Has Tik-Tok become our Covid collaboration? A young Scottish man has taken over the world by resurrecting the old tradition of a singing sea shanty. You can find the latest Current Patter Podcast below or on all podcast platforms – @ThePatterPod
The Appeal of the Anachronistic, Neo-medievalism & Resurrected Sea Shanties
By Jamie Watt
The more society is unsettled by The Now, the more the future seems opaque and uncertain – then humanity will increasingly return to the visual language, narratives and values of the past.
We observed this at the turn of the Millennium. As the spectre of Y2K floated in our collective consciousness, the optimistic anticipation of the 21st Century quickly waned and turned to trepidation, as we began to ask ‘what unprocessable horrors lurk in the shadows of The New?’ A kind of Techno-Gothic became the pervading aesthetic as films like The Matrix channelled our insecurities and fears surrounding humankind’s relationship with emerging technologies.
The reality wasn’t as cataclysmic as the Matrix depicted but was a longshot from the utopian portrayals of 21st Century life as seen in Atomic era fiction like Lost in Space and the Jetsons. Rather, a digital malaise took hold. The Computer, once synonymous with technological wonderment became, for many, a symbol of office drudgery and uninspiring work environments. Despite being increasingly ‘connected’ via the rapidly expanding internet, early 21st Century workers felt isolated, alone in a matrix of office cubicles surrounded by the cold sterility of desktop devices.
Instead of looking to technology or the future for remedies, people turned to the past.
Medieval cosplay and role-playing events became increasingly popular as disenchanted office workers rejected modern technology (at least for the weekend) and found escapism in feudalism. They clad themselves in leather tunics, and attended historical reenactments or ‘Renaissance Pleasure Carnivals’, trading the plastic computer keyboard for a hand-crafted wooden tankard, overflowing with mead. ‘Neo-medievalism’, the preoccupation with the Middle-Ages, permeated pop-culture with films like Shrek and The Lord of the Rings ruling the box office in 2001. Likewise, turn-of-the-millennium computer games such as Age of Empires and Diablo adopted an anachronistic mise-en-scene. Those who felt undervalued, as replaceable cogs in the corporate machine, could play out their fantasies as legendary knights or revered wizards in sprawling Medieval worlds.
Jump forward twenty years, in the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic, a similar cultural phenomenon has occurred. Millennials and Gen Z have resurrected a 200-year-old sea shanty, returning to the folklore of the past to make sense of these perilous times.
A rendition of the early 19th century sailor’s song ‘The Wellerman’ by Airdrie postie, Nathan Evans went viral on Tik-Tok recently, racking up millions of views around the world and taking an older version of the song to the top of the global charts. The ballad tells the tale of life aboard a whaling vessel.
It’s ironic that during a 21st Century plague, when our only path to normality is via cutting-edge epidemiological breakthroughs, that so many should find comfort in the pre-industrial sea shanty. Why do we look for comfort and meaning in the anachronistic at time of crisis? Discussing Neo-medievalism, Umberto Eco argued it is because many of the structures that define the Western world; modern languages, cities and economies have their roots in the Middle-Ages. We look back to their origins to chart their evolution, to identify where the faults in our modern institutions lie, a kind re-assessing/ trouble-shooting exercise. The more disillusioned we are with the contemporary word the more we will seek solace in the past, security in the old.
During this pandemic, as we struggle with social isolation and economic uncertainty, we’re looking to epochs that conjure a sense of harmony and spiritual unity. A song about a whaling ship, an environment of order and discipline, where every shipmate had an essential role to fulfil and was valued, perhaps resonates with Tik-Tok’s demographic: A young audience of zero-hour contract holders at the mercy of precarious gig economy, who’ve been hit hardest by the economic fallout of COVID-19. John Archer, a folk singer from New Zealand, claims the success of the song is down to the similarities with the young whalers’ situation some 200 years ago and young people today, facing an uncertain future: The shared sense of being lost at sea, as the frenzied COVID-whale pulls us through the dark water. The appeal of the decisive sea captain mentioned in the song at a time when contemporary leaders appear inept, may also help to explain the songs popularity.
Tok-Tok enables its users to edit any video, letting those around the world to add instrumentation, sing along and harmonise with Evans’ original acapella video. The result is a piece of constantly evolving media that conveys a sense of community and solidarity in turbulent times.
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