The Birth (and Death) of the Cool Review

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(More customer reviews)Gioia has written a thought-provoking volume in which he suggests that the era of cool is over and has been replaced by postcool, a concept that he defines as a shift in popular culture from cool's supposed superficiality and ironic detachment to the supposed placement of value on authenticity, straight-forwardness and sincerity. While this makes for a nice, fun read, Gioia's book fails on a number of crucial points.
In the first place he traces the concept of cool to jazz musicians, the earliest being Bix Beiderbecke. As a personal hero of mine I fully support the notion of Bix's coolness, however, Gioia completely ignores the numerous examples of cool that exist prior to Bix gracing the Earth. Among the first to spring to mind is Oscar Wilde and those referred to collectively as dandies (a decidedly uncool word despite what it defines). Wilde even received modern-style media attention for his antics, which Gioia uses as an indicator of cool, whereas Bix had to wait long after his death to get any attention outside of jazz circles. He also ignores the large number of French writers who certainly qualify for cool: Baudelaire and Rimbaud being prime examples. Gioia then moves on to Lester Young and Miles Davis as further embodiments of cool. I would be hard pressed to find anyone who would disagree with him here.
Gioia details the tragic meeting between Beats and Capitalism. He discusses Jack Kerouac and crew and describes their influence on the nation's youth. He then reports on the reactions of the uncool (parents, the media, etc.) to this movement. It is, of course, disapproval, which, naturally, makes the Beats loom larger in the eyes of the cool kids of America and increases the appeal of the Beat aesthetic, ethics and lifestyle (a word that Gioia hates but that does have a certain utility when discussing sociological phenomena). So, as is to be expected, a marketing vampire realizes that money can be made off of the back of this movement thus taking whatever dignity it had and turning it into a tool of capitalism. Gioia believes that cool gets hijacked by the 1960's and commodified. I am in agreement up to this point.
Gioia's argument really starts to fall apart around this time. He seems to be oblivious to the fact that there is real cool and corporate cool and that the two have little to nothing in common. He goes so far as to lump Paris Hilton and Nike into cool alongside Bix and Kerouac. I highly doubt that any cool person reading this would accept a world of cool in which Lester Young and Miles Davis share space with the Backstreet Boyz, Pepsi and Kiss (all examples from the book). Only the most radically cool-challenged person would be unbothered by such a concept. Gioia uses this notion to support further arguments and examples throughout the rest of the book. This has about as much to do with the concept of cool as sex does with selling cars. Sex can be used to sell cars but in no way do cars teach us anything about sex.
Now, I understand that a definition of cool is going to be subjective and hardly scientific. I subscribe to the notion that cool, like obscenity, is known when it is seen. At least by a cool person. How do we know whether a person is cool or not? For starters, I'd say that accepting Gioia's bizarre examples of what cool is probably means that a person is very uncool. Very likely without the possibility of redemption. It'd take an awful lot of bossa nova to fix that kinda mind.
Perhaps the most shocking aspect of this book is that Gioia, who has written, amongst other things, one of the greatest books on jazz to ever have been published (West Coast Jazz: Modern Jazz in California, 1945-1960), proves himself to be so uncool. Putting aside his jaw-droppingly ambiguous stance on the value of jazz (!), his complete misunderstanding of Frank Sinatra's art, and his sympathy for the saccharine singer-songwriter infestation of the Seventies, Gioia voices his approval for Harry Potter, the rapid worldwide spread of Junior Achievement, talk radio, geek chic and a downright nauseating series of books that, by the grace of God, I had never heard of before called "The Seven Habits of Highly Effective Teens (The 7 Habits Of Highly Effective Teens). He goes on to speak admirably of a 14 year old who created an internet business that sells office furniture and the down-home sweetheart winners of American Idol as well. All this in his celebration of sincerity, authenticity and straight-forwardness. Did Gioia learn nothing from the jazz world? What is more sincere, authentic and straight-forward than a Chet Baker trumpet solo?
The world of postcool that Gioia describes is a world that has lost all of its poetry, all of its adventure; a world in which children are deprived of floating down the Mississippi and adults buy their children books on how to be better teenagers (I really cannot get over that one!); a world where not buying a brand name has become a spiritual experience; a world where status is defined downwardly but is accorded far greater value than when Kerouac donned his first pair of khakis without a single thought toward anything other than keeping his legs covered; a world in which a a TV program creates art through the votes of tasteless fools; a world where the loudest and most ugly-minded radio host rises to the top of the food chain; a world in which nuance, subtlety and style is forsaken for a false honesty that is more contrived and posed than anything to come out of the Age of Cool.
I closed this book longing for something cool (hip June Christy reference, my dear highly effective teenagers) and terrified that Gioia might be right about the direction that this country is heading, even if he happens to like it. On goes a Bud Shank record, on goes a pair of khakis and sandals, in goes the martini, flick goes the lighter.

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