Attn Melb Rocker Dudes: A Simpsons Meme IG Account is Calling Your Shit Out
Picture Snake from The Simpsons posing like a French girl, looking alluring and sultry in an insta post captioned: “Wears nail polish but not condoms.” Are you triggered?
I am. I’m from Melbourne and that photo immediately hit me in the gut. To a Melburnian, memes like this tell a thousand relatable words.
Memes and Melbourne go hand in hand. Memes being the digital form of language that demonstrate sophistication, cultural awareness, humour and self-deprecation, while Melbourne breeds hipsters, coffee snobs, low-brow comedy and kulcha — to meme is to take the piss, and in Melbourne, we’ve got plenty to piss about.
Melbourne Gen Zs and Millenials consider themselves some of the coolest cats in the meme game, so it was only a matter of time before a few — presumably Northside — meme lords streamlined some rel8able #goodcontent in the most local fashion, but it isn’t just a piss-take.
Early last month, an account dubbed @PutBartOnTheDoor slid under the radar through an untapped niche: the Melbourne Rocker Scene. Its visuals, of course, drawn from the unlimited pool that is 34,353 seasons of Matt Groening’s The Simpsons.
It wasn’t long before everyone caught site of their Frinkiac-generated funnies filtering through insta stories and shares. In a matter of weeks, the account caught reach of over 6000 followers and a plethora of special mentions from live music venues such as The Corner Hotel and Old Bar. But why the hype?
While most Australianised meme pages such as Betoota Advocate and Brown Cardigan have celebrated our bogan tendencies in the name of satire, @PutBartOnTheDoor scrutinises the misdoings of a certain underground community with clear intention. They’re also being real sly about their identities. Could it be that is they spoke their femme truth openly, Melbourne would eat them up? Ouch.
The anon female admins running the page have sprinkled unmuffled social commentary on the live music domain in Melbourne on purpose. They’re outing the dickhead band boys who subscribe to cunty rockstar behaviour in the name of music. In particular, they’re attempting to emphasise the toxic masculinity and glorified misdoings of these rocker dudes.
Themes of gaslighting, cheating, narcissism and all-out lad culture permeate throughout the account’s content — motifs most wouldn’t expect to associate with the most leftist Australian countercultural music scene that is Melbourne punk rock.
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While punk rock in essence stands for liberation, truth, rebellion and separation from hierarchies and social constructs, @PutBartOnTheDoor portrays its male characters with patriarchal and misogynistic tendencies.
Their Tinder Tuesday thread and male exposés showcase fake (but like, not really) profiles of supposed standard Melbourne progressives with ironic character flaws such as asking for HD nudes for creative purposes.
The concurrent messaging in relation to band boys is that they depict feminine qualities in how they dress and present themselves as feminists with liberal political leanings, yet continue mistreating women. They commit dumb shit like, “[being] on tinder looking for another art hoe they can gaslight n’ ghost,” “cheating on tour,” and playing lineups with mainly male acts while fan-girling the likes of Stella Donnelley and Camp Cope.
Are you familiar with the kind? If you’re a lil confused, imagine this: you’re a Melb rocker chick who’s been aching to enter into the scene. You’ve played gigs but haven’t gotten the following you were hoping for. Eventually, you strike up a relationship with a sk8er band boi you met on Hinge — you liked his minimalist film pics, bleached mullet and calf tattoos.
So his band needs a support act for an upcoming gig at The Old Bar, a notorious emerging rocker venue. He hasn’t really listened to your music, but you’re a chick with a thigh tat and he knows that the gender gap in the industry is a fuss right now, so he’s keen to get you on the bill. You play the opener with literally no one there because they didn’t bother with promo.
You meet his mates and he refuses to call you his girlfriend. By the time the boys get on, everyone in the crowd is headbanging to the sound of shoeys being downed and the ruckus of, “WHO’S DOING KICKONS?!??!?!” They play, and all you hear is aggressive yelling to the blend of the same chord of notes you heard in the last three tracks.
Your boi does a stage dive and, by the time the gig ends, his nose is bleeding from the second-hand gear he snorted in the mosh. A week later, he tells you he’s started things back up with his ex and that he can’t see you anymore — hey, at least he messaged ya.
He’s the lad that won’t watch a gig unless his ‘mates’ are playing, won’t venture too far out of Hipsterville, and claims that gentrification is the reason why soy milk costs an extra $1.50 in Carlton. Oh, and he doesn’t acknowledge his privilege unless he’s crowdfunding for clean water in Southern India.
The saddest thing is that a whopping majority of the account’s followers are the personifications of the character in question. Those emulating the ‘Toxic Lad Bro Culture,’ that the admins constantly attack. In a recent Verve Magazine interview, the girls shed some light on their intention.
“[We] don’t think the scene is as open, safe and welcoming as people in it — or even interstate — like to believe… to the straight cis-men who feel ‘personally attacked;’ be better, re-evaluate yourself, be less shit.”
But what if these faceless memers were at the forefront of their IG baby, would we have even noticed?
Let’s take a look at the presence of live music in Melbourne right now. There are lots of angsty punk bands floating around, with a large majority being male representative with little-to-no actual musical talent. The discourse behind this trend is that of the bro culture which ripples throughout the city’s music scene. If you’re a dude in a band, you have one of the best social lives in the city.
But the problem is that punk rock dudes play with punk rock dudes, and their behaviour and reputations continue to be encouraged and held in a higher esteem to their counterparts or “band hoes” — that is deadset what women are dubbed if they hang out with bands: they’re secondary accessories who honour the presence of guitar-wielding legends who scream on stage with their tops off.
Without statistical measure to accurately weigh up the data, as an observer, it’s pretty clear that the penis-adorning-shredders outshine the rock gals and that the talent is more or less created offstage through partying antics and sharing bags of coke rather than onstage performance.
Not to say that everyone who plays music in this scene is a wanker — there are certainly some heartwarming communities out there filled with talent and mutual respect — it just sucks that they’re being outshone by the white noise of literal white scum.
@PutBartOnTheDoor is a perfect example of what happens when overshadowed, pissed-off women finally speak out about the injustices in a supposedly progressive counterculture — but what if they showed their faces from the start? Would we even care?
If you feel personally attacked by this article, suss the page, identify yours or your mates’ shit and start to reclaim what it means to be in a local Melbourne band right now. Your behaviour is your music. Thx.
Cover by the author