ends. I hear Slacker ideology best exemplified by female artists like Soccer Mommy or Phoebe Bridgers and boygenius, who can adopt irony for their own emotional needs. Irony has to have a purpose lest it rot on impact. Indie rock dudes have it tougher these days, and rightfully so. It would be just anecdotal to note the times I’ve discovered a good band later beset by creepy sexual allegations. But I believe most music listeners have had similar experiences. As to whether it changes one’s relationship to the music, that’s another argument. But it has contributed to the jaundiced eyes with which audiences have toward indie rock dudes.

Contextual as all this may be, it’s part of the buzz around MJ Lenderman’s Manning Fireworks. It’s a little paper boat tossed into the cultural river of controversies and commenters. One could argue that its charms are small, its feel familiar. But it doesn’t fall for their worst traps of Nostalgia Art, which can be either just kitschy jokes or flimsy facsimiles. This music feels sincere.

Manning Fireworks is a classicist brew of ‘90s indie and ‘70s folk rock. I hear echoes of The Band in “Joker Lips” and Neil Young in “On My Knees.” While “Wristwatch” could have been a hit Archers of Loaf 7” single in 1995. The overall mix of Southern rock and spidery indie aesthetics reminds me most of The Grifters, one of those great forgotten bands who never got their proper hype. Lenderman has his hype, and the stakes feel higher here than on his 2022 album Boat Songs. Quirkiness alone affords small victories, but maturity and refinement can also be the death knell for Slacker rock. Who really wants to take anything seriously?

“If you tap on the glass, the sharks might look at you/ Damned if they don’t and you’re damned if they do” goes a line on “Rip Torn.” That’s a fine expression of Slacker ideology. Slackers shirked their duty to fight the system, putting instead a spin on Stoicism. So Manning Fireworks extols this virtue, just poking at consumerism (“A wristwatch that tells me I’m on my own”) or rejecting the conventional responses to a failed relationship (“Go rent a Ferrari and sing the blues/ And believe that Clapton was the second coming”). I can dig all that. The next step after cynicism and irony has to be transcendence.