by James Boyle
I’ve never paid much attention to the Met Gala. To me, while perhaps well-intentioned, the night has always been a doltish celebration of the celebrity elite’s very uneducated and superficial appreciation for what they see as “art” and “culture.” But something truly profound occurred at the gala this year. As the gleaming light coruscated off the endless array of cameras along the red carpet, one lonesome ray bounced off a metallic choker in the shape of the Tesla logo. Wearing this pathetic excuse for a high fashion accessory, while also standing next to Tesla CEO/union-bashing corporate pig Elon Musk, was not some reality star or CW-level actress, but… Grimes.
For those readers unfamiliar with Grimes, she is a synth-pop queen who has been a forthright feminist icon in the music industry for years, valiantly supporting other female artists and speaking out against sexism in the music industry. She’s also been incredibly vocal about her progressive politics on social media. So, to see her dating Elon Musk is uncanny, to say the least.
After overcoming the initial consternation of watching TV hosts and mainstream magazine reporters ask the question, “Who is Grimes?,” I began to bask in the utter surrealism of this new relationship. Tumblr stans and normie tweeters were somehow united in the memeification of this cultural moment. It was kinda satisfying to scroll through Twitter and see multiple screen grabs from the Fifth Element in between videos of a Grimes-like cat with a Kylo Ren voice.
But, like love, memes are fleeting. After awhile, a dark realization hit me: one of the only truly anti-capitalist artists, one of the only musicians I’ve ever fully identified with politically, was now suddenly being voluntarily absorbed by the very system she spoke out so strongly against. Within days of her Met Gala appearance, she removed the word “anti-imperialist” from her Twitter bio. In my intense disappointment at such a traitorous act, I went to a basement show and conversed with some peers about my dismay. One girl, dressed in Doc Martens and a Black Sabbath t-shirt, suggested that, “Maybe Grimes is just trying to get to the mooooon?” Did I ever mention that I fucking hate pop punk?
From there, it only got worse. In the months that followed, Grimes defended her boyfriend as he attacked unions and collective bargaining. In a since-deleted Twitter rant, she called unions a hotbed for organized crime and said that she can “respect a capitalist.” She stood silent as Musk called one of the Thai cave divers a pedophile. The saga culminated in Azealia Banks’s now-infamous visit to the Musk household. The rapper exposed the flaw in Grimes’s argument. “When you talk about white privilege and male colonialism…[Musk’s] family’s wealth is rooted in emerald and ore mines in southern Africa during apartheid,” Banks posted to her Instagram story. After the Banks’s rant, I was left with only one conclusion: Grimes is not just legitimizing capitalism; she’s a class traitor.
However, with the beauty of time, I’ve come to partially forgive the former anti-imperialist goddess. The Azealia Banks event may have actually broken up the couple, and Grimes has since tweeted that “who I’m dating is irrelevant to my music.” While I don’t fully agree, this whole melodrama begs a much larger and more important idea: no artist is completely pure in a late-capitalist society. The oases where artists can create intrinsically valuable masterpieces have pretty much all dried up, and those that are still alive are desiccating posthaste.
We can wonder about the next venture capitalist Grimes will date, or we can ask ourselves: what are we doing to create and protect safe spaces where artists can authentically and independently flourish? Are we okay with the Trump administration proposal to defund the National Endowment for the Arts? Are we okay with platforms like Spotify and Apple Music basically enslaving artists while making billions in profits? If we are, then we have to accept the fact that musicians will have to give into capitalism in order to have a fulfilling artistic experience. If we’re not okay, we need to stand up and fight back. The fight against capitalism is not only about equality and justice, it’s also about artistic purity and independence.