by Paul Klemperer

Much has been written and said lately on the national and local resurgence of swing music. As in most every cultural trend, there are pro and con factions. As an armchair revolutionary in training, it seems only appropriate to come down firmly in the middle, casting some oily sociological analysis on the troubled cultural waters.

First, while the trend is generally labelled as swing, it is only partly about the music. The other main components are the dance steps and the fashion (clothes, hair, even cars for the truly devoted). Let's examine each component on its own merits.

American preoccupation with the fashion of past eras has become an identifiable national trait. While some scholars argue that it is cyclical, based on a 20-year gap (in the 1970s we fixated on '50s fashion; in the '80s it was bell-bottoms and peace signs; in the '90s it's disco culture), this seems a bit simplistic. Clearly each decade has its own unique developments in fashion, as well as the nostalgic reinterpretation of previous decades. The common thread of fashion nostalgia is the need to act out fantasy using the past as a safe vehicle. It's like Halloween but not as intense.

At this point in the analysis, some social critics point out that it tends to be white America, more than any other ethnic group, which leads the fashion charge into the past. One explanation is that minority sub-cultures are struggling to assert their identities and have little stake in glorifying past decades when their living conditions were even worse. To the extent that they do reinterpret the past, it is with the goal of strengthening their resolve, recognizing past heroes and unsung pioneers in the struggle for a better life.

But fantasy is not necessarily a decadent thing. People need it; otherwise they wouldn't have it. It only becomes decadent, in my humble opinion, when it's separated and protected from social reality. Let's not be defensive about fantasy; let's celebrate it! You want to dress up in a double-breasted suit, two-tone wingtips and a fat tie, grow a pencil mustache, drown your hair in pomade? Go to it, I say.

The real problem with fashion is the consumer culture which controls it. Conservative as a result of market pressures, consumer culture tends to strip away the controversial, intellectually challenging parts of history, in favor of bite-sized morsels of the past. But what fun is that? What makes history interesting is the fact that in spite of all their emotional frailties and misguided beliefs, people (of all races) struggled to make things better, both for themselves and others. In the process they left to future generations hope for a better life, as well as some very cool clothes.

Which brings us to dance. Swing dancing is fun. It brings people together, and gives them a great way to express themselves, to respond to the music being played, and to look good in those cool vintage clothes. But like fashion, dance is more than a recreational diversion. The dance steps people learn today were conceived and refined over time, going back to the very beginnings of jazz. Scholars of dance history have traced a connection between swing dance steps and traditional African dances. This should be no great surprise. The music of swing has African roots, and the music and dance are part of the same cultural trajectory.

Here again some social critics say that the swing trend follows the same pattern of so many cultural trends in white America: a tradition that originates in a non-white culture is appropriated by white America, stripped of its cultural meaning, and reduced to just another recreational commodity of consumer culture. To which we might reply: "I just want to be loved. Is that so wrong?"

My point is that swing dance, like swing fashion, is a way to immerse oneself in fantasy, and that's a good thing. It doesn't have to be an isolated recreational thing. Rather it can open the door to a greater understanding of history, of what was really going on when these dances originated. As an example, some of my friends who are very much into the Austin swing scene are starting to explore the Harlem Renaissance of the 1920s and '30s, placing dances like the Jitterbug and Lindy Hop in their cultural context.

Which brings us to the music. Swing is a particular style of jazz, which had its heyday in the 1930s and '40s. Like all components of American culture, it reflects the aspirations, creativity, and contradictions of its proponents. There were sub-genres: white swing, black swing, Kansas City swing, New York society swing (strictly upper crust), female swing orchestras, to name just a few. Some of the music was great, some pretty awful. The great stuff is ours to rediscover, appreciate and expand upon. As always, the vitality of the music resides in the efforts of its players to discover and perfect new sounds.

Just as swing dancers constantly strive to add to their repertoire of moves, refining them over time, jazz musicians do the same with their music. It is a journey of discovery. A fun journey, but not a trivial, merely recreational one. If we limit ourelves to a consumer culture mentality, we miss out on how much more there is to swing music and dance.

Discovering the vitality and depth of this part of our cultural heritage can inspire us to create more beautiful things in all parts of our lives. It's not just nostalgia; it's a recognition of the creative genius of past generations. They took something from their fantasies and made it real, then passed it on to us. Let's make it real; that's where the good stuff is.