Last month saw the release of Meet Me in the Bathroom by writer Lizzy Goodman, a comprehensive oral history delving into the New York City rock scene around the turn of the millennium. This substantial 600-page book meticulously chronicles this era, a testament to Goodman’s dedication over six years. The book’s critical and commercial success, including an appearance on Late Night with Seth Meyers, underscores its significance, quickly establishing itself as a key text in rock history. Many consider it a benchmark for contemporary rock writing, contrasting sharply with the prevalent listicle and opinion-piece formats. Intriguingly, its compelling nature is evident even for those who might disagree with its central thesis.
Meet Me in the Bathroom aims to document and celebrate the scene Goodman experienced firsthand during her time interning at SPIN. Through over 150 interviews with musicians, journalists, publicists, and figures like Har Mar Superstar, the book constructs a narrative portraying the 2001-2011 period as a “golden age,” as described by journalist Conor McNicholas in the opening line. While the book includes personal anecdotes, such as the author’s enthusiasm for Bright Eyes, its overall perspective leans towards a fan’s romanticized view of the era and its prominent bands, notably Interpol, Fischerspooner, and The Strokes.
image
The Strokes performing in 2001, capturing the essence of the early 2000s NYC rock scene documented in “Meet Me in the Bathroom.”
Undeniably, the book captures a significant period in American rock music history, warranting thorough documentation. Goodman’s meticulous approach makes her uniquely suited for this task. This era represents the last major rock scene to thrive in the pre-ubiquitous smartphone era, a time when secrets could solidify into legend, mistakes could remain private, and drama could be discreetly managed. Now, with the passage of time, it’s pertinent to reflect: Did the era dominated by bands like The Strokes ultimately benefit or hinder the trajectory of rock and roll?
Assessing the impact of a music scene is inherently subjective and complex. Some might even deem such an evaluation impractical. Nevertheless, to approach this question, we can analyze it through three key lenses:
- Genre Contribution: To what extent did this scene enrich or innovate within the rock genre?
- Cultural Impact: How significant was the scene culturally during its peak?
- Future Trajectory: Did this scene pave the way for a positive evolution of rock music?
Addressing the first point: Did The Strokes and their contemporaries add anything substantial to the rock music canon? Goodman acknowledges this but offers a nuanced perspective: “Yes, and it doesn’t fundamentally matter,” she states. “I don’t believe artistic merit is solely determined by genre advancement. Art isn’t necessarily a linear progression. Originality is valuable, but not always essential.”
This viewpoint is valid – artistic evolution isn’t always linear. However, considering rock’s cyclical mainstream resurgence roughly every decade, each era has typically brought a distinct identity. The 1970s gave rise to punk, stripping rock to its raw core. The 1980s saw the emergence of hair metal, a flamboyant and sonically unique rock subgenre. The 1990s were largely defined by grunge, characterized by angst and heavy distortion. But what defined the rock identity of the 2000s? Often labeled “indie rock,” this term is somewhat misleading, as many bands, from The Walkmen to The Killers, were backed by major labels, hardly embodying true independence. This scene lacked a cohesive, original identity, often echoing the 1970s post-punk scene, particularly the one originating in the same downtown New York locales.
image
The Strokes performing at All Points West in 2006, showcasing their enduring presence in the indie rock scene.
The Strokes, the scene’s most celebrated band, were often seen as a modern iteration of bands like Television, with Julian Casablancas channeling a more photogenic Joey Ramone. Their aesthetic, from their music to their fashion, was distinctly retro. Even their logo evoked classic 70s rock fonts, reminiscent of a fusion of Thin Lizzy, Boston, and Aerosmith logos.
Goodman recognizes the validity of these comparisons but highlights The Strokes’ surprising unfamiliarity with the CBGB scene that preceded them. “Those guys genuinely didn’t know Television,” she insists. “When I knew them, Pearl Jam was their primary reference point.”
The criticism of derivative sounds extended beyond The Strokes. Many artists featured in Meet Me in the Bathroom seemed to embody pre-existing archetypes. Ryan Adams, the self-proclaimed “wannabe beat poet,” mirrored the chain-smoking folk persona of Bob Dylan. LCD Soundsystem’s James Murphy blended rock and electronic music, a fusion explored extensively in the 1980s. Karen O of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs adopted a theatrical, art-punk style reminiscent of Wendy O. Williams and The Plasmatics from decades prior. Ironically, The Darkness, a band consciously embracing and celebrating their classic rock influences, is notably absent from the book.
Despite questions of historical originality, these artists achieved significant popularity during their time, addressing Question 2. They collectively sold millions of records and graced magazine covers. However, their dominance within the “indie” rock sphere needs context. The broader rock landscape at the time, beyond the realm of spiked hair and board shorts associated with Sum 41 and Good Charlotte, included bands like Staind, Creed, and Limp Bizkit. Limp Bizkit and The Strokes represented contrasting poles – the former perceived as intellectually pretentious, the latter as privileged youths feigning naiveté.
“The pervasive presence of bands like Limp Bizkit and Hoobastank, often comically bad, created a toxic environment for any rock band seeking mainstream acceptance,” Goodman explains. “This was detrimental in one sense, but beneficial to The Strokes. They were genuinely good and, arguably, superior to bands like Hoobastank. The barrier to entry was high because mainstream interest in rock waned, but the quality bar was low due to the scarcity of good mainstream rock bands.”
While fans of Hoobastank and The Strokes might vehemently defend their preferred band, both scenes, on a larger scale, shared similarities. Both were major label-funded guitar bands, neither fundamentally revolutionizing rock music, and both operated within a level of celebrity utilizing MTV’s diminishing rock music programming alongside animated wrestling and True Life documentaries. Both scenes were predominantly male and marketed to middle-class white youth.
Despite critical acclaim from certain media outlets, The Strokes also faced significant backlash, often minimized in Meet Me in the Bathroom. While Goodman highlights early online champions like Ultragrrl and The Modern Age, she largely omits dissenting voices like Buddyhead, who famously vandalized The Strokes’ tour bus in 2001 with “$UCKING DICK$.”
Finally, regarding Question 3: Did this era lead to a more promising future for rock? Examining the present state of rock music provides perspective. The period following the Meet Me in the Bathroom era marks a decline for rock. After the wave of interchangeable skinny-tie rock bands (The Vines, The Hives, The Strokes) subsided, mainstream rock was overtaken by pop, hip-hop, and EDM. Contemporary rock bands achieving mainstream success often incorporate elements of these genres, like The 1975, a pop-leaning band whose guitar usage seems more ornamental than integral. Currently, the top rock albums chart includes Imagine Dragons, 311, 21 Pilots, Nickelback, and the Guardians of the Galaxy 2 soundtrack. If the early 2000s rock scene lacked a clear identity, the current scene arguably lacks vitality.
Beyond musical legacy, the cultural impact in New York is also debatable. The scene is often credited with revitalizing Manhattan’s cultural landscape, considered stagnant for two decades prior. However, this “revival” arguably fueled a wave of gentrification in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, leading to unsustainable development, brand-dominated public spaces mimicking authentic street art, and modern office complexes.
Goodman cautions against overstating the scene’s impact: “It’s not as simple as saying The Strokes performing on Saturday Night Live caused Brooklyn’s unaffordability. The causality isn’t that direct.”
Ultimately, Meet Me in the Bathroom functions as a history of post-9/11 New York City as much as a rock and roll chronicle. It portrays the city through the lens of emerging bands and their associated experiences of fame, excess, and rivalry. The differing interpretations between Goodman and the author stem from contrasting perspectives shaped by their experiences of New York – Goodman as a romantic newcomer and the author as a native experiencing the pressures of urban change. Their differing viewpoints, like the artists they discuss, fall into established archetypes: “You’re the skeptic, I’m the believer, and we’re playing our roles,” Goodman observes.
When asked about publicly sharing their ongoing critical discussions, Goodman welcomed the debate. “Ultimately, the purpose of literature and art is to spark discussion, conversation, and emotion,” she concluded. “So, why not?”
Dan Ozzi is on Twitter.
