Indie music didn’t come to me as an explicit definition – instead, it came to me as a saxophone solo. The rough, ear-piercing, and groovy vibe made me put Vulfpeck’s Thrill of the Arts on repeat 24/7. The opening track inspired me to pick up my own horn and play until my lips hurt. Like many other listeners, I didn’t know exactly what ‘indie’ meant, only that it sounded different – Charming, free, offbeat, and exclusive to me. 

For decades, ‘indie’ meant artists outside the Big Three – Warner, Sony, Universal – releasing on small labels or by themselves. However, a quick Google search of “indie music” today yields Arctic Monkeys, a band signed to Warner. The term “indie” no longer symbolizes independence; it’s become a Light Upon the Lake of ambiguity, describing a vibe rather than a genre. 

Guitarist Lee Byung-doo of the band Chaos witnessed this shift firsthand in Korea. “When I first picked up the guitar, ‘indie’ was short for independent. Real musicians wanted to play their own music, but record companies dictated what could be released,” he said. “So artists wrote, produced, and performed their own songs and called it indie.”

The 1970s mark the beginning of this genre. Amidst the debut of numerous influential rock bands, albums like “The Velvet Underground and Nico” by The Velvet Underground went against the polished soundscape of the mainstream and laid the groundwork for future generations of alternative rock. The VU released their music as an independent label at a time where the term “indie” did not yet exist. But renowned artist Andy Warhol brought them fame by designing the iconic banana album cover of “The Velvet Underground and Nico” and featuring them in his art. 

By the 1990s, bands like Sebadoh thrived with small labels, and “indie” crystallized around music inspired by punk and shoegaze. Later, when bands like Nirvana and Radiohead signed big deals yet remained “independent,” the definition began to stretch. 

In 2010, “indie” shed its literal definition. Artists like Weezer and The 1975 Blurred the lines, became the definition of “indie” even though they signed to the big 3. Streaming services such as Spotify and Youtube Music curated playlists that transformed “indie” to a recognizable aesthetic: reverb-drenched guitars, hushed vocals, and a Washed Out dreaminess. The word now conveys only a mood, rather than a business model. However, indie was never meant to be a moodboard. It was supposed to show rebellion.

“Indie” should not be easy to listen to. It should feel like you’re gasping for breath amidst a deep sea of distortion, or an awkward basement show where the mic keeps cutting out, or a saxophone solo that squeaks so hard it hurts your ears but your heart races. That imperfection is the point. Overpolished music may sell, but it can’t shock. And indie without shock isn’t indie at all – it’s lifestyle branding.

The owner of a local record shop – who chose to stay anonymous to preserve the authenticity of his record shop – argued that the term has now turned into a definitive label, rather than a genre itself. It became a catch-all expression used to sum up other, smaller genres into one grouping – causing the inevitable mix of non-indie songs in “indie” playlists.

The distortion of “indie” mirrors changing trends in the industry. Lee argues that streaming platforms democratize music, which increases competition and makes it harder for artists to survive. “Streaming services are causing artists to lose a lot of money and not gain as much revenue as before, and especially in Korea, this sort of power struggle is very unreasonable for artists.” Due to these trends, music has been stripped of its essence, as Lee says.

That’s the tragedy and the power of where indie has landed. On one hand, it’s been watered down to a marketing buzzword. On the other hand, it’s everywhere – so wild and untamed that no one can fully own it. If Spotify tries to lock indie into a playlist aesthetic, I want to believe that the real indie is happening elsewhere: in garages, bedrooms, underground clubs where the levels are too loud. That’s the indie I want to defend. Not because it’s pure, but because it’s human.

The End Is Near for indie’s original definition – but that may not be a loss. As streaming platforms make music much more accessible, the title of independence isn’t just in one label, it’s actually countless different sounds, from bedroom pop to Korean shoegaze. Indie today isn’t a box; it’s a spectrum.

And for listeners like me, that change doesn’t make the music any less meaningful. Although the term may be slippery, the feeling remains. Indie today still delivers what it did the first time I heard that Vulfpeck solo; flaws and all.