Monetize your personal life
ALWAYS BE BRANDING
Baudrillard rolling over in his grave
Saying over and over again
I warned you
The late French philosopher Jean Baudrillard, with the precision of a prophet, warned of a world where reality slips away beneath the weight of its own reflection. He spoke of “hyperreality,” a state where symbols, screens, and simulations—once mere mirrors of the world—become more meaningful than the tangible world itself. It is a world of glossy facades, where media images and manufactured moments claim the spotlight, leaving the real behind, ignored in the wings.
Baudrillard’s notion of “simulacra” painted a picture of a society obsessed with replicas, where authentic originals no longer matter. Branding is the most glaring offender—companies no longer sell products, but fantasies, ideas spun from thin air. The distance between what is real and what is perceived grows wider with every click, every ad.
He warned, too, of the peril that comes when individuals “brand” their own lives, crafting online personas that look more like advertisements than lived experience. As digital existence takes over, the lines blur between the self and the screen. Genuine human connection is filtered, mediated, and finally eroded, leaving behind a culture steeped in superficiality, where true authenticity is the thing that has all but disappeared.
Louisville Kentucky’s Charm School is igniting our ears with a caustic post-punk single: Crime Time, and they aren’t joking around. This isn’t even their first song about Baudrillard! Their previous EP, Finite Jest, also touched upon these societal themes with impressive insight and depth. The philosopher might have passed nearly two decades ago, but Charm School has a lot to add to the conversation…and with the brilliant Crime Time, they deliver it with gusto.
Andrew Rinehart, born Andrew Sellers, once known for his folk-laden lyricism and his work with Bonnie “Prince” Billy, now charges into a far rougher, razor-edged territory, trading gentle strumming for snarling riffs. It’s a bold, blistering shift, shedding skin and form to embrace the ferocity of punk and hardcore, a sound soaked in adrenaline. Gone are the quiet musings, replaced by a raw, unrelenting energy that pulses with purpose.
This track bursts forth with lo-fi grit, howling with urgency. It calls to mind the chaotic brilliance of The Fall, the jagged edges of Magazine, and the brutal beauty of The Birthday Party. Screaming vocals cut through the static, carrying a political fervor that feels both reckless and righteous. There’s a kindred spirit here, too, with the Mekons, the sound swirling like a storm, messy and magnificent. Rinehart stands unflinching in this skin, throwing caution and convention to the wind, daring the world to keep up with the noise.
Listen to Crime Time below or order here.
Follow Charm School:
Or via: