Niche is dead. Long dead. Teenagers in suburban Utah are cosplaying Djs in Brooklyn, and Atlanta rappers are following the lead of New Jersey punk rockers.
Every subculture has bled into another, and it won’t stop anytime soon.
But is that a bad thing?
It’s more than clear that we all exist within the same collective consciousness. Some of us may sit deeper in it, but the difference is marginal. Most of the time, we’re experiencing the same ideas at slightly different intervals. The rise of gatekeeping, while partly in jest, became a survival instinct to hold on to fleeting individuality. But individuality, at least when built on interests and possessions, doesn’t stretch too far anymore.
I’m not complaining, though. Any insanely creative-one-of-one idea I’ve had, or fashion trend I thought I started, was probably just the result of unknowingly seeing something similar ten times over. The greatest argument for the internet’s existence is access, after all.
As annoying as it may be to discover that you’re not the true originator of that phrase or the only one listening to that artist, it’s just reality. A trade-off, if you will. And thus, you are left with two options. Seethe about the fact that your interest is shared, or use the same access to find a new passion and even deepen the one you already love.
Edits are the easiest examples of this.
You might’ve seen Stranger Things edits to the tune of NBA Youngboy, or Todd Gurley highlights paired with Midwestern Emo. These are worlds that very sparsely collided before the internet (before TikTok, if we’re being real). And although it may seem random, the emotions match. The same feelings exist through two vastly different planes of existence. It’s a perfect example of how two entirely separate things cannot only co-exist, but also cross-pollinate in a natural way. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with influence spilling over.
The issue is when interest becomes a stand-in for personality.
Take Spotify Wrapped. You mostly see two types of people post their year in review. Those trying to prove they are the biggest fan of a specific artist, and those trying to prove their taste is more diverse than everyone else’s. Both are saying the same thing: “I am not like you.”
The message is the same as always, but the means is starkly different. Instead of the in-crowd chanting “be there or be square,” the outliers are controlling the narrative. Social currency is now measured by how far you can step from whatever everyone else is doing. The opportunities for validation are limited when everyone has the same thing, but the possibilities are endless when you can receive credit for finding or doing something first.
Humans are inherently social creatures. We want to fit in, even when we try to do so by standing out. Half the things we call individuality are just a variation of a shared instinct. We find comfort in patterns and familiarity. Even if that “familiarity” is just a micro-trend that lasts three weeks.
Do I hate the way society chews up and spits out culture? Yes. But, that’s an entirely different discussion about attention spans and consumption.
Still, I think Gen Z is a bit self-aware about the problem on their hands. It’s evident in the way “niche” has become more of a joke poking fun at the idea that anything can actually be exclusive when millions of people are being fed the same videos every day. And “performative” has been used to call out people trying a little too hard to stand out.
I’m not expecting anything to change on any large scale. But I do hope that whatever ‘swag’ you’re chasing actually means something to you. Not in a deep or philosophical way. Just in an honest way. Meet your interests halfway. Let there be a reason you like the things you like. A ‘why’ that doesn’t disappear with the end of a trend.
Delivered by Cullen Avent
