Wait, are wired headphones sexy?
One essay, and ten hot takes.
Before we get to our Irregularly Scheduled Programming, here are a few updates from me, a Professional Journalist. It has been over a month since my investigation into Big Thumb. In that time, I took a long train ride to Brussels to see the new exhibition ‘Magical Realism: Imagining Natural Dis/order’ at WIELS and write a review of it for Berlin Art Link. These press trips also always remind me that I do actually have a career that extends beyond sitting in my bedroom at my desk, typing words on a screen. If you happen to be in Brussels, I recommend checking out the exhibition, Galerie La Patinoire Royale Bach, and BOZAR.
Beyond that quick reporting trip, I also fought a weekslong war with pollen and had very intense writer’s block — two struggles I’ve thankfully overcome. I also spent time talking to people about wired headphones, which is the focus of this very late edition of my newsletter. To be fully transparent, I wrote this a few weeks ago, but it’s been on the shelf while I waited for a syndication window to open with Kyle Chayka’s One Thing newsletter, which has a larger readership than I could ever dream of attaining. If you’ve wandered over from that side of Substack, hello. Please subscribe. I promise it’s worth it.
Over at One Thing, you’ll find my essay on why the comeback of wired headphones is representative of a wider cultural yearning for a simpler, less tech-obsessed era (with sharper editing). And here, you’ll find the extended version, featuring both the essay and a fun bonus: ten hot takes from friends and acquaintances on the great techocultural issue of our time: wired or wireless headphones?
Welcome to Public Service.
Headphones On: The Technoregression Musical
2003 marked a significant milestone in culture. It was the year Beyoncé launched her solo career with “Crazy in Love.” It was the year we invaded Iraq under the guise of “weapons of mass destruction,” which, you know, didn’t exist. And it was the year that Apple released its “Silhouettes” ad campaign, an instantly iconic series of posters and commercials featuring blacked-out bodies dancing to music as their white wired headphones swung free.
I bring up these three moments because lately, it feels like time has flattened. In the past month, Jay-Z performed “Crazy in Love” with Beyoncé during her Cowboy Carter tour stop in Paris, the United States bombed Iran under the guise of nuclear weapons that don’t yet exist, and yet another pop girlie by the name of Lorde was spotted wearing Apple’s white AirPods in a music video. Wired headphones have been clawing their way back to cultural relevance for years (I’ll get to that), but this moment feels different, thanks in part to the 2003 resurgence, and also thanks to TikToker-turned-singer Addison Rae.
A feeling of religious fervor washes over me whenever I listen to Rae’s breakout single “Headphones On” with my headphones on while walking through the streets. For those who’ve been in a cultural coma and haven’t yet been acquainted with this absolute banger, imagine the vocal quality and camp of “Stars Are Blind” by Paris Hilton but slow-boiled in a vat of nostalgia. This all sounds like an unnecessarily descriptive drag, but trust me when I say this song works; “Headphones On” makes me want to peel off my shirt, run through a sprinkler, smoke a cigarette, and brood (sexily, of course).
Future historians, should they not die in the Water Wars, may very well look back at “Headphones On” as one of this era’s most prescient cultural artifacts. The track is both perfectly unnatural and perfectly of the moment. It’s unnatural because 1) Rae is a pop star whose claim to fame is being a social media celebrity turned actress turned musician, and 2) every last ounce of the song and its accompanying album are utterly derivative. It’s a lab leak of an experiment in recreating the 2000s-era pop landscape. Musically, Addison Rae is the Paris Hilton of the attention-deficit generation, down to the mononymic debut album title: Paris by Paris Hilton walked so Addison by Addison Rae could strut.
It’s this obvious mirroring that, ironically, makes the track feel so current. It is also what ties it into the tangled wires of the headphone discourse. The “Headphones On” music video is indie sleaze as imagined by ChatGPT. There’s a Manic Panic pink wig, outfits pulled from an American Apparel moodboard, a smudge of heavy eyeliner, and, of course, wired headphones dangling from her ears. There’s only one lo-fi accessory suitable for the level of cultural retroflection we’re in, and sorry to Motorola, but it’s not the Razr (although it, too, has been having a moment).
The wired headphones resurgence is effective because they are the easiest way to signal resistance to the Big Tech agenda. Last year, a millennial New York City muscle gay named Ryan proclaimed that “me still using wired headphones is actually camp and a play on the socioeconomic structure of technological consumption.” He’s right. Mostly. Besides a subset of people who willingly strap VR headsets to their faces so they can watch porn and air-grab phantom titties, the general consensus seems to be that we’re technologically too far gone. We’re in a digital depressive downward spiral and yearning for simpler, sexier times. This extends all the way through to the headphones we use to listen to music.
Ever since I stopped resisting and fully ensconced myself in Apple’s walled ecosystem, I've accumulated their headphones. I regularly use the wired EarPods, AirPod Pro, and AirPod Max models, and have a dusty pair of years-old AirPods somewhere in a drawer. I have weathered the storm of “AirPod flexing” memes that made landfall online in the aftermath of Apple’s launch of its debut $159 wireless headphones. And I bought the bulky Max over-ear headphones after seeing one too many Instagram influencers wear them in airplane bathroom selfies, presumably on their way to some Mediterranean locale. They do not make me feel like I’m off to a Mediterranean locale. They just make me worry that I’m going to have a permanently indented skull if I wear them too long.
Addison Rae is right. We do need to put our (clunky, wired) headphones on, because when addictive algorithms dominate our music and social networks, plugging in a physical cable to listen to music feels like a small reclamation of something special that’s been lost in the brainrot era. I can’t deny that reading articles about Gen Z associating wireless headphones with looking like a finance bro can feel frivolous, and seeing wired headphones appear in Skims campaign ads featuring pop princess Sabrina Carpenter can seem like a cynical, trend-hopping cash grab (it is). But I’m hopeful about this technoregressive moment we’re in.
As the wave of trend pieces over the past four years proclaimed: wired headphones are “a styling essential” and “fashion” and “the next it accessory” worn by “cool kids” because “everything Millennial is cool again.” This may feel like throwing the first tangle of EarPods at Stonewall, but resistance has to start somewhere. As Rae so eloquently sings: “You can't fix what has already been broken. You just have to surrender to the moment.”
Wired or wireless? Ten cultural commentators weigh in.
Jordan, 30, digital product: I literally said this week that the moment we took the wires off headphones, society failed. We lost. Future generations will not experience giving your crush one bud to listen together to the cool new song you found, connected only by one small wire and a dream, trying not to make eye contact while you listen, sweating because you're close together, but not touching. That’s a crime.
Cemre, 29, project manager: I switch it up by season. In winter, wireless is just easier. One less thing to wrestle with while juggling a scarf and a bag constantly sliding off my coat. Then in summer, I use wired. I’m barely home; nobody has time to charge anything. And honestly, the cable look is kinda cool.
Ryan, 31, fashion wholesale: On one hand, the idea of a lower likelihood of losing an earbud sounds enticing, but then I get overwhelmed by the thought of being tangled in them when I go to move my bag from one shoulder to another, the stress of having to untangle them while rushing answering a phone call, etc. I prefer to stick to wireless earbuds. Then again, I hate having to juggle my phone, a coffee, and the earbud case while trying to put them away.
Bogdan, 21, filmmaker: I wear wireless headphones not out of some technical superiority, but because wires always end up tying themselves in my hands. Still, I like the aesthetic of wired over-ear headphones—there’s something cinematic about this soft armor against the world’s noise. They look like you’re about to ignore someone beautifully.
Nicky, 31, producer: I wouldn’t necessarily say that they’re sexy again. I’ve never thought there are any sexy connotations with having wires strung across your body, but they’re definitely practical. The reality is that most wireless headphones—in particular, the Apple AirPods—are terrible when sending voice notes or trying to chat with your friends. And the monotony of having to charge them gets tiresome, so honestly, I always have wired headphones in my bag as a backup.
“The moment we took the wires off headphones, society failed. We lost.”
Viktoriia, 30, model agent: I like my AirPods for their sound quality and noise cancellation. I enjoy listening to music and can’t leave my house without them. The pleasure of getting through the city while listening to my favorite tracks with no interrupting sounds from the outside world is incredible. The downside is that they need to be charged, and it’s easy to lose them, but, just like with everything nice in life, the experience is worth putting in some effort in maintenance (charging, looking for them around the house, etc.).
Dans, 26, graphic designer: Wired headphones are my go-to! Never look annoying, easy to pause for a sec, and the microphone is still the best in comparison to other headphones, in my opinion. Also, the ‘no need for charging’ aspect. They’re sexy in every aspect.
Freddy, 30, product specialist: I love my wireless AirPods. I feel so sleek and fast wearing them. I had wired phones for years and cannot understand the hype. They get knotted, they always break, and you have to have your phone with you when you listen. I’m team wireless AirPods forever.
Mehran, 29, art director: I’d like to think of myself as somebody who has quite a big finger on what I’d like to think is the pulse of culture. I really get the wired headphones. I get the aesthetic. I love the look. I mean, I'm 29 years old; I used those as the only thing back in the day. I love my AirPods, love them to death. I wear them all the time, but when they die, I need a backup, and my backup is going to be my wired headphones. They sometimes bother me. They get tangled everywhere, they drive me nuts, but I really like them, and I have a good time wearing them.
Bianca, 33, mother/astrologer: I used to be a super audiophile (and still sort of am), and I would always have wired headphones good enough for the studio or at least DJing as my go-to. This worked well because I always had Android phones. I had a brief phase with Bluetooth headphones (over the ear) because I got them free from my job, but they gave me headaches if I wore them too long. I'd say I'm a wired headphone truther, and as cringe and annoying as biohacking people can be, I do believe they're headphones are better for you because they emit less EMFs. I'm boring and mostly wear classic Apple EarPods, but I do own my late father's AirPods (probably 1st gen) and some Powerbeats Pro that I use when working out. I think AirPods Max are overdone, and real it girls have never owned them lol.