Trigger warning: this article discusses sexual assault and abuse
In July, the indie musician Rex Orange County (Alexander O’Connor) had to cancel his tour dates in Australia, New Zealand, and Europe after being charged with six counts of sexual assault. The incidents took place in London June 2021; twice in the West End and four times the following day in a taxi and at O’Connor’s Notting Hill home.
The 24-year-old singer songwriter from Surrey originally cited “personal circumstances” when he announced the rest of his tour for the 2022 album ‘Who Cares?’ would be cancelled. He pleaded not guilty to all six counts of assault when he appeared in Southwark Crown Court in October and has been released on bail until the upcoming trial, scheduled for the 3rd of January 2023.
For many fans this was a big shock as his music and stage presence play up to the ‘indie nice-guy’ persona. Many of his songs are mellow and explore topics like love and relationships which appeals to his largely female audience. One fan expressed their dismay at these types of musicians “who try to make being wholesome and nice their “brand”, only to be eventually found out as the opposite of that.”
In recent years, those in positions of power are being held responsible for their actions, with movements like #MeToo attempting to remove the stigma around being the victim of sexual assault and empowering women to stand up against abusers. But it’s still a grueling experience to call out influential figures for inappropriate behaviour and sexual misconduct.
The victim was incredibly courageous to step forward and seek justice for how she was treated. It’s important to remember this woman isn’t just challenging O’Connor himself, she’s going up against Rex Orange County the brand, the singer with 16 million Sportify listeners and music in the top UK charts. She’s challenging his record label, his PR team and his very expensive lawyers that are paid a lot of money to maintain his public image and influence.
Abuse of power like this in the music industry, and specifically in the indie genre is nothing new.
In 2016, Vice published a revealing article about the toxicity of the indie music industry: ‘despite the seeming prevalence of “male feminists” in the scene, women in the indie music scene say that sexual harassment is rampant.’
More recently, in August of this year Win Butler, the singer of Arcade Fire, was accused of ‘sexual misconduct’ after an investigation by Pitchfork found four individuals, all aged between 18-23 years old, claiming the singer behaved inappropriately towards them. And in November the indie rock band the Neighbourhood has kicked out their drummer, Brandon Fried, due to several accounts of sexual assault and ‘groping’. Fried apologised for “being such a drunk guy” citing issues with drugs and alcohol as the reason for his predatory behaviour.
All this information is readily available on the internet and reported on by mainstream news outlets. So why do the men in this industry still enjoy the luxury of fame, popularity, and privilege?
Recently the discussion around the possibility of separating the art from the artist has become a popular cultural debate. The notion was first formally introduced during the 20th century when academics used this as a tool to conduct initial analysis of poetry and literature. Now they understand the importance of context in order to fully understand the wider and deeper meaning the artist or writer is attempting to portray.
The conversation has developed online and used to discuss the moral implications of watching films made by problematic directors, reading books by authors that spread hate speech, or listening to musicians who assault people.
There is of course nuance to this type of debate, and no one answer will suit each situation. The aim of the ‘separating art from artist’ discussion is to highlight the role of the consumer; by streaming artists’ music and following them on social media you are financially supporting them and implicitly endorsing their harmful behaviour. Any form of art is often extremely personal, and the product reflects the artist’s creative, intimate expression. Viewed in this way how can the artist and their actions be removed from the work they produced?
In the case of O’Connor, he has not yet been tried or found guilty of the charges. So, listeners must decide if they want to believe the victim and refrain from streaming his music until the trial, or find some way of justifying consuming his work, knowing there’s a possibility that they are supporting a potential sexual assaulter.
The relatively new thinking behind believing the victim first in the case of sexual abuse goes against the rhetoric of the justice system, which functions on the idea of innocent until proven guilty. As a result, the courts consistently fail to convict rapists and sexual abusers. And usually in these cases the defendant is of high status and wealth so has more legal aid at their disposal, exaggerating the power imbalance further.
There’s lots to consider in the debate of separating the art from the artist, but it’s an important conversation to be had. It challenges people’s views on what’s moral and right, forces the consumer to consider their role in upholding problematic figures and what their expectations should be of those they idolize. O’Connor’s case and others like it push people to be critical of who’s work they choose to support.