Is Anyone Cool Anymore?

On Charli xcx's 'The Death of Cool'

Charli xcx writes on Substack now. A few celebrities made their writing debut here recently. Even Lizzo! This doesn’t interest me. Too big. But Charli xcx is a good writer.

To get this out of the way — yes, I think Charli xcx is quite talented. I heard Charli’s music while being out but never listened with intent. I was turned off to Brat because it became a cringe political meme.

After Trump won, it felt like enough time had passed to give Brat a listen. I’m unashamed to admit: it’s really good.

Charli recently published The Death of Cool — which had to be clicked. It’s a very alluring title. I wondered if she would write about how far the Brat meme got away from her in contrast to the vibe of the album. She acknowledged this without saying it.

“The more time passed from the album release the more and more bastardized the representations of the album became. These representations were replicated and reproduced and deemed as truthful. This is when I feel that things become broad, things become passé, things become boring.”

But this post isn’t about Brat. It’s about a word that shouldn’t be defined. Something is either cool or it isn’t. Someone is either cool or they’re not. Most people know the difference instinctively. The most we can definitively say is that once something tries to be cool, it ceases to be so. Just like trying to define it.

But Charli’s post made me wonder — is coolness dead? What’s fascinating now? Who has allure now? It’s hard for me to come up with a list. I’ve lived through some very cool eras where cool people and cool things were ubiquitous in comparison to now.

Why is it so hard to find? Is it due to the mass production of everything? The financial acquisition of the small and innovative by the large and powerful? The lack of quality in everything from clothes to customer service?

Is it the memeification of lifestyles? The internet that everyone is addicted to? Why be a cool person when you could post a picture of Patrick Bateman eating a fig on the coast of Sardinia saying “we’re so back”? Thousands of people might actually believe you are cool. Does this fill the void for both parties?

On Commercialization

Is it possible for someone to still be magnetic even after they’re commercialized? Charli raises this question by describing Italian actress and model Julia Fox.

[Julia] is inherently tied to elements of the underground…her approach to fame and celebrity are nuanced and avant garde and sometimes brutally honest in a way that is particularly distinct and not the norm.

Charli then claims that Julia’s vibe would survive hyper-commercialization.

But if Julia Fox did have a custom Mcdonald’s meal and a clothing line with Target and little Julia drones were delivering everyone’s Amazon packages, would this mass exposure make Julia Fox uncool? I honestly don’t think so because I’m sure she’d find a Warholian way to make it all make sense.

Has anyone reached that level of fame before?

Donald Trump has maintained his magnetism by shamelessly being himself, despite branding himself to everything, for better or for worse. Trump has always been synonymous with wealth, luxury, beautiful women, and capitalism. Whether you like it or not — Trump is cool. He’s revered by millions because he’s shamelessly his own strange entity.

Back to Julia Fox. Charli claims she would “find a Warholian way to make it all make sense.” Maybe. But Charli knows what happens after your vibe is captured by the unwashed masses. Amazon’s board of directors would weigh in on exactly how Julia is displayed on their drones. Julia’s Warholian ideas would be taken to a vote. Julia Fox’s allure would soon fade away.

On The Boring

Charli then admits her need to feel cool.

I would much rather be considered ‘cool’ by a select few group of people than known by everyone. And yes, I know it’s inherently lame to care about that kind of stuff, but I’m just being honest. My penchant for ‘coolness’ probably points to my deep routed insecurity (or perhaps I’d even go as far as calling it a fear) of being boring.

You should feel afraid of being boring. If you’re boring, you’ve lost your lust for life. If you’re boring, you socially cease to exist. You should avoid being boring as intensely as you avoid death. They’re the same thing.

Clearly, most people aren’t concerned with such matters, because most people are boring now. So what is it about people who have a healthy fear of becoming boring?

On Cult Followings

Charli then describes a show she went to.

…there was just absolutely no style. The audience watching didn’t feel like they belonged to a community that was unbelievably important to them, there was no sense of rabid fandom. Everyone felt unaffected. Everything felt vague. It was not cool.

Charli is talking about the lack of excitement underneath something new and emerging. On the extreme, she’s talking about cult dynamics.

Cult followers, as lost souls, aren’t cool. Even Trump’s most hardcore fans see him as a father figure. Cult followers use their cult leaders to give them meaning and guidance.

The cult leader has something the cult follower wants. They have a vision that they refuse to budge on and it’s expressed as is. The cult follower lives vicariously at the hands of the cult leader.

Once this sense of “I have something you want” begins to fade — the excitement around the entity once allured begins to dissipate. The audience doesn’t need to be there.

The Allure of Shameless Imperfection

Charli then ends the post by reflecting on the state of her art.

…maybe I need to face the boredom…Maybe I’m trying too hard? Confusion is sometimes cool anyways…I remember in the middle of the brat album cycle one of the vinyl plants accidentally printed 10,000 copies of the album…resulting in a load of albums in the wrong shade of green. Maybe if you spin it in the right kind of way with the right kind of confidence and a baseline level of taste anything can be cool? Maybe cool can live forever?

There’s something to be said about not caring about the details. Neuroticism isn’t attractive. Letting the chips fall where they may because you aren’t concerned with the outcome or the validation of strangers comes with a confidence of such a magnitude that attracts people who wish they had that confidence in themselves. The trust in their own process is what shapes their allure.