Throughout history, different social movements spanning from the political left to the political right have been associated with specific forms of music. The left-wing youth movement stemming from the student protests of 1968 is perhaps one of the most well-known examples of a social movement that was described and defined through the music of that era (Eyerman and Jamison Reference Eyerman and Jamison1998). Music has also played a part in right-wing social movements. White power music within traditional far-right groups, such as neo-Nazi skinheads, has often been the centre of public attention for these groups and for researchers attempting to understand these milieus (Cotter Reference Cotter1999; Brown Reference Brown2004; Futrell et al. Reference Futrell, Simi and Gottschalk2006; Corte and Edwards Reference Corte and Edwards2008; Shaffer Reference Shaffer2013; Teitelbaum Reference Teitelbaum2017; Dyck Reference Dyck2017). The present article is concerned with the political far right. Whereas music within traditionally far-right milieus has often been at the centre of attention, newer developments on the far right have seldom been analysed or characterised by their musical styles. The present article argues that more attention to the music style of newer groups on the far right has the potential to provide a better understanding of their worldview and the emotionality connected to it – in other words, what the participants in these groups have in common. This article exemplifies this potential through a substantial empirical analysis of the Danish Identitarian movement, called Generation Identitær (GI), and its use of the musical genre of fashwave in its online videos.
Together with movements such as the moderate parts of the Alt-Right, the Identitarian movement has been described as ‘ethnic nationalist’ (Bjørgo and Ravndal Reference Bjørgo and Ravndal2019). Categorising the Identitarian movement as such underscores the movement's focus on defending (primarily) European nations from foreign peoples and cultures, mainly Muslims (Bjørgo and Ravndal Reference Bjørgo and Ravndal2019). With historical roots in the ideologues connected to the Nazi-collaborating Vichy government in France, who would later form the New Far Right (de Benoist Reference De Benoist1977; Faye Reference Faye1981), and contemporary Identitarian leaders’ alleged history in neo-Nazi movements (see Pedersen Reference Pedersen2021, p. 66), the Identitarians have been met with criticism and accusations of being ‘rebranded racists’ and have been under surveillance by different countries’ intelligence services (Pedersen Reference Pedersen2021, p. 65). Although the Identitarian movement may not be large in numbers in all Western countries, it has a significant presence in countries such as France, Germany, Austria, and Denmark (Zúquete Reference Zúquete2018; Bjørgo and Ravndal Reference Bjørgo and Ravndal2019; Dalland Reference Dalland2019; Nissen Reference Nissen2019) and has been described as one of the main movements on the contemporary ‘new far right’ (Miller-Idriss Reference Miller-Idriss2020; Pedersen Reference Pedersen2021).
The Identitarian movement differs from traditional far-right groups, such as neo-Nazi skinheads; its members are rather more educated and resemble mainstream society in terms of their clothing, aesthetics and style (Bruns et al. Reference Bruns, Glösel and Strobl2017, p. 68; Somaskanda Reference Somaskanda2017; Zúquete Reference Zúquete2018; Nissen Reference Nissen2019, p. 173; Dalland Reference Dalland2019; Miller-Idriss Reference Miller-Idriss2020, pp. 117–20), and as the present article demonstrates below, music. As such, they can be understood as part of a trend among newer groups on the far right in which traditional white power symbols are on the decline and a more normalised appearance is becoming commonplace (Mattsson and Johansson Reference Mattsson and Johansson2021; Teitelbaum Reference Teitelbaum2017; Hermansson et al. Reference Hermansson, Lawrence, Mulhall and Murdoch2020; Miller-Idriss Reference Miller-Idriss2018; Simi and Futrell Reference Simi and Futrell2015; Cooter Reference Cooter2006). Therefore, a reason for the lack of attention to the cultural and musical side of newer far-right movements, such as the Identitarians, could be that they consist of less marginalised and more mainstream youths than, for example, skinheads, who are more obviously defined by their style, entailing more prevalent analyses of their cultural elements.
The aim of the article is, through the case of the Danish GI, to illustrate how the musical genre of fashwave, which it uses in its online videos, enables us to understand the social cohesion of the participants of the group and what they have in common. The empirical analysis shows that they share emotions of nostalgia and anger, emotions central to fashwave music. To understand this connection between emotions and music, the article draws on analytical points from the sociology of emotions and multimodal analysis as an analytical tool.
It is important to emphasise here that attempting to understand cultural elements of the far right is not the same as agreeing with or condoning their worldview. Analysing the cultural creative expressions of the far right entails an ethical dilemma or a risk of romanticising these milieus (see Larsen and Jensen Reference Larsen and Jensen2019 for a discussion of the risk of romanticising jihadi subculture; see also O'Brien Reference O'Brien2005; Hayward Reference Hayward2016). However, the article relies on what Wacquant (Reference Wacquant and Bourdieu1999, p. 152) referred to as moral bracketing and insists on grasping the meaningfulness of these milieus instead of understanding them as deviant or problematic (see also Larsen and Jensen Reference Larsen and Jensen2019), in this case, through their use of fashwave music.
The article is structured as follows: first, it presents and discusses earlier work on music in research on the far right. Then, it discusses how an emotional perspective can be fruitful for articulating the central values and emotions of the Identitarian movement. Then, the methodological section describes how the empirical material was gathered and presents the analytical tool of multimodal analysis, which is followed by an analysis of GI's online videos and uses of music. The conclusion returns to the analytical value of analysing the cultural aspects of the new far right.
Earlier work on music in research on the far right
Several scholars have focused on skinhead white power music and have argued that its stylistic expressions are connected to the value system of skinheads. Initially, subcultural theorists from the Birmingham Centre for Contemporary Cultural Studies (CCCS) used skinhead subculture as an example to illustrate how the style of a subculture reflects its central values (see Clarke Reference Clarke, Hall and Jefferson2006 [1975]; Hebdige Reference Hebdige1979). Later, Cotter (Reference Cotter1999) applied arguments from the CCCS in his analysis of neo-Nazi skinhead subculture and the role of white power rock music as a carrier of ideology. Brown (Reference Brown2004) emphasised the importance of analysing the relationship between subcultures and music through his study of how increasingly radical politics can overlap with ideas of subcultural ‘cool’. From a social semiotic approach, Machin and Richardson (Reference Machin and Richardson2012) analysed how the music of pre-1945 European fascist movements communicated discourses of unity and conformity and saw this as a way to reveal the ideas and values of the movements.
Other scholars have investigated music in far-right milieus, often with a focus on how music can be used instrumentally to build community among activists and attract new adherents and supporters. Futrell et al. (Reference Futrell, Simi and Gottschalk2006), for example, found that activists in the white power movement in the US experienced strong feelings of kinship and fellowship when participating in the movement's music scene. Corte and Edwards (Reference Corte and Edwards2008) similarly found that the role of white power music was to cultivate a collective white power identity and to recruit new adherents to the movement. Shaffer (Reference Shaffer2013) examined youth involvement in the National Front and found that by adopting skinhead aesthetics and music, the organisation could spread its ideas and attract new supporters. Dyck (Reference Dyck2017), in her exploration of contemporary white power bands, investigated the use of the internet to spread their message globally and how musicians adapt their music to different locations.
Newer developments on the far right have also attempted to reform the music scene. At times, far-right milieus in the Western world have embraced lite pop, folk music, and rap music as attempts to escape old neo-Nazi stereotypes and create new images for themselves (see, e.g. Love Reference Love2017; Teitelbaum Reference Teitelbaum2017). The genre of neofolk has also gathered attention from scholars focusing on its often veiled far-right ideological messages that fit contemporary ‘metapolitical fascism’ (Shekhovtsov Reference Shekhovtsov2009, p. 439; see also Webb Reference Webb2007).
The present study resembles other research investigating newer developments on the far right and the resulting reforms to its music scene; however, this article argues that focusing on music as a way to understand a group's collective identity, worldview, and emotions offers a different understanding from parts of earlier research on far-right music, not least analyses of fashwave music, where the focus has often been on how music can be used to recruit new members (see, e.g. Hann Reference Hann2016; Bullock and Kerry Reference Bullock and Kerry2017; Gogarty Reference Gogarty2017; Kelly Reference Kelly2017; Love Reference Love2017; Smith Reference Smith2018; Reid and Valasik Reference Reid and Valasik2020; Hermansson et al. Reference Hermansson, Lawrence, Mulhall and Murdoch2020). While this is undoubtedly the case sometimes, as far-right strategies of ‘entryism’ can be very professional, it is also a somewhat instrumental reading of the role of music. Eyerman and Jamison (Reference Eyerman and Jamison1998, pp. 161–2) argued that understanding music in social movements as merely ‘strategic weapons’ of recruitment results in a ‘trivialisation’ of these movements. Instead, according to them, music has the potential to give us access to feelings and thoughts that are shared by the collectivities. Following this potential, the present article argues that insights from the sociology of emotions combined with multimodal analysis as an analytical tool allow us to move beyond an instrumental understanding of far-right music towards an analysis of music as reflecting the central values and emotions of the milieu.
Problem analysis of society and connected emotions
Existing empirical studies have argued that the ultimate aim of the Identitarian movement is to return to an imagined past of ethnically and culturally homogenous societies (Nissen Reference Nissen2019; Zúquete Reference Zúquete2018; Dalland Reference Dalland2019). The Identitarian movement's understanding of what is wrong in society, or in other words, their problem analysis of society, is tied to the idea that Islam and Muslims pose a cultural threat. Identitarians fear an ‘Islamisation’ of society and a demographic threat, which revolves around the idea that Europe is currently undergoing a ‘Great Replacement’ that Identitarians fear will result in white Christian Europeans becoming minorities in their own countries within a few decades (Nissen Reference Nissen2019; Dalland Reference Dalland2019; Miller-Idriss Reference Miller-Idriss2020). The Danish GI recently published an opinion piece in the Danish mainstream newspaper Information that argues against the paper's earlier identification of the Great Replacement as a conspiracy theory. GI refers to demographic statistics that it believes indicate that replacement of the people in Denmark is already underway.Footnote 1 GI argues that the solution to this problem is ‘remigration’: to send illegal and criminal migrants ‘home’, to limit access for new migrants and, through different incitements such as religious restrictions for Muslims and Islam, to make migrants voluntarily leave Denmark.Footnote 2
The following sections argue that perspectives from the sociology of emotions allow us to understand the Identitarian movement as sharing an analysis of societal problems and the emotions connected to this analysis. However, adding an emotional perspective to the present analysis of the Identitarian movement, here exemplified by the Danish GI, is not an attempt to ‘emotionalise’ this group or to generalise its members as simply ‘irrational’. On the contrary, their defence of the Great Replacement theory and their ideas on how a ‘remigration’ could take place in Danish society display an intellectual and informational basis for their arguments and worldview. Notably, the emotions of nostalgia and anger that could be attached to this problem analysis are not irrational from the perspective of the participants; therefore, it is Identitarians’ self-perception that is important to understanding their motivation for participation and action.
Nostalgia
Research has often found that a sense of nostalgia is part of far-right ideology (see Steenvoorden and Harteveld Reference Steenvoorden and Harteveld2018). Far-right and populist ideology has been understood as reactionary with a nostalgic longing for the imaginary vision, or the heartland, of the past (Betz and Johnson Reference Betz and Johnson2004; Taggart Reference Taggart2004; Inglehart and Norris Reference Inglehart and Norris2016). I argue that Boym's (Reference Boym2001) notion of ‘restorative nostalgia’ can be helpful in understanding the emotions of the Identitarian movement (see also Duyvendak Reference Duyvendak2011), but also that the nostalgic emotions of the Identitarians can be understood as productive and future oriented. Relevant theoretical perspectives on nostalgia are discussed below.
Boym (Reference Boym2001) distinguished between two forms of nostalgia: restorative and reflective. Reflective nostalgia is described as nostalgia that reflects upon the past but for present purposes. The idea here is not to recreate an imagined absolute truth of the past but to think reflectively of the past as something that can be useful in future possibilities. Restorative nostalgia, on the other hand, is focused on an imagined ‘home’ of the past, which is now understood as lost. Restorative nostalgia seeks to recreate what is seen as the ‘truth’ of the past, resembling what Steiner (Reference Steiner1997) called ‘nostalgia for the absolute’. Restorative nostalgia is built on the sense of loss of community and cohesion and the loss of values such as the family, nature, homeland and truth.
Boym (Reference Boym2001) argued that the mix of restorative nostalgia and politics can turn violent if the longing for the imagined better past is something for which people are ready to die or kill. Nostalgia might thus present danger, but it can also be productive (Blunt Reference Blunt2003; Smith and Campbell Reference Smith and Campbell2017). Thinking of the past in terms of the needs of the present can affect how we want to shape the future (Boym Reference Boym2001; Smith and Campbell Reference Smith and Campbell2017). Nostalgia can thus be felt as both loss and hope (Pickering and Keightley Reference Pickering and Keightley2006; Cheung et al. Reference Cheung, Wildschut, Sedikides, Hepper, Arndt and Vingerhoets2013; Smith and Campbell Reference Smith and Campbell2017) and as a useful emotion that can provide an outlook on the future (see Davis Reference Davis1977, Reference Davis1979) and strengthen social connectedness (Wildschut et al. Reference Wildschut, Sedikides, Arndt and Routledge2006, Reference Wildschut, Sedikides, Routledge, Arndt and Cordaro2010). In this way, nostalgia should be understood as versatile. It has been described as an emotion (see, e.g. Boym Reference Boym2001; Smith and Campbell Reference Smith and Campbell2017), a sentiment (Boym Reference Boym2001; Sayers Reference Sayers2020, p. 21), a feeling (Sayers Reference Sayers2020, p. 25) and an affect (Boym Reference Boym2001); thus, as the analysis of online GI videos will show, nostalgia can be mobilised in different ways. The videos also show that nostalgia is often connected to anger. The following will present different perspectives on anger.
Anger
Sociologists of emotion have often treated emotions such as hate, resentment and anger as connected (see, e.g. Ellsworth and Scherer Reference Ellsworth, Scherer, Davidson, Goldsmith and Scherer2003, p. 575; Berkowitz and Harmon-Jones Reference Berkowitz and Harmon-Jones2004; Smith and Kirby Reference Smith and Kirby2004). In analysing different emotions, theorists of the sociology of emotion have argued that anger is a motivator for action and that a perceived threat is a core form of anger provocation (Schieman Reference Schieman, Stets and Turner2006). Although writing about the related emotion of hate, Ahmed (Reference Ahmed2001) argued that these kinds of emotions, on the one hand, are characterised by a subject imagining a threat from others who threaten to take something away from the subject; on the other hand, emotions such as hate also enable the creation of community and togetherness among those who share such emotions and, therefore, also declare a love for that which is imagined as threatened. According to Ahmed (Reference Ahmed2001, p. 348), emotions such as hate should not be seen as a psychological disposition. Instead, emotions do things – they align individuals with communities. Emotions such as anger, hate and, we can add, nostalgia can thus not only divide people but also unite individuals with shared emotions and worldviews. Collins (Reference Collins2004) similarly argued that emotions such as anger can lead to action, especially when felt as righteous anger. This is a form of anger that is shared by a group and targets persons perceived as violating the symbols that the group perceive as sacred; Collins (Reference Collins2004, p. 127) argued that this form of anger is especially prevalent when a group has a local rather than a cosmopolitan focus.
Applying these analytical insights from the sociology of emotions can help us understand the emotions attached to GI's problem analysis of society. Revising Ahmed's (Reference Ahmed2001) perspective, we can argue that the Identitarian movement contains emotions of anger, or at least frustration, directed towards cultural and religious minorities, mainly Muslims, and liberal elites who Identitarians believe support a globalised societal structure that facilitates immigration (see Nissen Reference Nissen2019). Importantly, according to Ahmed's perspective, this anger or frustration also creates a sense of community. This sense of community can be even more strongly felt when anger becomes righteous anger (Collins Reference Collins2004). The Identitarian movement has a local focus and values what it perceives to be sacred symbols: symbols of ethnic, national and European identity and culture. Their anger or frustration can be intensified towards those they believe are threatening these symbols, and this can also intensify their feelings of togetherness. Furthermore, this anger can be understood as tied to collective emotions of restorative nostalgia (Boym Reference Boym2001) towards an imagined past that they seek to restore. I believe these emotions are important to understand what participants in the Identitarian movement have in common, but also to understand the correspondence between the movement and the music linked to it. The argument is that nostalgia and (righteous) anger permeate the genre of fashwave music, which the Identitarian movement use in their online videos. These videos and the music thus provide an empirical way to investigate the shared emotions of the Identitarians. This will be the focus of the following analysis.
Empirical material and analytical tools
Below, I analyse online videos produced by GI and their use of fashwave music. The empirical material analysed in this article is part of a larger online investigation of the far right in Denmark. From a non-participatory field position, I have studied different groups and organisations on the far right through their online content, their live streaming of demonstrations, and not least, their use of music.
As analytical tools to investigate the online videos of the Danish GI, I have relied on multimodal analysis (see, e.g. Kress and Van Leeuwen Reference Kress and Van Leeuwen2001; Machin Reference Machin2007; Jewitt Reference Jewitt and Jewitt2014a, Reference Jewitt and Jewitt2014b). Multimodal research provides a way to analyse the full repertoire of meaning-making resources that people use to communicate, including text, sound, video, and music (Jewitt Reference Jewitt and Jewitt2014a, p. 16), and has previously been used to study the music of far-right movements (see Machin and Richardson Reference Machin and Richardson2012). As such, it is a valuable tool to understand the meanings of the different semiotic resources that GI uses in its videos, i.e. how music, sounds, videos, settings, etc. interact to create specific meanings. The focus in multimodal analysis is thus on how different systems of meaning interact and contribute to the multimodal ensemble (Jewitt Reference Jewitt and Jewitt2014a, p. 27). The analysis will rely on a social semiotic approach to multimodality, which focuses on how sign-makers in this case shape signs and meanings. Through such an analysis, we are also able to understand the sign-maker's interest (Machin Reference Machin2007, p. 23; Jewitt Reference Jewitt and Jewitt2014b, pp. 32–3). This approach is interested in the ‘connotations’ or ‘hidden’ meaning of an image or sign. Importantly, this does not mean that signs have fixed meanings. Instead, they have meaning potentials (see Machin Reference Machin2007, p. 22), which invites us to investigate the ideas and values we associate with an image.
The empirical material gathered for this analysis consists of the videos that GI has uploaded to its YouTube channel. I watched all 70 videos available on their channel when writing this paper. The first video was uploaded in 2017, and within the last year, GI has posted approximately 20 videos. The channel is an important venue to understand the worldview, values and emotions of the group. The criteria for choosing which videos to include in the analysis were that they were illustrative of GI's use of fashwave music style and that they provided insight into the group's value system, worldview and emotions. Several other videos also fulfil these criteria but were left out of the analysis to fit the scope of the article. Other videos were left out because they did not use fashwave-style music.
Multimodal analysis of different aspects of communication and different systems of meaning in combination with perspectives from the sociology of emotions function as a valuable way of investigating GI's use of the emotion-permeated genre of fashwave in its multimodal ensemble, i.e. its videos. I have focused on how the music is integrated with the content shown in the videos and particularly on the videos’ style and aesthetics, symbols, and manifest words and text. I have also analysed the music that GI uses and the symbols, style, and aesthetics in the videos accompanying the music to understand the connection between the music used and GI's values, worldview, and emotions. Importantly, however, I cannot within the scope of this article say how the videos and music are actually interpreted by viewers/listeners.
From vaporwave to fashwave
To understand fashwave as a music style that fits GI's worldview and connected emotions, we first need to turn to the genre of which fashwave is an offshoot, namely, vaporwave.
Vaporwave emerged and became popular through digital platforms such as Bandcamp and Soundcloud in approximately 2013 (Harper Reference Harper2017; Glitsos Reference Glitsos2018). According to Glitsos (Reference Glitsos2018), the main artists lauded in the genre are Chuck Person, James Ferraro, Skylar Pence, and Macintosh Plus. Vaporwave tracks are typically 2–3 minutes long and consist of keyboard synth and a basis of digitally looped fragments of pre-existing songs, where the pitch is altered and the tempo of the music is slowed so that the vocals and instruments of the original songs are almost unrecognisable. Accordingly, vaporwave music is highly inspired by the sound of the 1980s and early 1990s (Tanner Reference Tanner2016; Glitsos Reference Glitsos2018; McLeod Reference McLeod2018; Whelan and Nowak Reference Whelan and Nowak2018).
In addition to the music itself, an important element of vaporwave is its visual components. The visual components of vaporwave have been described as ‘retrofuturist’ (McLeod Reference McLeod2018) and ‘collage’ (Glitsos Reference Glitsos2018) aesthetics. These descriptions refer to a specific vaporwave style that mixes the technoculture of the 1980s and 1990s with historic art such as Greek or Roman statues or commercial images from the 1980s and 1990s. This mix of references to different periods of time in both the music itself and its visual components has been identified as a satire, or critique, of late capitalism's lifestyle, iconography, and ideology (Ward Reference Ward2014; Jukić Reference Jukić2019). Others have, however, emphasised that vaporwave is not a politically critical genre; in fact, it should be understood as politically neutral and devoted to the recollection and nostalgic memories of an idealised (predominantly suburban American) lifestyle of the 1980s and 1990s (Glitsos Reference Glitsos2018). Killeen (Reference Killeen2018) argued that vaporwave attempts to capture the affective elements of lived life in the 1980s. Therefore, emotions of nostalgia play a primary role in this music style. Vaporwave is a way to explore the affective and emotional attachments to the sounds and images of (for many listeners) a past childhood or youth – in other words, the myths about happiness and ‘the good life’ of an imagined or real past. In this way, it resembles Boym's (Reference Boym2001) notion of a reflective nostalgia that through humour and irony values the shattered fragments of memory. Importantly, however, the feelings of nostalgia derived from vaporwave are not directed at something or someone; instead, vaporwave conveys a feeling of affective openness (Killeen Reference Killeen2018) – we are not told what to do with our nostalgic emotions.
This is where the offshoot genre of fashwave departs from vaporwave. Fashwave music is essentially the same music style as vaporwave but, whereas vaporwave is a value-neutral genre, fashwave adds an ideological position (fash = fascism). In 2016, a leading person of Stormfront, a popular far-right website, declared synthwave, a similar genre to vaporwave, the official soundtrack of the Alt-Right.Footnote 3 Since then, various groups and milieus on the far right have adopted this music style (see, e.g. Bullock and Kerry Reference Bullock and Kerry2017). Fashwave music and aesthetics revolve around a critique of immigration: through visual components and symbolism, and music with soundscapes that creates a sense of ‘alarm’ and that action is required (see below), fashwave express ideas of foreign peoples and cultures as ‘intruders’ and that soon a Great Replacement will exchange white Europeans with minorities in European nations. Fashwave music thus often portrays a restorative nostalgic (Boym Reference Boym2001) desire to return to a perceived ‘greater’ and more homogenous past. These ideas and worldviews are presented in a way that ranges from directly violent, with Nazi-inspired messages and symbols, to a more abstract focus on heritage and identity. Some of the most well-known fashwave artists that represent this range are C Y B E R N Δ Z I, Xurious, and dotL0ki x RetroRebel.
C Y B E R N Δ Z I, an anonymous electronic music producer, represents a part of fashwave music that is overtly Nazi-inspired and violent in its messaging, style, and symbols. In 2016, he released the albums Galactic Lebensraum and Angry Goy, with song titles such as ‘Right Wing Death Squads’ and ‘Guardians of Europe’. These titles clearly carry an ideological message or meaning by referring to Nazi ideas of ‘Lebensraum’, the expansion of Germany into Central and Eastern Europe, and through a plea for Europeans to fight for their nations. These ideological standpoints are also evident in other semiotic resources, namely the aesthetics of the artist's videos, which include traditional Nazi symbols and heroisations of computer games’ Hitler villains. C Y B E R N Δ Z I uses the references to popular culture common in vaporwave aesthetics but mixes them with far-right ideologies and aesthetics and messages of violence, which are not normally found in the vaporwave style. Accordingly, C Y B E R N Δ Z I embodies the more violent and angry branch of fashwave music.
The music and aesthetics of other fashwave artists, such as UK-based Xurious and Germany-based dotL0ki x RetroRebel, are less overtly violent and angry. dotL0ki x RetroRebel's tracks are in the classic vaporwave style, sometimes resembling chillwave that connotes a more relaxed state through use of slower tempo compared with the mentioned songs by C Y B E R N Δ Z I. The only semiotic resources that reveal dotL0ki x RetroRebel's far-right ideological standpoint and message are the titles of their songs and, to a lesser extent, some of the visuals accompanying these songs. Some song titles are, for example, ‘#FREERIGHTWINGISM’Footnote 4 and ‘DEFENDERS OF VIENNA’.Footnote 5 The first refers directly to their ideological standpoint, and the second connotes a more hidden meaning as it refers to the siege of Vienna in 1529, when the Ottoman Empire attempted to capture the city of Vienna in Austria.Footnote 6 Some of their songs include symbols carrying specific meanings such as the lambda,Footnote 7 the symbol of the Identitarian movement, which is a reference to the battle of Thermopylae in which soldiers from the Greek city-state of Sparta fought the invading Persian Empire (Pinto Reference Pinto2019). Xurious’ music and aesthetics are similar to those of dotL0ki x RetroRebel. Xurious has released songs with titles such as ‘Revolt Against the Modern World’Footnote 8 and ‘Ode to Son’,Footnote 9 where he depicts European heritage as superior and promotes a restorative nostalgic desire to return to a past of perceived greatness, for example, through the use of classical paintings to show a cultural and philosophical heritage and through poems to demonstrate how European heritage and history are passed down to Europe's sons, who must continue to defend it. These are accompanied by vaporwave music.
Fashwave music ranges from overtly Nazi-inspired, violent and sonically perceivable as aggressive or angry, to ‘softer’ electronic music, which is more focused on heritage and identity without being ‘angry’ music per se. However, what all fashwave music often shares is a problem analysis and connected emotions. The emotion of restorative nostalgia is central; shown, for example, through references to an imagined past of a more homogenous, more renowned European population or, in vaporwave style, through the ‘good life’ of an imagined past. Underlying and connected to the emotion of nostalgia is, I argue, a form of righteous anger (Collins Reference Collins2004), sometimes expressed directly, other times more subtly, in the music. This anger is directed towards those who are to blame for the ‘intrusion’ of Europe, which will end in a ‘Great Replacement’, i.e. immigrants, mainly Muslims, and the liberal elites who promote a globalised societal structure that endangers sacred symbols of European heritage and culture.
Generation Identitær and fashwave
Several subgroups of the Identitarian movement have adopted fashwave music style as part of their cultural repertoire, especially as part of their online video material.Footnote 10 Here, I focus on one of these subgroups, the Danish GI.
Unusual even for far-right groups that often use fashwave music, GI produced and published its own fashwave song, ‘Søren Hviid Wave’, in 2017.Footnote 11 Søren Hviid Pedersen is a Danish national conservative opinion-maker and former associate professor of political science at the University of Southern Denmark. GI's song consists of different meaning-making resources as it is a mix of excerpts from one of Pedersen's speeches and vaporwave style music and aesthetics. The song opens with vaporwave music, and then Pedersen says, ‘The country and the Europe we know and identify with is changing […] especially in connection with multiculturalism, migration, and especially around Islam’.Footnote 12 The electronic music then continues at a higher tempo before slowing for the next excerpt from the speech: ‘A feeling of loss of identity and a fear of losing traditions and becoming a minority in one's own country […] that is what you react against’. The upbeat, energetic electronic music then continues before the final excerpt from the speech:
It is not just social problems but also cultural and civilizational problems that are at stake here […] It is cultural and civilizational problems that might be unsolvable, but that we have to handle in some way. This is the battle of the political agenda – that is, is this a social problem, or is it a clash of cultures and a clash of civilizations?
The song is accompanied by a vaporwave style collage. The title of the song, ‘Søren Hviid Wave’, is written in pastel colours in a retrofuturistic 1980s style. The background consists of a picture of Marmorkirken, a famous church in Copenhagen, with bright lights beaming from the church's roof. The church probably represents a valued Christian cultural heritage, and through this use of the church, it becomes a response to Islam and Muslims, which Søren Hviid Pedersen names as cultural and demographic threats to Denmark and Europe. A picture of Pedersen is in the foreground, almost as if he is protecting the church. The interaction of the different semiotic resources of the vaporwave music, the speech by a national conservative opinion-maker and the vaporwave aesthetics accompanying the song make up a multimodal ensemble that provides an understanding of GI's problem analysis, and it embodies some of the emotions connected to this analysis. Even though the music in this case is not easily categorised as ‘angry’, as white power rock is, the song still conveys anger through the use of Pedersen's speech. It shows a form of righteous anger (Collins Reference Collins2004): GI is angry at Muslims who they perceive as threatening sacred values and symbols such as the church, identity and tradition, and it is angry at politicians who do not recognise that this is a civilizational and cultural problem and not a social problem. It also displays a restorative nostalgic (Boym Reference Boym2001) desire to return to a past with a more homogenous Danish society, where a perceived ‘true’ identity can be fulfilled again. We can understand GI's production of its own fashwave song as part of a ‘hidden’ meaning of GI. Outsiders may not comprehend the meaning behind producing exactly this kind of music and calling the song ‘Søren Hviid Wave’. It requires inside knowledge about the group and its use of signs and symbols and about the genre of fashwave to decipher the meaning and attached emotions behind the song; arguably, this ‘exclusiveness’ could be part of the enjoyment of producing such a song. Hence, the video is accompanied by a short text written by GI: ‘When we need energy and motivation Monday morning, we of course listen to Søren Hviid Wave’. Accordingly, we can understand fashwave music as something that is joyful for GI members and as part of the hidden meaning, or language, of this group – in other words, a part of the connotative meanings that constitute the community and exclusivity of the group. We can also understand the upbeat style of the music as instilling a motivation to do something about what it perceives as wrong with the current state of society and to act upon the emotions of anger and nostalgia. As such, it can be understood as an example of how nostalgia can also be a productive emotion (Smith and Campbell Reference Smith and Campbell2017; Blunt Reference Blunt2003; Boym Reference Boym2001). This motivation is evident in GI's other online videos where the group also uses fashwave music.
One of the most common types of videos that GI publishes on its YouTube channel is what it calls ‘action videos’. These are often videos of GI members hanging large banners with an ideological message in public spaces. Two examples of these videos from 2019, which include fashwave music, are ‘Stop the Great Replacement! – Action in Nørrebro’Footnote 13 and ‘Action in Aalborg: Stop the Great Replacement!’Footnote 14 The ideological statement in these videos is evident in their titles and in the messages on the banners that they present. In addition to the communication through the visual content of the videos, both videos are accompanied by fashwave tracks from RetroRebel x dotL0ki. The video filmed in Nørrebro, a section of Copenhagen that is one of the most multicultural areas in Denmark, starts with the introduction from a track called ‘Glitched Utopia’Footnote 15 while offering footage from the streets of Nørrebro. The video shows immigrant families on the streets, women wearing veils, immigrant men selling different products under a bridge and buildings covered in graffiti. The ominous and dissonant synth brass soundscape used in the introduction is ‘alarmist’, meaning that the viewer feels a sense that something is wrong. The setting itself here becomes part of the connotative meaning of the video. Nørrebro is portrayed as ‘anti-Danish’ or a part of Denmark that has been ‘invaded’ by Muslims and Islam. Nørrebro and its connotative meaning becomes what GI demonstrates against in the video. The video then cuts to GI members running up the stairs to a train station in Nørrebro – the music here becomes upbeat and energetic as the GI members hang the banner reading ‘Stop the Great Replacement’ from a bridge that crosses a main street in Nørrebro.
The video from Aalborg follows the same structure. Here, the track ‘Neon Reconquista’Footnote 16 accompanies the action in the video. The GI members hang their banner on the main bridge in Aalborg. They ignite flares, and they all chant with their fists in the air. The title of the fashwave track in the video is a reference to the Reconquista of the Iberian Peninsula, where Christian states sought to recapture territory that the Muslims had captured in the early 8th century.Footnote 17
In this way, through the different semiotic resources used and adopted by the group, the multimodal ensemble of the videos provides insight into GI's problem analysis. What from the outside appears to be mainstream electronic music has another meaning as part of GI's code or ‘hidden’ meaning. By using this form of fashwave music in its online videos to express what it perceives is wrong with society, GI draws on classic vaporwave emotionality and the associated emotions of nostalgia for an imagined better past while adding an ideological element that is not present in vaporwave music. The nostalgia here becomes a restorative nostalgia that idealises the past in light of a critique of the present. However, it can also be understood as productive nostalgic emotions, as GI through its activism fights for what it perceives will be a better future. The music also fits the way GI members understand themselves, as modern representatives of the Reconquista, defending the European heritage, identity, and future against perceived Muslim intruders. Drawing on ‘hidden’ connotations of fashwave music can be understood as a factor that adds to the exclusivity and community of the group – aspects that an outsider would not necessarily comprehend. Furthermore, the emotionality connected to GI members’ problem analysis of society and to their understanding of themselves and their role in this analysis is evident in the videos. They turn their righteous anger (Collins Reference Collins2004) towards the Muslim population in Denmark, and they show this by situating their banners and demonstrations in the areas with the largest Muslim populations in Denmark while expressing their anger by holding flares and chanting.
Another example of how the semiotic resource of fashwave music style provides insight into GI's problem analysis and emotions is the video ‘Europe is ours! – Action in Rådhuspladsen’.Footnote 18 The video is from 1 June 2019, when there was an Islamic event at Rådhuspladsen during Ramadan. Rådhuspladsen, the main city square in Copenhagen, often used for large national celebrations such as the national teams’ football and handball victories, was filled with Muslims celebrating Ramadan. As the sun was about to set, an Islamic prayer was given. As the prayer began, GI members who had rented a hotel room overlooking Rådhuspladsen displayed a large banner with the text ‘Europe is ours’. The video starts with footage on the ground at Rådhuspladsen showing the Muslims who had gathered, some carrying food, some preparing to pray. We hear an Islamic prayer as the video starts, with underlying fashwave style music. We then see a clip of the GI activists preparing to display the banner. Islamic prayer continues to be played, as well as the underlying fashwave style music. We then see a GI member preparing to give a speech through a megaphone. He steps out on the balcony of the hotel room and begins his speech:
Today, thousands are gathered to celebrate a foreign and hostile religion in the middle of our city. Our most well-known square has been transformed from Copenhagen to Mecca. A symptom of a development we have seen for years; the population of our country is slowly changing beyond recognition. Many have tried to warn us, but we did not listen. Now we are here – in a country that might be changed forever. The country that our forefathers died for. The country that our children shall inherit. But we will not give our country and Europe away. We will never be defeated. We will never give up. This is Europe – not your caliphate! Mark our words – Europe shall forever be ours. EUROPE IS OURS! EUROPE IS OURS! EUROPE IS OURS!
While he delivers the speech, the Islamic prayer that we heard in the beginning disappears. We see the banner from Rådhuspladsen while the speech is given, and we see some of the gathered Muslims filming the speech and banner with their phones. As the speech ends and the GI members collectively yell ‘EUROPE IS OURS!’, the fashwave style music is amplified. The show of emotion here is evident. The GI members clearly express a form of righteous anger (Collins Reference Collins2004) towards the Muslims at Rådhuspladsen, who are seen as symbolising the process of replacing white Europeans as majorities in their own countries and as defiling a sacred national symbol such as Rådhuspladsen. The Muslims are thus the target of the emotion of anger expressed in the video. By drawing on the tradition of vaporwave style and emotions, the emotion of anger is, however, closely linked to emotions of restorative nostalgia for an imagined time before the ‘foreign and hostile’ Muslims came to Denmark and Europe, which is also stated in the speech.
This form of nostalgia can also be found in other GI videos. An example is ‘Memorial procession for the battle at Kahlenberg’ from 2019.Footnote 19 This is a multimodal ensemble drawing on different systems of meaning and associations. The title refers to the 1683 Battle of Vienna that took place at Kahlenberg, near Vienna in Austria, when a Christian coalition defeated a force from the Ottoman Empire. The video shows Danish GI members attending a demonstration in Vienna. We see the demonstrators walking through the streets with torches and a large banner that says ‘Liberation of Vienna 1683 – Defend Europe!’ and banners showing a caricature of Marco d'Aviano, an Italian Capuchin friar who played a crucial role in uniting the Christian coalition against the Ottoman Turks. Accompanying the video is a fashwave track from Xurious called ‘Apotheosis’.Footnote 20 The track starts out very calm, similar to a hymn. This section is used in the video, as we see the demonstrators walking with banners and torches. The term apotheosis means elevating someone or something to a godlike stature. The song itself does not indicate that it has anything to do with the far right. It is not ‘angry’ or ‘hate’ music in its style. To grasp the ‘hidden’ connotative meaning of the song in GI's use, we need to understand the underlying messages of fashwave music. Using this song in a video about a historic battle between a Christian coalition and a Muslim empire emphasises the status that GI accords to the Christians who actively fought against Muslims to defend their own territory. The video becomes an example of the strong emotion of nostalgia – a nostalgic remembrance of those who fought for white Christian identity and heritage. These are the values that GI wants to resurrect in contemporary society, where it identifies problems similar to those experienced by those who fought in the Battle of Vienna. There is thus a restorative nostalgic longing for an (imagined) monocultural and more ethnically homogenous past. As discussed above, nostalgia is fundamental to vaporwave music, but as shown here, fashwave nostalgia does not reminisce about ‘the good life’ of a carefree childhood but rather about an imagined past of ethnic and cultural homogeneity. By combining vaporwave style and far-right ideology, the use of fashwave as a semiotic resource enables us to understand how emotions of anger and nostalgia are connected. Anger is expressed towards Muslims, whom the GI blames for the Great Replacement that will, in essence, make Denmark a Muslim majority country in the future. The anger resembles Collins’ (Reference Collins2004) notion of righteous anger, as it is directed at those believed to be threatening sacred national symbols, values and traditions. Nostalgic emotions are directed at an imagined past before Denmark and Europe became ‘infected’ with Muslims and Islam, resembling Boym's (Reference Boym2001) notion of restorative nostalgia. Fashwave thus adds an element of political analysis that was not previously part of vaporwave, and it adds connected emotions of anger and new emotions of nostalgia. In this way, fashwave music style and aesthetics embody and enable us to understand the shared values and emotions of ethnic nationalist groups such as GI.
Emotions such as nostalgia and anger can, however, also have another effect. Anger is often directed at someone or something specific, and through this process, anger can also unite those who share the emotion and agree on the targets of the anger (Ahmed Reference Ahmed2001). Similarly, emotions of nostalgia can be important in building community and social connectedness (Wildschut et al. Reference Wildschut, Sedikides, Arndt and Routledge2006, Reference Wildschut, Sedikides, Routledge, Arndt and Cordaro2010). At the end of the video from Vienna, we observe GI members having a good time drinking beers with other demonstrators as the music becomes more energetic and upbeat. In the video from Rådhuspladsen, the community shared by the GI members is emphasised, and we obtain a sense of their togetherness as they yell ‘Europe is ours’ at the Muslims in the square. Other videos more directly depict the community among GI members, and these videos are also accompanied by fashwave music. The video ‘Identitær weekend 2019’ shows GI members at a summer house taking part in activities such as boxing, training, running, playing guitar, swimming in the ocean, and discussing politics and philosophy. The video is accompanied by L0ki x RetroRebel's track ‘#FREERIGHTWINGISM’,Footnote 21 which is upbeat and energetic and reflects the sense of community and togetherness portrayed in the video. Accordingly, we can observe how a shared understanding of problems in society, a shared object of anger, a shared idea of a better version of society, and a shared understanding of precisely how it was better in the past can instil a sense of community. In this way, emotions of anger and nostalgia can be understood as productive. As Ahmed (Reference Ahmed2001) argued, emotions do things; they align individuals with communities. These feelings of togetherness and community can be understood as part of the attraction to groups such as GI.
The use of fashwave music itself can also be understood as creating a form of community or part of the community of groups such as GI. Eyerman and Jamison (Reference Eyerman and Jamison1998, pp. 161–3) argued that the construction of meaning through music is a central aspect of collective identity formation in social movements and that music binds the individual to a collective consciousness through the memories it invokes (see also Street Reference Street2012). Fashwave music is at its core oriented towards the perceived greater past. As such, this music, by invoking memories of the past, binds GI members to a collective consciousness that is rooted in an appraisal of the perceived glories of a shared past of the European people. Furthermore, most fashwave music can, as mentioned above, be understood as a form of coded language, resembling what Shekhovtsov (Reference Shekhovtsov2009) called apoliteic music. The music itself often does not reveal an ideological position or far-right worldview. Typically, it is only the title of the song that expresses its ideology, although sometimes this is not the case, as in, for example, some of the songs that GI uses in its online videos. Knowing the inherent ideological position of fashwave music and the symbolic meaning of its songs and aesthetics, therefore, could also be understood as part of collective identity formation. In other words, if one knows that GI calls its song ‘Søren Hviid Wave’ because this is a reference to the genre of fashwave, and if one knows that the songs in the ‘action videos’ are actually from fashwave artists, then one is in the know – he or she carries the knowledge, values and ideas of the group. This knowledge often pertains to the few; typically, only the insiders know the meaning of the music style, and this knowledge can be understood as adding to the feeling of community and togetherness among the participants in the group. From a researcher's standpoint, attempts to decipher the meaning of the music can provide valuable insights into the values, worldviews and emotions of these milieus.
Conclusion
Traditional far-right groups, such as neo-Nazi skinheads, have often been analysed through their cultural style, particularly their musical style. Angry white power rock has characterised the movement and the worldview and values of its participants (Cotter Reference Cotter1999; Brown Reference Brown2004; Futrell et al. Reference Futrell, Simi and Gottschalk2006; Corte and Edwards Reference Corte and Edwards2008; Shaffer Reference Shaffer2013; Dyck Reference Dyck2017). This article has sought to articulate the musical style of groups that are part of newer developments on the far right.
Fashwave has often been analysed and understood as something far-right groups deliberately use to recruit new adherents and supporters because the music style resonates with young people (see, e.g. Hann Reference Hann2016; Bullock and Kerry Reference Bullock and Kerry2017; Kelly Reference Kelly2017; Gogarty Reference Gogarty2017; Love Reference Love2017; Smith Reference Smith2018; Reid and Valasik Reference Reid and Valasik2020; Hermansson et al. Reference Hermansson, Lawrence, Mulhall and Murdoch2020). This is undoubtedly sometimes the case. However, solely focusing on music as part of a recruitment strategy is a rather instrumental reading. Eyerman and Jamison (Reference Eyerman and Jamison1998, p. 162) argued that understanding culture primarily as a weapon in strategic battles trivialises social movements. According to them, cultural aspects, more specifically music, of social movements are about meaning and identity. Accordingly, this article has investigated the relationship between the worldview, problem analysis and emotions of the Identitarian movement and fashwave music and the music's role in building community. The analysis showed that by using fashwave music with roots in vaporwave, GI utilises a music genre that is closely attached to emotions of nostalgia. In its use of this music style, we gain an understanding of its restorative nostalgic desire to return to an imagined past of a more culturally and ethnically homogenous society and connected emotions of righteous anger towards those who are to blame for the current situation and the ongoing replacement of the Danish/European people. The fashwave songs that GI uses in its online videos cannot be deemed ‘angry’ in the same way as, for example, white power rock. GI's anger is more subtle and connected to the emotion of nostalgia for something that has been lost. In this way, GI's music fits the group's worldview and emotions, distinguishing it from more traditional far-right groups. Therefore, even though fashwave music might be a rather marginal genre in a wider framework, the analysis of the cultural expression of newer groups on the far right, such as the Identitarian movement, offers insight into the values, worldviews and emotions of these milieus.
As mentioned in the introduction, an analysis of the creative cultural expressions of the far right involves a risk of romanticising the milieu, and focusing on the shared emotions to comprehend the mechanisms behind the emergence of and community within it may add to that risk (see Larsen and Jensen Reference Larsen and Jensen2019 for a discussion of the risk of romanticising the jihadi subculture; see also O'Brien Reference O'Brien2005; Hayward Reference Hayward2016). Analysis of the cultural expressions and emotions of the Identitarian movement, however, is not the same as political sympathy. Instead, it should be seen as part of an attempt to understand the milieu, what its participants have in common and what drives them. Thus, importantly, the present analysis of GI's cultural style, in this case fashwave, constitutes an important contribution to the study of the broader cultural and social ecology of newer groups and milieus on the far right, such as the Identitarian movement, which is important in its own right.
Funding
This work was supported by VELUX FONDEN under grant number 34958.
Acknowledgements
This article is part of the research project ‘Anger – A Study of Norms for the Expression and Justification of Anger’ at Aalborg University. I would like to thank Annick Prieur, Sune Qvotrup Jensen, Merete Monrad, Morten Kyed, and Betül Özkaya for comments on the article.