According to The Cobrasnake, We Haven’t Hit the Tip of the Indie-Sleaze Iceberg

Amidst an umpteenth round of heated indie-sleaze discourse, a check-in with everyone’s go-to hipster mascot to discuss the state of the sleaze, incoming 2010s nostalgia, and yes, Charli’s birthday.

By: Delia Cai
Photographed by: Mark Hunter/Thecobrasnake

Upon meeting at our late lunch downtown, the photographer Mark Hunter—better known as The Cobrasnake to any Tumblr-raised millennial—hands me a small gift. It’s a black bracelet made of interlocking plastic loops, and in the microsecond that it takes to stretch over my hand, my brain kicks into full-bore Y2K madeleine de Proust overdrive: Suddenly, vividly, I feel the spandex stretch of my old neon Hot Topic jeans, the weight of my cherry-red Canon dangling from my wrist, and the thrill of pecking out my Myspace login after school once more

Just as quickly, the memories dissolve, and I can’t even remember what this bracelet is called. But Hunter knows, obviously. “It’s a tattoo choker,” he says with the ageless glee that has come to define his calling as the soft-spoken, neck-bearded time traveler who’s here to take us all back to the late 2000s again.

For Hunter, whose flashy and kinetic party photos published to Thecobrasnake.com effectively served as the de facto yearbook of LA and New York’s sweaty, “lol sewwww random” hipster scene from 2004 into the 2010s, the resurgence of that era’s aesthetics—dubbed somewhat controversially “indie sleaze” and embraced with varying reluctance—have conscripted him back into service. These days, he’s not only the photographer you call to capture a new generation of post-COVID partying and Instagram-ready image-making, but he’s also become something of our go-to hipster elder statesman, especially since publishing his The Cobrasnake: Y2Ks Archive with Rizzoli in 2022.

For his part, Hunter has been more than happy to oblige—asking him if indie sleaze is “real” is a little like asking Santa if he believes in, well, himself—but in our conversation about the current round of indie-sleaze discourse (sparked by his viral photos of Charli XCX’s convincingly raucous-looking birthday), I found the ole Cobrasnake’s perspective on nostalgia’s power to be, perhaps counterintuitively, quite refreshing.

This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.

Charli XCX and Brooke Candy, Coachella 2017. Top Image: Charli XCX and Jeremy Scott, Coachella 2017.

The Weeknd and Florence Welch, Hollywood 2012.

Delia Cai

Mark Hunter

OK, so really: How was Charli’s birthday?

Everyone was actually having fun. Maybe Billie had her phone out or whatever, but it was really real. And it was cool to see celebrities of that level letting loose and filming themselves just like anyone else.

You’ve been a part of this indie-sleaze revival, or at least the discourse about the revival, for a few years now. What do you think? Is indie sleaze truly back?

I live and breathe it, and I don’t even think we’re anywhere near the tip of the iceberg. Speaking of Charli, The Dare produced her hit song “Guess,” right? He’s been an artist for a few years now already: He was popular within Dimes Square, he was popular within the fashion world. Now he’s hitting more of a mainstream appeal; his tour sold out. His song “Girls,” which is all about doing drugs and partying—it’s the apotheosis of indie sleaze in a way.

When they say indie sleaze, I look at it more as a blanket term to categorize the whole hipster world—the counterculture, the misfits. I’m seeing it not only in fashion, but even the soundtracks for movies coming out. Saltburn had a very 2006-era soundtrack, with Bloc Party and The Killers and all those epic songs from a different era. The music that’s coming out now—I’m working with all these new young artists who are inspired by them; they’re like, we want to be Justice, or we really liked Cut Copy. There’s a similar sound, but they’re obviously different. But it’s all still underground in a way.

One critique of the current downtown New York scene has to do with whether indie sleaze can really come back, has to do with the music. People are cynical because it’s not like we have an equivalent to The Strokes today.

I think that we don’t know yet. There’s certainly a renaissance of rock bands. Let’s see. I would put my money on The Dare, but it’s still early. I don’t know if we could have another Strokes because there was a lot that made them what they were. I hate that we don’t have the same dedication to physical media; you had to really make a choice in your discovery before streaming.

So you’re not skeptical about premature trend-casting? Or the TikTok hype cycles that seem to be just about younger generations romanticizing some imagined bygone era?

You could start at cosplay and end up authentic. That’s a fine path. You have to start somewhere. So if you start wanting to listen to Elliott Smith and then you learn about other artists that he’s like or that you like, and then you want to dress a little emo, that’s cool. You just have to own it.

Julia Cummings and The Dare, New York, 2022.

The Dare, Frequencies party, New York, 2022.

Is there anything that surprises you about the resurgence?

I am always surprised by what songs from the past have returned. Like, oh my God, they’re always playing this Steve Aoki and The Bloody Beetroots song. And I’m like, why that song? It was kind of popular, but it’s not that popular.

None of this bums you out, even a little? The feeling of like, OK, so is there nothing new anymore?

I guess I have a selfish bias. I joke that it feels more and more like 2007 every day because that’s like my core memories: I was a little bit younger, I was really in my stride. And now to have it back in such an interesting way, where I’m busier than I’ve ever been? I couldn’t have asked for anything better.
I also feel like a bit of a hipster philanthropist, because my whole goal is that I built a huge network over these years in every industry. I’m mentoring and trying to bring on the next gen, whether they want a magazine internship or if they want advice on what they’re doing or they have a clothing line they just started. I’ll shoot it for free.

That must keep your ear close to the ground.

Yes. I’m very tapped in, which some people want to criticize for some reason, but I’m very well-behaved.

Why do you think you’ve had such staying power? No one’s talking about Lastnightsparty.com anymore, for example.

Well, he was a little bit uh, X-rated. And my whole thing was to be R-rated, nothing over the top. So I think that’s one. Two, I actually enjoyed doing it. I think I’m good, even though there’s people that will be like, “anybody with a camera could take those photos.” But are they?

It’s fascinating that party photography has only become more relevant, despite the advent of the iPhone. Do you have a theory for why that might be?

I mean, there are limitations to what your phone can capture. One of the things that people are finally getting out of is the double flash that the iPhone has to use to focus and light you. You can’t move otherwise you’re blurry.

And then the other trope is everyone was once just going to the party to get a photo. Now they’re realizing, wait, Charli is making partying look cool; she’s popping out at these club nights and is actually sweating in the DJ booth or in the crowd with everybody dancing.

Tallulah Willis, Mark Hunter, Bella Hadid, Jesse Jo Stark, Malibu, 2016.

She’s not on her phone.

So I think we’re learning we don’t need to be married to the phone all the time.

For me, the concept of indie sleaze feels a little contradictory to our time because I don’t think you can really be “indie” in the same way on the internet now, when people regularly attain a huge following and brand sponsorships overnight. It’s just so funny to try to apply the trappings of 2000s culture applied to that reality.

I mean, I think merch is bigger than ever. Everyone has a brand—

And if everyone has a brand, everyone is technically “indie.” Thinking back, is there anyone from that earlier era whom you wish you’d been able to photograph?

I didn’t really get much Britney Spears. But also, the wild thing is that I’m just going to start cracking into the 2010 archives. It’s all the stars now. It’s like young Devon Carlson and Emily Ratajkowski and Alexa Demie, all those. Everyone thought my 2000s photos were lit. You should see what 2010 to 2015 looked like.

Should we go ahead and coin that era’s name right now?

In due time. But you know, people have such FOMO for these eras, but there will always be the next thing.

Right. When you’re young, it’s easy to feel like you already missed the party. It’s like moving to the city and thinking, oh, this isn’t Patti Smith’s New York—

Or Max Fish’s!

And you have this idea of what it’s “supposed” to be like, because that’s what you were taught to romanticize. I’m getting the sense from talking to you that maybe the key to having a good time in any “era” is to recognize that things are still happening. You have to keep your eyes peeled for what’s going on now. Because you don’t know if this person or this party in ten years will turn into something. . .

Yes, you have to find it. You have to put in effort. It’s hard. I try to tell everybody that in 2044, we’re going to look back on 2024 and be like, whoa, that was epic. It might not feel like it in the moment. And that’s what nostalgia is great at because it also warps over the years. You think differently about things you might have not remembered as well: “Oh, that was so great.” But then you’re like, wait, remember we didn’t have Uber, so we were always schlepping around, too. It was a simpler time, but it doesn’t mean it’s better or worse. It’s truly what you make it. I’ll have people being like, “there’s nothing fun anymore.” I’m like, you got to come hang out with me. There’s fun shit happening all the time.