Why I Appreciate Classic Culture More Than Ever

All Without Sounding ‘Pretentious’

Last week, I had a chance to visit a high-end jazz bar in the heart of Bangkok.

For 4 years, this place had been the go-to destination in my heart for experiencing the glamour of the Jazz Age.

Every Saturday, there would be a live performance of a jazz quartet with a singer—one that allowed me to most closely experience the intensity of musicianship and the swing era through songs like Cheek to Cheek or Fly Me to the Moon.

Yet, on my visit last week, something shocked me.

Since I recently adopted the philosophy of the flâneur—to be the observer of society—I’ve discovered the reality of modern culture.

Most people who visit this place are usually in their early 20s to late 30s—likely middle to upper class.

And what I saw was a group of locals, expats, and tourists—all gathered in this red velvet-curtained room, merely to ‘snap a photo, record a short video’ for the sake of uploading to Instagram.

To show “how good their taste is.”

And then after that, they just spent time chatting, talking, scrolling their phones—all of this while the sax man was roaring, the pianist was attuning to the ensemble, the bass was grooving, and the drummer… well, he was just in the zone.

While every single member of the quartet was performing the ritual of mid-century jazz, no one (of course, except me and a few others in the room) paid attention or appreciated the beauty of their communication.

And… what shocked me the most wasn’t even that—but the period after the jazz quartet performance was over (with only a little clapping by the end of it, which is also tragic).

Usually, after this I’d clear the bill and walk out—but this time, I decided to stay a little longer.

And what I witnessed late that night was this:

The very same stage where the quartet had been playing was now hosting an electronic instrumental band, with 2–3 singers and a modern, casual attitude. And within a few blinks—I saw the whole place, the Jazz Age glamour, turn into a modern pub.

The very same group of people who overlooked the quartet’s performance but captured a moment to show off on social media—were now engaging, standing, singing, dancing.

A stark contrast to the earlier moment.

After just 10–15 minutes of this shifted atmosphere—I decided to clear the bill and walk out. Still, while I thanked the waitress (who looked to be in her late 20s or early 30s) and asked about her day before I left, she just told me…

“The fun is just beginning, why leave so soon?” (and also hinted that during the jazz live session, it made her feel sleepy).

(God, who can fall asleep when hearing the saxophone notes of Take Five that resemble Paul Desmond?)

Overall, this night made me think to myself…

“Is there no place for classic culture anymore?”

“Why is modernity so shallow?”

This has led to this writing piece, because if you’re like me—someone who appreciates classic culture (or culture as a whole)—and would like to find a way to truly appreciate and perhaps preserve it…

I’ll give you my approach to this.