Chapter 1: The Evolution of Music Culture

"Back in my day, being a goth meant you knew how to defend yourself." — A friend from the goth scene.

In a vivid memory from when I was 18, I found myself in a Hooters in Virginia, accompanied by two friends and a trusted ally. We were all victims of trafficking, forced into a lifestyle that demanded we maintain a "child-like" appearance through starvation. Despite our youth, we understood the dangers of walking alone, especially given our attire.

Our traffickers had a preference for Gothic Lolita fashion, which we embraced, donning spike heels, corsets, and frilly dresses. At the time, goth clothing was closely associated with goth music and the happy hardcore genre, both of which resonated deeply with me. We felt at home among fellow goths and cosplayers, yet navigating the mainstream was perilous for us, exacerbated by our experiences with sex trafficking.

During our outing, my friend Dwayne stood up to a man who was harassing us. The waitstaff, clearly annoyed, asked us to leave. As we exited, Dwayne remarked to a waitress, "You’re supporting the wrong crowd." The waitress retaliated, claiming we were "asking for it" with our outfits.

This was a typical experience for me, but not for the reasons one might expect. Many would assume we faced such treatment due to our appearance, but there were others dressed even more provocatively. This was simply the reality of being goth in the mid-2000s. At Newark's goth club, it was common knowledge that you shouldn’t enter alone; safety in numbers was essential.

More seasoned goths often looked out for the younger ones, advising them to be prepared for confrontation. One friend handed me a knife for protection, highlighting the genuine threats we faced. Tragically, in 2007, a goth was killed simply for her clothing choices. Being a goth back then required resilience; you had to fight for the right to be yourself.

Today, it seems absurd to worry about violence stemming from one's wardrobe. Tattoos, once frowned upon, are now widely accepted. Reflecting on the past, I see parallels between music movements and the struggles of various countercultures.

As I listen to modern music, it feels as though something vital is missing. Just as AI-generated writing can feel lifeless, contemporary music often lacks the passion and depth it once had.

Consider the 1960s, a time when music was a powerful vehicle for messages of peace, love, and rebellion against the establishment. Rock music instigated profound societal changes and gave rise to the Flower Generation. My father once recounted an incident where he tried to help a man after a car accident, only to be dismissed as a "smelly hippie."

Jazz, too, was once a bastion of rebellion, challenging conventional norms through fashion and lifestyle. The beatniks, often derided for their tastes in literature and music, embodied a spirit of defiance. Protest songs permeated the charts, with tracks like Neil Young's "Ohio" resonating with the struggles of the time.

Even hip-hop emerged as a voice for marginalized youth, providing an alternative to expensive nightlife. However, the current music scene seems less concerned with standing for anything significant.

Perhaps it's a sign of aging or simply a changing culture, but I no longer see the younger generation facing risks for their self-expression. While incidents of violence still occur at underground events, they seem less connected to the music scene's ethos and more to the crowd present.

The stakes appear lower today. While artists like Lady Gaga and Taylor Swift champion causes like LGBTQIA+ rights, their activism often aligns with marketability rather than genuine risk. It's crucial to differentiate between a statement made in a safe environment and one made at personal risk.

In the past, standing out was a bold act that could lead to real consequences. Nowadays, it seems common to express individuality without fear of retribution. Many dismiss punk or goth styles as mere phases, failing to recognize the struggle behind them.

Reflect on this: Would you wear what you do now if it could lead to violence? Would you voice your opinions if they could have deadly repercussions? Some of us are acutely aware of the answer to that question. True defiance is a rare commodity.

Modern music feels subdued. Record labels prioritize producing non-threatening, easily digestible music. Gone are the days of protest songs that challenged the status quo; the norm has shifted to love ballads and safe themes.

This approach may be effective for sales, but it inadvertently stifles music's potential as a catalyst for social change. I recall the profound impact of Orgy's "Stitches" music video when I was a child; it resonated with me deeply, empowering me to embrace my identity.

Orgy inspired my goth style and gave me the confidence to stand out. I became infatuated with their music, which made me feel beautiful even when others told me otherwise. I wonder if today's troubled youth can find similar artists who tackle taboo subjects with the same intensity.

The music landscape has shifted dramatically since the 2000s. With the decline of impactful artists like Korn and Trent Reznor, I fear that the music industry has intentionally dulled its edge. After all, conforming individuals become conforming adults who rarely challenge societal norms.

In a capitalist framework, profit reigns supreme. It's simply not lucrative for musicians to address pressing societal issues or to take controversial stances. The notion that music subcultures are merely aesthetic is a relatively new phenomenon; once, they demanded full commitment and were instrumental in driving change.

Without that fervor, I ponder the future of music. Sound should embody more than just a superficial aesthetic.

Chapter 2: The Loss of Rebellion

The first video titled "The Unfortunate History of TEETH" explores how societal norms and perceptions have shifted over time, examining the implications of these changes on identity and culture.

The second video featuring "Lil Fame on Losing Teeth In Car Accident" reflects on the personal stories intertwined with music culture, highlighting how experiences shape artistic expression and identity.