By Ines Schinazi

From the moment I entered the throbbing box, I knew it was going to be a long night. Electro beats seemed to drop like heavy pounds of steel, hammering against our skulls, until we finally slipped into a mixed state of trance and headache.

Electronic music. Like blood gushing.  Constantly in the back of our minds, waking us, plunging us back into the rhythm of life.   Far away from the decadent party, the electro beat still chases us, stalking us through our day to day. Choreographing this frenetic dance called “our life.” As malleable as it is disposable, it’s a constantly evolving soundtrack.  Revealing fragmented instants neatly sliced up like specs of broken glass.   Playing back to the millions of clicking keyboards, mute touch screens, invisible headphones, built in cell phones, GPS gadgets, bloodshot eyeballs hypnotized by glossy screens, e-mail monsoons, sacred text acronyms, Neon scoops of mini-micro-macro feeds, gracing us with our 2 seconds of fame.  We don’t need to press play.  This is the soundtrack of our life.   Dum, Dum, Dum, Dum:  a prompt response to our overly accelerated heartbeat, reassuring us that someone else feels the same way, becoming a musical painting of our lives.      Infectious rhythms flowing freely in their addictive nature, fixing us up with just the sort of drug we need.  And yet, the music we find “so cool” today quickly loses its sharp edge tomorrow.  So we eagerly gulp down the machine-constructed notes, before the smooth milk turns a sour blue.

Our generation feeds on instant gratification, eagerly disposing, and constantly reinventing.  We want “the new” right now.

I believe that electro music clearly depicts that attitude and mind frame.   Its rhythm represents our overly sped up pace. Machine manufactured beats are a clear reflection of our digital world.  These days we no longer need instruments.  We can simply rely on our laptops to produce instrumental sounds.

Most of electro’s omnipresent “expiration date” illustrates our society’s disposable attitude.  A great deal of music has become a sketch of a particular second in time.  Quickly forgotten, it fades into the background, as the next “song of the moment” takes its place.

Of course, it’s important to note, that there are currently incredibly talented artists, producing really amazing music, but they do seem to be a minority.   Also, I don’t mean to say that all electro is of poor value.  I am actually a fan of some of it, and I do believe that some of it will go down in history, as certain artists skillfully manage to be avant-garde, while still capturing the moment in which we are living.  However, it does seem that these talented artists are few and far between.

I think about how much incredible “old” music has stayed present and relevant.   And I wonder will our generation leave much music to the world?  Or will there be a large gap in musical history?  A wide blank space corresponding to our existence, sandwiched between all the greatness?

In the song “Chelsea Hotel No. 2” Leonard Cohen sings the brilliant line “We are ugly, but we have the music…”  So I ask Leonard (and you) what happens when the music fades?  Well, I hope we never find out….

Ines Schinazi
The Manhattan summer, filled with pent up heat and the polluted desire of lust, ignites Katy Perry’s voice, making it the perfect soundtrack for half of an instant, as Lindsay Lohan kisses Samantha Ronson behind the DJ booth, in a scene so surreal it could emerge straight from “The L Word.”

Flash forward to the end of summer. A lazy Sunday near Union Square. Katy’s voice still lingers in our ears. Two summer interns sip on red wine while trying to forget the word “Monday.”

Out of the blue, but in perfect harmony with a sense of destiny, Samantha Ronson, herself, walks right past us. A moment of hesitation, just to check if we are dreaming or already too drunk. As instinct hits, we frantically sprint behind her, (and our waiter chases after us, with the unpaid bill.)

In a state of half delirium, we follow Ronson, to the miniscule NYC Deli where she buys her cigarettes. Inside, my friend is struck with sudden, uncharacteristic, shyness. So.it’s all up to me. It’s a “make” or “break” moment.

I gather up the courage to speak to this completely high/hung-over/not so nice looking/ skeletal being. I compliment her music. Silence lingers in the air, as she slowly processes my words. Then, underneath her little signature hat, she says, “Hi, I’m Sam.” and gives me a smile. And, just like that, she walks, coolly, into the downtown sunset, leaving us stuck between packs of cigarettes, and our own laughter.

Yes. These are the times in which we are living. The times of chasing a famous person’s, not so famous girlfriend, down the street, and pretending to know her music. It is (or it was, for I believe their romance is already passé, as I write this) the time of Lindsay Lohan and Samantha Ronson.

It had been a messy sort of summer. First, Katy Perry sang about kissing a girl. Then, actress, Lindsay Lohan admitted she was in love with DJ Samantha Ronson. Even darling little socialites and heiresses, like Casey Johnson and Courtenay Semel, weren’t immune to the raging trend, as they dated each other.

It didn’t stop there. Two months later the world was in a “Vicky Cristina Barcelona” frenzy. Scarlett, Penelope, and Javier painted a new sort of relationship, and the world seemed to devour it.whole.

Just as the summer began to wind down, the French film, “Les Chansons d’Amour” arrived right on cue. The film painted a three-way love story, filled with beautiful confusion. The actor Louis Garrel, who usually portrays virile masculinity, even experimented with another man.

After this heavy injection of sexual experimentation via pop culture, my mother sadly shook her head, and proclaimed these films “A true depiction of our times.” To her, it seemed that our generation, loved (or fucked) whatever was in front of them at that specific instant, regardless of gender.

In short, we are just a bunch of starving, confused, kids. My mother comes from a time when things were simpler (or perhaps more complex.who knows?). One was either gay or straight, and this notion of a “free, fluid, sexuality” did not exist.or at least it wasn’t talked about.

The recent depictions of fluid sexuality in entertainment seem inspired by “real life trends.” At least, this is my personal observation. Is this simply a consequence of our evolution in society as beings? Or are we being pushed towards this fluidity by other factors, such as technology?

These days, most of us, exist in two worlds. We live in the “real world” and the “virtual world.” This allows us an abundance of possibilities and fluidity.

In the virtual world, information flows with great speed, intensity, and freedom. We’ve got everything at our fingertips, and we don’t have to choose, between “this” or “that.” In a sense, we can have more than one thing, and be more than one thing.

I communicate through machines, relying on wires and electricity. Yet it is all very palpable and real. Everything gets tangled up, and inevitably the “virtual world” overflows into the “real world.”

Perhaps, this encourages us to rip up our labels, and roam free from rigid definitions. Our personal identities become increasingly “flexible” and “elastic.” Living between the virtual world and the real world has taught us to “adapt,” according to our “audience.”

In the virtual world, everything is fluid. Information is abundant and ever evolving, just like the identities that create and mold it. Maybe the desire, to move away from the rigid definitions, of “gay” and “straight,” is our way of transposing “cyberspace fluidity” into the “real world.”

I don’t want it to seem like I’m sugarcoating the situation.

We aren’t nearly to the point of free love and tolerance. Lesbians are generally still thought more acceptable or at least prettier to look at, than gay Men, both in the media, and in real life. And if we need any more proof of existing homophobia, there is also the recent passing of proposition 8.

Yet, I do believe that the virtual world plays an immense role in shaping our actions in the real world. Despite the obvious existence of homophobia, most of the world does seem at least a bit more open to alternatives and difference.

It seems that, cyberspace fluidity has begun to pour out, into our real life interactions. It may even play an important role in the current evolution of romantic relationships and allow us to start “un-defining” sexuality.

In the spirit of fluidity, I dare to mix in some philosophy, by borrowing Rilke’s words. Rilke wrote, “…only someone who is ready for everything, who excludes nothing, not even the most enigmatical, will live the relation to another as something alive and will himself draw exhaustively from his own existence.” Clearly avant-garde, Rilke may have envisioned what was to come.

Yeah. I think it is going to be a fluid mess. Let’s just hope it will be as pretty as “Vicky Cristina Barcelona.”

Inês Schinazi

New York City. Underground morning rush, headphones glued to every pair of earlobes in sight. Stuck waiting for the next train. It’s like a silent film, except this time the live music plays in our heads. It can be whatever we want it to be. Personalized soundtrack. While we imagine the inner dialogue, the comic strip, popping, behind the other’s mute stare. Hard to get into it. Push comes to shove.

Finally inside the train, we all exist in our own space. Busy interacting with our own “machine,” ( MP3 players, blackberries, I Phones, digital newspapers,) so isolated while smashed up against what feels like ten million sweaty bodies. Paradox. Stuck together, and yet very much split apart.

How do we define “social interaction?” These days, the bulk of our “social interactions” take place through e-mails, texts, and social networking sites. We have many more virtual social interactions than face-to-face ones. Even when planning for the “face-to-face” we rely on the virtual (text, e-mail, facebook, and maybe the phone) probably spending much more time eyeing machines than each other.

Facebook asks “What’s on your mind?” Asking for a superficial x-ray or scan of our heads. Most of us give it to up. Eyeballing somebody’s profile, there’s no need for interaction when you can literally read somebody’s mind, or at least read what they want to share. No need to ask how people are. No desire to dig deeper. Time efficient. Too clean. A breed of thought lies there, almost too easy to catch, it’s static and raw.

Cyber space reminds me of jammed subway cars. We are all connected and stuck together through Facebook, Twitter, Blogs, etc. It’s literally possible to know exactly what people are doing, thinking, and feeling. Yet, despite all this apparent “connectedness,” individuals have probably never been so distant. After all, most social interaction means talking to machines.

In “Summer in the City,” Regina Spektor sings, “Summer in the city, I’m so lonely, lonely, lonely, so I went to a protest just to rub up against strangers….” No matter how much technology evolves and progresses, I don’t think the seemingly primitive need for “physical rubbing up” will ever disappear.

The song “comonossospais” (“Like our Parents”), written by Belchoir, and sung by Elis Regina, holds great significance, when it comes to thinking about generations. The lyrics reveal the immense gap between the singer and her parents. Even more interestingly, the song also expresses the huge gap between young people today and their parents.

I don’t want to talk to you
About the things I’ve learned
From my records…
(The new generations are barely familiar with the “records,” which had such huge impact on previous generations. This is the generation of CDs, chips, and pen drives.)

I want to tell you how I’ve lived
And everything that’s happened to me
Living is better than dreaming
I know that love is such a beautiful thing
But I also know
That its charm is so much smaller
Than any one of our lives…
(Love? Well, that’s a frequent theme for generation Y. But their perception of love is much more about having fun, and living in the “now,” with a carpe diem attitude.)

So be careful my darling
The street corner is dangerous
Their light turns green
And is constantly red for us
For we are young…
(For young people today, there are no red lights. Everything is allowed. Everything is OK. There are no obstacles. Nothing is too difficult. They can do anything.)

To hug your brother
And kiss your girl in the middle of the street
That’s what your arms,
Lips, and voice, were made for…
(Because of the violent environment in Brazil these days, it’s a bit dangerous to kiss in the street. So people kiss in shopping malls, in school, and wherever other safe public spots they can find.)

You ask me about my passion
I say that I’m under your spell
Like a new creation
I want to stay in this city
I’m not going back home
Through the wind
I smell a new season coming
I know everything inside my wounded heart

It’s been a while
I saw you on that street
Your wild wind blown hair
All the young people standing there
Against this wall of memories
The memories hurt the most…
(Again, this shows the sense of real life community youth had back then, these days that doesn’t exist, and youth get together virtually, and are usually much more individualistic.)
My pain is inknowing
That despite everything we’ve done
We are still the same
We live
And we are still the same
Just like our parents…
(This verse is the one that seems most out of tune today. Nobody belonging to this generation lives like their parents! What’s worse is that they don’t do anything to be different from them. Previous generations made a real effort not to be like their parents. It’s normal to want to be different. But this generation is different from their parents, effortlessly. It’s as if the generation gap develops naturally.)
Our idols
Are still the same
You say that after them, there was nobody else… “Today I know where my ideas come from.” “A new conscious is youth.”
(Idols? What? This generation has very few)
But you
Love the past
And you don’t see
That newness constantly flows…
(Even in Elis’ time, older people didn’t like the new)
Today I know where my ideas come from
A new conscious is youth
(The new conscious that Elis sings about comes from parents. Even this has changed. Youth today doesn’t learn as much from their parents. Rather, they learn with their friends. That is a fact. Of course this is greatly due to the fact that parents today, aren’t at home constantly keeping an eye on their kids. Most of them are out working hard. Much to their kids’despair….

Clip from the band “The Zimmers,” singing “Generation,” originally recorded by the British Rock Band “The Who” in 1965.