Been Stellar confront the end of innocence on nostalgic indie anthem “Kids 1995”
Been Stellar confront the end of innocence on nostalgic indie anthem “Kids 1995”
Photo by Drake Li
Originally published by Alt Citizen
Kids is not an easy watch. A monument of independent filmmaking, Larry Clark and Harmony Korine's 1995 film tackles extremely heavy subject matter with a sense of blunt realism that can be difficult to engage with, especially given the high-risk behaviors of the under-age characters. Making a direct connection to such a lauded, but polarizing piece of art is a bold move, one that immediately sets up Been Stellar's latest with a host of deeply engrained cultural preconceptions centered upon the abruptness of adulthood and the breathless vacuum left in the wake of innocence lost.
“Kids 1995” is a track that slots neatly into the realm of an indie rock epic, massive in scale and deeply emotive in an egalitarian way that triggers intense flashbacks to specific moments in individual histories; denim and corduroy daydreams that smell faintly of spilt beer and clove cigarettes, a hazy young-adulthood spent on the covered porches of late night college towns waxing philosophical and bragging softly in equal measure, fully aware that these moments are possessed of a tangibility little more substantial than the low mist that hovers ephemeral just above the dewy blades of the front lawn. Even without context and only half paying attention “Kids 1995” stirs something universally recognized and intensely personal, but dig a little deeper into the track and a beautiful dichotomy of hopefulness and desperation emerges that more than justifies the cultural linkage to the track’s namesake.
Kids is a cautionary tale of hedonism run amok, a striking glimpse of brilliant futures snuffed out in the nascent moments of life. Extreme, undoubtedly, but highly plausible enough to serve as a powerful reminder to the casually reckless that there is no future when living without consequences. “Kids 1995” on its own never gets quite that heavy but is loaded with adjacent symbolism like a dreamer shaken awake with a start from the precipice of the abyss.
Comprised almost entirely of bright, emotive guitar strummed with a vaguely unsettling sense of momentum, “Kids 1995” is powered by a motorik rhythm section that tugs and pulls at the sleeves like an earnest friend urging you to join them as you turn your head for one last look back. There is an air of familiarity that pervades the track, a calculated sense of timelessness that inspires warm waves of nostalgia for moments 10 minutes ago or 10 years ago that, while heavy, never succumb to the sticky melancholy of saudade. The sensation is instead that which exists at the intersection of a slow smile and a single tear, neatly packaged in the unattributed adage “don’t cry that’s its over, smile because it happened.”
Verses are delivered with a stream of consciousness narration recalling the events of a dream that bleed over into the daylight like a low-grade hangover. Chemical interpretations and synaptic reactions to actual events and innate fears conjured between the waking hours and confessed in hushed tones heavy with vulnerability. There is a very real sense of disassociation, of passively watching the events of one’s life play out like scenes from a movie but slowly awakening to the fact that you are actually in control. As the dream becomes lucid so too does the realization that it is impossible to continue as before, unmoored from consequences and bereft of responsibility lest becoming a victim of a life left unlived.
The weight of the verses are balanced by a chorus that’s more chanted than sang, a bouncy collection of lines constructed in a way that inspires participation as one of the crowd with voices raised together and pressed against the foot of the stage, or alone in one’s room pogoing in headphones like you’re the only person in the universe. Ebbing and flowing along the track’s runtime before building into a rising crescendo for the song’s final act, the energy of the chorus propels like a slingshot into the thrilling unknown before settling, quietly, into comfort.
Filmed in a tight 4:3 aspect ratio, The video for “Kids 1995” follows a middle-aged woman as she bounces around a series of closed rooms awash in swirling lights and colors. Fully decked out in the fashion of much younger person from another decade, she rolls and revels among a parade of faceless individuals, names and likenesses lost to the fog of memory, but the sensation of being there still very real. Interactions are fleeting and surface level indicative of the pursuit of something more real until finally reaching a man, clad in black and of her own age, smiling alone in a dark room. They dance, with a closeness and intimacy not shared with any before, exuding a level of satisfied companionship as the youths dance in anonymity into the final bars of the song.
Kids was filmed as a day-in-the-life. “Kids 1995” is presented as a life in a day, a tightly composed narrative that awakens the sleeper to a possibility of a future beyond the reckless abandon of a youth spent without boundaries and a future full with the promise of happiness. The ultimate lesson is that it’s never too late to change, and the first day of the rest of your life can begin whenever you choose.
Been Stellar will be playing Elsewhere on November 21st for the release of “Kids 1995” — get tickets here. Stream the track on Spotify and follow the band on Instagram.