I just got done reading this. And trust me, it wasn't easy.

Late to the game? Here's the recap, thus far: Kevin Barnes, leader of indie rock band Of Montreal, in 2006, decided to sell some material to Outback Steakhouse. You, know, for a laugh. Considering his willingness, up to that point, to talk a fairly big game about the integrity of art and the artist, to turn around and take the blood money, this was a pretty big slap in the face to an insular community - the music blogosphere - not used to any genuine controversy.

And, he's about to do it again, this time with T-Mobile.

So, as a pre-emptive strike, a PSA for fellow middling-indie musicians who are considering the same gambit (Band of Horses recently got cold feet about a similar deal with Wal-Mart), or just for the hell of venting, Barnes recently submitted a lengthy, bizarre screed attempting to justify both his previous decision and his impending repeat performance. Festooned with the C- term-paper title "Selling Out is Impossible", the piece has launched Barnes past "sell-out" status into "defensive, entitled sell-out" status. Nicely done.

. . . . . .

Three things before I go much further:

1. No, I'm not a fan of Of Montreal, or the milquetoast Beach-Boy harmony pop scene at all. So, let's get that one on the table as soon as possible, but also keep in mind this: my objections to Barnes are in no way rooted in music. I'm of the mind that you can make whatever music you want, and think there is no wrong reason to branch out and experiment with your career.

2. I don't idealize art by making it mutually exclusive with commerce. That said, selling a song you wrote to a major corporation, even / especially a jingle-fication of one, is purely venal. In fact, a recent article on this very blog – about the five coolest songs in commercials, or some such – was the sort of thing i was brought up to disdain, or at least be suspicious of. We're raising them to be good consumers these days I guess.

3. Please realize, as Barnes doesn't, there is a huge chasm between the musical blogosphere and, you know, the real world. Even if I wanted to go, I don't personally know where an Outback Steakhouse even is. Alas, for every one of me, there's an entire community of people who probably eat at Outback twice a week, and briefly wonder who the fruity-voiced guy singing the jingle is.

. . . . . .

In fact, that's part of what makes this article so fascinating: Barnes is so sensitive, he inflates the opprobrium of a percentage of his own fan base into his own personal bigger-than-Jesus. Especially since, strangely enough, a lot of the response to Barnes' article has been supportive and genial. You know, because selling out is a-ok these days, remember. Hell, the fact that there was any objection at all seems to have caught Barnes completely flat-footed. Alas, considering we are talking about commercials and marketing, Barnes, over-estimating both his legacy and his intelligence, made an unthinkable misstep: He didn't account for his demographic.

People like - ick - Britney Spears or whoever can sell out and emerge unscathed because, though "recording artists", they are not "artists." We are taught that people who emotionally identify with such figures are vapid dopes; we are taught that people who emotionally identify with indie-pop bands such as Of Montreal are cool, educated, cultured (while a smidge "counterculture" too, because, you know, they wear sneakers to work and stuff), and most importantly ... DON'T EAT AT PLACES LIKE OUTBACK STEAKHOUSE. Or perhaps more accurately think eating at places like Outback Steakhouse IS BENEATH THEM. One gets the sense that Barnes' shilling for Ben Sherman or Apple or something less synonymous with Fat Middle America wouldn't have made many waves. It's not that he's a shill, it's that he's a shill for a product his fans don't identify with. How he continues to miss the vagaries of that one mystifies me.

Instead, he views his fan base as a needy cabal impeding his career growth, when he even bothers to acknowledge their existence at all. In doing so, it's clear he does not have near the emotional connection with his fan base as his fans assumed he was capable of. Because, you see, it's not that Barnes is willing to throw them (and perhaps even his bandmates) under the bus for artistic, political or even philosophical considerations. He's doing it for the money. Oh, and a laugh. Hey, if your art means that little to you, Mr. Barnes, then it means that little to us as well.

. . . . . .

So, Barnes is a sell-out. In the halls of rock history, he has plenty of company. That he's sullied the good name and nature of "indie" rock is only the cherry on that sundae. But, that's hardly the entirety of my problem with Barnes' article.

Here's what's really getting to me: What's with dragging punk rock into it? When exactly did punk rock has become the new enemy? That Barnes makes punk rock, or should i say "punk rock", his red herring, is a hilarious symptom of his feverish bout of ass-covering. You know, he's had a year to think about this, he could've come up with a better scapegoat.

Naturally, he can't resist vilifying "punk rock" in the most indie, antiquated, insider manner possible: by singling out Sandanista, a triple-disc Clash album that even most Clash fans don't like. He might as well have said Cut the Crap and *really* wowed some record store nerds. Still, it's too calculated to be dismissed as pure insanity, as he chose an album no punk enthusiast could really defend, while still coming across as some glib twerp who has "outgrown" the genre, one he probably never bothered immersing himself in to begin with. Hell, i'm surprised he didn't use the term "three-chord" in there anywhere. Punk rockers were entertainers too, Mr. Barnes, and they had to put up with a lot more crap for a lot less gain than you've ever experienced. For a much more noble cause.

Still, as much as i bristled reading these passages - i could go into an even bigger sidebar piece about how the innovations of punk rock made things like the financial tenability Of Montreal even possible - i'm gonna do us all a favor and chalk this one up to really brain-dead short-hand on Barnes' part. Sandanista, what-evs.

. . . . . .

The thing is, the piece he wrote is actually quite thought-provoking, even if for all the wrong reasons. Basically, it forces us to decide whether we are the music aficionados we fancy ourselves, or the sort of mindless consumer we claim to disdain. In the last year, a lot of Of Montreal fans have, thanks to Barnes, found themselves on the wrong side of the divide. Plus he has put us maddeningly in a position where we have to ask ourselves: would we do the same thing? As cursory as Barnes’ soul searching appears to have been, most would eventually end up making the same decision. Those of us who wouldn’t - or claim they wouldn’t - will probably never have the opportunity to prove it. To Barnes, casting objectors as sanctimonious hypocrites proves too tempting to pass up. Kinda like the money.

And hopefully he got a lot of money out of the deal, and that the whole thing continues to amuse him, although judging by the pissy tone of his piece, that one has hardly panned out. Thanks to that piece, though, one thing's for certain: in the minds of anyone who’s ever heard of Barnes, he and Outback Steakhouse are now linked more than ever.

It is my prediction - and my hope - that they remain linked for the remainder of his career.