Trei Degete’s video for their single, ‘Time Time’, opens with the three of them dressed in the appropriate attire of the early-aughts resurgence that’s now seeped into contemporary fashion. Acid-wash, low-slung denim, loose blouses, leather-anything and rimless, translucent sunglasses – well-dressed, idealized depictions of the past that exist in the present. But not for long, as in a Les Visiteurs manner, they travel back to different time periods, getting the locals to dance with them – all in good fun.
Back in November, Squeezie, France’s biggest vlogger, joined forces with record producer Myd, and composer Kronomuzik, to complete a challenge that required them to make a successful 2000’s hit in only three days. The video was watched 8 million times, and sold 40.000 units on the first two days of its release – all proceeds going to French NGO Secours Populaire.
Their main source of inspiration was the go-to karaoke song of any European pub – Dragostea din Tei (Words of Love), by Moldovan pop trio, O-Zone – one of the best-selling singles of all time. Cringe-worthy and camp at the same time, the camera follows the three of them strutting down an imaginary runway on a plane, shirts half-unbuttoned, self-confidence through the roof.
Lyrically speaking, in typical Eurodance fashion, both tracks have a positive, upbeat attitude. While O-Zone keep professing their love to an unknown figure, Trei Degete simply express the sheer joy of eating watermelon, a true Proust’s madeleine for any Romanian. Synth-heavy pop beats glide over the robotic sound of the percussion patterns, while underlying four-on-the-floor rhythms undergird both songs. Pioneered by gay clubs in the 70s and 80s, it was this steady pulse that lay the blueprint for disco and electronica, which has now found its way back through the resurrection (or exhumation?) of preexisting music infrastructures. This resuscitation saw the rise of artists such as Blanks (The Netherlands) and Angèle (Belgium), who tap into the happy-go-lucky retro production elements of the 80s, while Molchat Doma (Belarus) became a paragon of the synth-specked post-punk revival, also reminiscent of the coldwave genre that emerged in Europe in the late 70s.
The financial and cultural obligation of pop artists to keep coming up with novel ideas now has them gravitating toward the past, in part fueled by TikTok’s ability to make yesterday feel like last year. Looking forward seems too uncertain in late capitalism, so pop music turns its back to the modernist imperative to make it new, replicating the futurism that characterized cultural artifacts from almost half a century ago – wistful, escapist entertainment (Blade Runner, Dune, Star Wars) that wished for flying cars, as people envisioned, in a mishmash of zeal and anxiety, a world of progress with the turn of the millenium.
Psychologists say that in times of crisis it’s only natural we capitulate to nostalgia. This time, however, it conjures an overwhelming pang of ambiguity regarding what’s to come. With the ongoing health, social and climate crisis, the only way people attempt to dream about the future is by returning to the reassuring familiarity pertaining to a time when the biggest menace ended up being dust in the wind.
So today, we’re dancing forward in time, with the hopes that we’ll soon see each other on the dancefloor, leaving all fears behind.
*The concept of Nostalgia as an emotional pacifier was coined by journalist Danielle Campoamor in her article for The New York Times.
